Exocet - Jack Higgins [68]
'See how kind we're being,' Donner said. 'But the truth is, I don't want any tell-tale marks on your wrists when they find you.'
'A true gentleman,' Montera said, and then Stavrou stuffed a handkerchief into his mouth.
Donner said to Rabier. 'Right, you're on your own. Those cellars are as impregnable as the Bastille, but keep an eye on them anyway. We should be back in five to six hours.'
'Very well, monsieur, you can rely on me.'
'And if that bitch Wanda shows up, put her down in the cellar till I return.'
Stavrou was by now at the wheel. 'Ready when you are, sir.'
Donner climbed into the truck, and it moved away. Rabier turned and went up the steps into the house. It was very silent in the courtyard now, only the hissing of the rain, and Wanda huddled beside the window and waited.
15
Donner stood in the wheelhouse of the landing craft and looked through a porthole at the length of the ship. The hold was a steel shell. The cargo consisted of a large number of packing cases and the truck belonging to their own party, his men still inside. Beyond were the steel bow doors of the beaching exit.
The sea was choppy with a slight breeze and although mist and rain had reduced visibility, they had made good time from St Martin. The captain, a young naval lieutenant, came in from the bridge and gave the helmsman an order.
'Port five.'
'Port five of wheel on, sir.'
'Steady now.'
'Steady, steering two-o-three, sir.'
The lieutenant said to Donner, 'Not long now. Another twenty minutes.'
'Perhaps I'll have a chance to offer you a drink when we land?'
The young man shook his head. 'I'm only stopping long enough to put you and your party ashore, then I proceed to St Nazaire. I'm carrying electronic equipment for Guided Weapons H.Q.'
Donner nodded cheerfully. 'Another time perhaps.'
He went out on the bridge, wrapping the oilskin coat they had loaned him about his shoulders, and looked towards the great cliffs of Ile de Roc rising out of the sea.
* * *
The harbour was not large and the landing craft beached beside a stone jetty. One or two small sailing dinghies were pulled up on the sand above high water, but the only sizeable craft was a beautiful power boat, painted green.
When the bow doors opened, the truck drove out across a specially constructed concrete apron to the start of a tarmacadam road, Donner walking beside it. A Landrover was parked there and the sole occupant, a tall, greying, middle-aged man wearing a jeep coat with a heavy fur collar over his uniform, got out.
'Captain Leclerc?'
'That's right,' Donner said.
'Let's get out of this damned rain. Major Espinet - I'm in command here. I'll take you up to the site. Your truck can follow.'
Donner nodded to Stavrou and got in. As the Landrover moved away, he said to Espinet. 'A beautiful boat down there in the harbour. Yours, I believe.'
Espinet smiled. 'The pride of my life. Built by Akerboon. Steel hull, twin screws. She can do thirty-five knots.'
'Wonderful,' Donner commented.
'Helps pass the time in this Godforsaken spot,' Espinet told him. 'Not the most desirable of postings.'
'That's what comes of losing the Empire,' Donner said amiably.
The winding road that led up from the harbour was lined with old stone cottages, most of which appeared to be in ruins. 'Like most of these islands off the coast, the people left years ago,' remarked Espinet. 'It was just subsistence living here. Crofting and fishing. They seldom saw a ten franc note from one year's end to the other.'
They went over the hill above the harbour and there was the camp, a small, ugly compound of flat-roofed concrete huts built to withstand the fury of the storms that swept in from the Atlantic in the winter months. A concrete tower some forty feet in height lifted above them, a narrow balcony encircling its glass walls at the top, a steel emergency ladder running down one side.
Donner, who knew very well what it was, asked, 'What's that? The tower, I mean?'
'Built