Exocet - Jack Higgins [69]
There was a row of bunkers some distance beyond. 'Are those the missile pens?' Donner asked.
'That's right. They've got to be underground here. Nothing but Atlantic Ocean out there, which makes this an ideal test site, but the weather can be ferocious. Two winters ago it was so bad they evacuated for a month.'
'They tell me half the people here are civilians?'
'Yes. Eighteen military personnel at the moment. Only three officers, so we don't have much of a mess, I'm afraid.' Espinet turned the Landrover into the complex. 'You know, if you don't mind me saying so, there's something a little unusual about your accent.'
'My mother,' Donner said. 'That's what's so unusual. She was Australian.'
Espinet laughed. 'That certainly explains it.'
He braked to a halt outside one of the concrete huts where two men in identical camouflage uniforms and black berets waited. One was a sergeant, the other wore captain's bars. As he came down to meet them Espinet said, 'Pierre Jobert, my second in command.'
They got out and Espinet made the introductions. Jobert, a pleasant, rather world-weary young man with a thin moustache, smiled as he shook hands. 'Have you ever read Beau Geste, Captain Leclerc?'
'Naturally,' Donner told him.
Jobert waved a hand that took in the entire complex. 'Then you'll understand why we call this charming little hell-hole Fort Zinderneuf. Coffee waiting in your office, sir.'
'Excellent,' Espinet said. 'Assisted by a little Cognac, I trust?' He turned to Donner. 'Sergeant Deville will see to your men.'
'I'll be right with you,' Donner said. 'Must have a word with them myself first.'
The two officers went inside and Donner moved to where Stavrou waited beside the truck, which had parked some little distance away. 'Montera still safely under wraps?'
'In back with the boys.'
'Good. I'm going to have a drink with the CO. The moment I'm inside, take care of the radio tower, then everything else stage-by-stage, just the way we discussed it. Only eighteen military personnel here at the moment. The rest are civilians. Less than I thought.'
'Probably a few away on furlough,' Stavrou said.
Donner smiled. 'Lucky for them.' He turned and went up the steps to the door which Sergeant Deville held open for him.
* * *
Stavrou went round to the rear of the truck and the mercenary he had appointed as his second in command, a man named Jarrot, passed down a canvas holdall. At that moment, Sergeant Deville joined them.
'Sergeants' mess first stop, then I'll drop off the rest of you.'
Stavrou kneed him in the groin. As the sergeant started to go down, hands reached and hauled him into the back of the truck.
Stavrou said to Jarrot, 'Okay, Claude, let's get moving.'
Jarrot and Faure, the radio expert, jumped down, each carrying a canvas holdall, and the three of them crossed to the base of the radio tower. Stavrou opened the door and led the way up the narrow spiral staircase to the top. When he stepped out on to the narrow balcony, the wind tried to push him against the wall and he grabbed for the rail with his free hand. He could see the harbour clearly, but beyond the sea was shrouded with mist, as was the higher part of the island.
Jarrot and the other man pushed up behind him and they looked in through the armoured glass of the door to the communications rooms. There were three operators in there, and two technical sergeants sitting at a desk in the centre. They looked up in surprise as Stavrou opened the door and the three men filed in. Stavrou dumped his holdall on the desk between the sergeants, scattering their papers.
He grinned impudently. 'Good day to you, boys,' he said, and unzipped the holdall, taking out a Schmeisser machine pistol. 'This is what got the SS through the Second World War. Still does its job very well, so don't waste my time in arguing.'
One of the sergeants jumped up, reaching for the holstered pistol at his belt, and Jarrot,