The Heights of Zervos Page 12

  Spray blinded the view. Unexpectedly he realized that the ferry was listing to starboard, was over the crest. Ahead lay the smoother water where the gulf was protected from the fury of the storm by the wall of the cape. He looked back through the window at the rear of the bridge in time to see the saw-tooth submerging under the surge of the sea, the spray bursting high above the summit as the whole rock was temporarily drowned under the immense fall of water. Then the rock began to reappear as water drained down its sides and Burckhardt's mind functioned again. The rock was behind them. They had moved inside the Gulf of Zervos.

  Three minutes later he was about to leave the bridge, his mind concentrated on the peril of the Italian sea-mines, when Hahnemann reported that the unit's wireless set had been sabotaged.

  'The Gestapo? Dietrich a member of the Gestapo? What the devil put that crazy idea into your head, Eberhay?'

  Burckhardt stared grimly across the table at his second-in-command. It was a suggestion he could have done without at this stage of the operation as the Hydra proceeded steadily up the gulf through the darkness. All its lights were ablaze to preserve the appearance of normality and from the bridge a powerful searchlight was beamed ahead as Schnell and Nopagos strained their eyes for the first sight of the dreaded mines. Inside the colonel's cabin Eberhay crossed his slim legs and smiled faintly. The two men were alone and it had seemed an ideal moment to voice his doubts. 'It is just a feeling I had,' he explained, 'when I was talking to him on deck some time ago.'

  'Just a feeling!' Burckhardt was more annoyed than ever. 'No evidence - just a feeling. And why should Berlin secretly put a Gestapo official on board this ship?' His voice became more biting. 'You have a theory on that, I'm sure.'

  'Yes, I have.' The little major, accustomed to the colonel's moods, was unruffled. 'Since there appears to be a traitor on board it could be someone the Gestapo has previously suspected. We know someone helped the Englanders to escape, and if the unit has been infiltrated this would account for Dietrich's presence - he is trying to locate the spy. Naturally, if he is Gestapo, he doesn't take us into his complete confidence. They never do. And the sabotage of the wireless set proves that someone is trying to hinder the expedition...'

  'I agree,' Dietrich spoke the words from the door he had opened silently and Burckhardt's manner became icier as the Abwehr man came inside and joined them at the table after carefully closing the door. The sentry outside the cabin should have stopped him, of course, and the colonel reminded himself to deal with that later. But it was an interesting example of how the Abwehr man's powerful personality was dominating almost everyone on board. A short while earlier Burckhardt had overheard an Alpenkorps soldier explaining to his cabin mates that the Abwehr officer had been sent personally by the Fuhrer to watch over the operation, a suggestion which had not endeared him to the huge German who now sat at one end of the table holding his cigar while he spoke.

  'Major Eberhay is, of course, correct. Someone aboard this Greek ferry is trying to prevent you from ever reaching your objective. And he has the freedom of action to sabotage your wireless set. That I personally find most inconvenient -I wished to send a message to Berlin via your GHQ in Bulgaria at the earliest possible moment. When would you have been able to break radio silence?'

  'Not while we are on board,' Burckhardt replied evasively. 'But you may still be able to send your message later.'

  Dietrich looked relieved, nodding as he lit his cigar, 'That is certain?'

  'I cannot be sure yet when that will be.' He paused, conscious of a feeling that he was being too close-mouthed with this Abwehr officer. For all he knew he could be Admiral Canaris' right-hand man. 'We have a second wireless set in perfect condition,' he said briskly. 'Military signals will, of course, have priority, but you will be able to communicate with Bulgaria at a certain time after we have gone ashore.'

  'The other set is permanently out of action?'

  'Possibly not. Someone smashed the tuning coil but the wireless op may be able to repair it in time.'

  'It had been left unguarded?'

  'No, not originally. But the man who was guarding it became sick and went to the lavatory. He was there for some time and because of his condition he didn't check the set immediately when he returned.'

  'How can you smash up a tuning coil?'

  Eberhay, who had seen the damaged set, explained this. 'Anything heavy would do the job - a pistol butt, or a rifle's - anything. It could be done in less than a minute.'

  'Why did Schnell keep to his cabin during the early part of the voyage?' asked Dietrich. The sudden switch in topic surprised both German officers and again it was Eberhay who replied. 'He made the same trip aboard the Hydra a fortnight ago to study the vessel and its route. Although he was disguised on that earlier trip we wanted to eliminate any risk that one of the crew might recognize him this time.'

  'And he carried the weapons for use in taking over the vessel inside that cabin trunk which caused so much comment?'

  'Yes!' It was Burckhardt who answered now, disliking the final qualification in Dietrich's question. 'Both wireless sets, incidentally, are now under heavy guard. And the seizure of this vessel went exactly according to plan.'

  'I agree that that part of the operation was well organized,' Dietrich said blandly with the underlying implication that the later stages had been little better than a dog's breakfast. Withdrawing suddenly from the conversation, he sat back in his chair and regarded both men through his cigar smoke. The German officers had taken off their outer civilian coats and wore field-grey Alpenkorps uniform: a tunic buttoned up to the neck, trousers ankle-wrapped with puttees, and heavily nailed boots. The footgear, Dietrich thought, was an improvement on the normal Wehrmacht jackboot he so disliked. Round his waist each man wore a wide leather belt with a hip holster slung on the left side and the Luger pistol set butt forward. He remained motionless while someone hammered urgently on the outside of the door and a moment later the knocking was repeated. Burckhardt called out for them to come in and Lieutenant Hahnemann appeared.

  'What is it?' Burckhardt asked quietly.

  'One of the ten-kilogram demolition charges is missing -and a time fuse.'

  Dietrich came to life suddenly, was standing up as he fired the question, his great body overshadowing Hahnemann. 'That sounds like a large bomb?'

  In his agitation Hahnemann replied immediately before the colonel could say a word, addressing Dietrich directly. 'If it is placed in the right position it could destroy the entire ship.'

  'Something's upset their apple cart, all right.' Ford spoke quietly as he stood alongside Prentice by the porthole. Their cabin was being methodically searched by Alpenkorps soldiers who prodded the bedding gingerly with short-bladed bayonets, opened cupboard doors as though expecting something to fall out, and peered cautiously under chair seats without moving them.

  'They're nervy, too.' Prentice watched the searching process curiously and he thought he sensed a desperate urgency in their efforts, like men working against a clock. Near the door Sergeant Volber stood directing operations, although his main task, under orders from Eberhay, was to protect the prisoners. During the search more than one man glanced murderously at Prentice who was responsible for the death of one of their comrades, and Volber was present to exercise strict discipline. A moment later the sergeant spoke in German, and when Prentice failed to understand, he waved his Luger to indicate they must move to one side. A soldier who pointedly did not look at them opened the porthole, peered outside, then rubbed a hand round the outer rim as though seeking something which might be suspended there. Satisfied with his search, he closed the porthole and Volber motioned them to take up their former position.

  'What the hell's going on?' Ford whispered.

  'Don't know - but they're as jumpy as hens with a fox in the yard.' Prentice was glad of Volber's presence: all the Germans carried carbines,* as the technically minded Ford insisted on calling them, and it had been known for a weapon to go off accide
ntally when aimed at a lethal spot. From the look on the faces of some of these hard-bitten youngsters a carbine could have discharged quite easily in his direction if Volber had omitted to attend the ceremony. Ford continued gazing out of the porthole where he could see on the mainland side of the gulf a chain of pinpoint lights crawling up the coast road to the north. He pressed his hand lightly on the lieutenant's arm.

  'Look - must be our chaps across there.'

  'I know, I've seen 'em.' Prentice hadn't relaxed Ms own gaze from tbe interior of the cabin. He could feel the deep animosity radiating from the dozen men who went on turning the cabin inside out. One soldier walking past him chanced to let go of his carbine and Prentice had to move quickly. The metal-sheathed butt of the weapon thudded heavily on the cabin floor where a moment before his right foot had stood. If that butt had contacted, it could have crippled him. Volber called out sharply in German and was still barking vehemently when the soldier left the cabin.

  'Sounds as though he's going on a charge. With any luck,' Ford added. 'You know, sir, I don't think they really like us.'

  'Just be ready to do a quick tap-dance if the occasion arises,' Prentice told him and continued to stare at any man who caught his eye. Yes, Ford had been right: it was a damned queer situation. On board the Hydra there must be at least a company of well-trained German troops and some of them expected to operate at high altitudes - he had seen several pairs of skis inside one cabin when they had been taken along earlier for interrogation by that slip of a German officer who spoke English. And behind them, a few miles across the gulf through that porthole, they could see the hooded lights of traffic moving through the night along that vital mainland road

  * Ford was referring to the Gewehr 98 K bolt-action carbine.

  to the north. Prentice had no doubt that those were the lights of Allied convoys driving up to the Alkiamon Line, completely ignorant of the fact that the ship whose lights they could see across the water was carrying a German spearhead aimed at Zervos. For by now Prentice had little doubt of the Alpenkorps objective - the Germans on board were on their way to seize that vital monastery observation post overlooking the road Ford was watching through the porthole.

  'A whole load of them on the way,' Ford went on, 'I can see lights right up the coast."

  'What the blazes can this lot be looking for?' Prentice wondered out loud. 'And it bothers them. They're sweating.'

  'They can melt away for all I care. What I can't make out is why they're still wearing their Mae Wests. It's as calm as the Serpentine outside now.' Ford's description of the gulf had an element of exaggeration because the Hydra was still steaming through a moderate swell, but contrasted with the seas off Cape Zervos it could indeed have been the Serpentine. The Aegean, one of the most unpredictable seas in the world, had subsided again.

  'I told you, they were nervy,' Prentice replied. Inwardly, he assumed the wearing of Mae Wests was just another example of Teutonic discipline, but it was the object of the search which was nagging at his tired brain. Come to think of it, these boys didn't look as though they'd just got up in the morning. Which was a thought that gave him a certain amount of satisfaction: if they went on prowling round the ship like this they'd be exhausted before they ever got ashore. The soldiers were trooping out of the cabin when he went up to Volber. 'Speak with German who speaks Englische ...' he began. It took him a pantomime of gestures to convey that he wished to talk to the little officer who had interviewed them earlier, and when Volber returned he came back with Lieutenant Hahnemann instead.

  'What is it?' Hahnemann rapped out. There was tension here, too - tension and irritability in the manner and expression with which he regarded the two prisoners.

  'What are you looking for? We might be able to help,' Prentice told him blithely.

  The reaction was unexpectedly violent. Hahnemann took a step forward and his right hand rested close to his hip holster. It had been a mistake, Prentice realized at once. The Jerries were more at their nerve-ends than he had realized. He spoke quickly and tersely, letting a little indignation creep into his tone. 'I meant what I said. Why wouldn't I? If I could tell you where it was - whatever you are looking for -it would have saved us having the bedding bayoneted to bits.'

  'You will stay here and not send for me again.' He turned away and then looked back. 'Why are you not wearing the life-jackets?'

  'Because there isn't a storm any more.'

  'You put them on now and they stay on. That is an order. For your safety,' he ended abruptly. They were left alone with the guard while they tied on their Mae Wests again. Prentice was relieved to see that it was the same guard, a thirty-year-old who sat some distance from them with his machine-pistol always aimed in their general direction. A sturdy-faced character, he had shown no exceptional signs of hostility although he was careful never to let them come within ten feet of where he sat.

  'I'd still like to know what they were after,' said Ford as he sat down on a pile of massacred bedding. He looked up at Prentice. 'How much longer?'

  'About an hour, if they're keeping to the ferry's schedule.' Prentice's watch registered 4.30 AM and the Hydra had been due to dock at Katyra at 5.30 AM, a little before dawn. To keep awake he went over to the porthole again for another look at those tantalizing hooded lights of the convoy moving along the coast road. Another hour. Nothing much could happen in that time.

  The ten-kilogram composite demolition charge stood on the table. It was enclosed inside a black-painted zinc container about the size and shape of a deep attaché case and there was a web carrying-handle at the top. Inset into the top face were two standard igniter sockets. 'Like that?' queried Dietrich innocently. He gave the impression that this was the first time in his life he had seen a ten-kilogram demolition charge.

  'Its twin is hidden somewhere aboard this ship - with the difference that the clockwork time fuse has undoubtedly been attached and set in motion. Show him the fuse, Hahnemann.'

  While Burckhardt waited, the engines of the ferry ticked over steadily, unpleasantly suggestive of the ticking of a time bomb. They were alone in the colonel's cabin with the exception of the temporary presence of Hahnemann who had brought in the demolition charge at the Abwehr man's request. As Dietrich had so unfortunately put it, he wanted to see what was going to blow him to kingdom come.

  'The fuse,' said Hahnemann.

  It was roughly shaped like an outsized egg-cup. Measuring a little over two inches across the top in diameter and six inches in overall depth, the casing was chocolate-brown bake-lite, and when Dietrich picked up the device Hahnemann showed him how it worked. The top was a hinged glass lid which had to be lifted to set the clock. Still holding the time fuse, he looked up at the lieutenant.

  'And one of these is definitely missing with the charge?'

  'Yes. They were in a rucksack at the bottom of the companionway stairs.'

  'Not guarded?' Dietrich was looking down at the mechanism.

  Hahnemann glanced at the colonel, who nodded. 'There was a mix-up of rucksacks. I'm sure it would never have happened if half the men hadn't been sea-sick. Corporal Schultz thought he had the rucksack with the charges inside with him in a cabin. It was only discovered later that he had someone else's while his own rucksack had been left outside.'

  Dietrich ignored the explanation. 'Corporal Schultz is waiting in the passage? Good, I'd like to see him.'

  Hahnemann went to the door and let inside a slim man in his late twenties who was clearly not at ease, and his embarrassment increased when he slipped en the polished floor. He glanced at the colonel as he saluted and Burckhardt merely told him to answer questions. He had already had a word with the negligent NCO.

  'These fuses are totally reliable?' enquired Dietrich. The pink-faced corporal glanced at Hahnemann who told him briskly to answer the question. Schultz was uncertain how much to say and the colonel barked at him to get on with it.

  'No, sir, not always,' Schultz began. And having begun he gained confidence and spoke
rapidly. 'They have a habit when set of stopping for no reason at all. Then they can start up again of their own accord - again for no particular reason. We do know that they can be affected by jolting or vibrations. They're weird - I heard of one case where a fuse was set to detonate the charge in two days. It was put under a bridge during training and then the man who had put it there died in a motor crash. Everyone forgot about it.' He paused, his eyes on Dietrich who was staring at him fixedly. 'Two years later the bridge blew up. Yes, sir - two years later.'