The Iron Tiger - Jack Higgins [40]
'I don't think I've ever had a greater surprise in my life than I did ten minutes ago when this tribesman here emerged from the mist and turned out to be Sher Dil.'
'I arrived on foot about four hours ago,' Sher Dil said. 'When I told the villagers what was happening, they decided to move into the mountains while they still could. They wanted me to go with them, but I'd told Drummond and Major Hamid to meet here if they managed to get across the river.' He grinned. 'I was beginning to think you weren't going to make it.'
'We very nearly didn't,' Hamid said. 'They insisted on our staying for a while. You'll be interested to know, by the way, that friend Cheung is an Intelligence Colonel.'
'God bless my soul,' Father Kerrigan said. 'Are you sure about this?'
'We've the best of reasons for knowing, Father,' Drummond said. 'How's Kerim?'
'Taking it all surprisingly well. Of course, he's not had things too bad as yet. After crossing the river we were in an ox cart for nine or ten miles, but then we met the convoy. As soon as Corporal Nadin heard our story, he turned round at once. He didn't have much choice. He couldn't have gone any further.'
'Does he know about his father's death?'
'So it's certain? Brackenhurst seemed to think so, but I kept hoping he might have been mistaken.' Father Kerrigan sighed. 'No, I've told the boy nothing. Later, perhaps, when we're safe across the border.'
'If we can get there, Father. A debatable point at the moment.'
Ahmed splashed towards them through the rain, two tin mugs in each hand. 'Tea, Colonel?'
'So, you survived, you rogue?' Sher Dil said in mock anger. 'Am I never to be rid of you?'
'As Allah wills, Colonel.'
Ahmed grinned impudently. He wore brand new leather combat boots and a quilted khaki parka of the kind specially issued for winter warfare, the fur-lined hood pulled up over his head.
'Where did you get the clothes?' Drummond asked.
'One of the trucks was carrying general equipment for the army, sahib. There is still some left although we unloaded most of it back there on the road to make room for the women and children.'
'Women and children?'
'Refugees we found on the road. We could not leave them for the Chinese.'
'Tell Corporal Nadin to bring me a map,' Sher Dil said.
They squatted on the verandah of the nearest house to drink their tea and Nadin, a thin, sinewy Indian with a brown face and long black moustache, brought the map.
Sher Dil unfolded it. 'Three hundred miles to the Indian border and one road out - this one. The usual way to cross the river with transport was by the ferry at Quala, but according to Father Kerrigan, the villagers have burned it.'
'It might be possible to cross in the shallows at Kama,' Drummond said. 'Especially with half-tracks, and they've got those.'
'Do you think they'll try?' Father Kerrigan said.
Hamid nodded. 'I'm afraid so. They want the young Khan, Cheung made that quite plain. A puppet to sit on the throne of Balpur, a mouthpiece for the People's Republic. As Sher Dil says, there's only one road out. They're certain to follow.'
'Then we must keep moving. We have a good lead.'
'Only for a time.' Sher Dil ran his finger along the course of the river. 'Here, seventy miles south of Sadar is a village called Huma. If the Chinese get their hands on the boats there, they can put men across.'
'But not vehicles.'
'That is true, but see how the river swings to follow the valley. They would be no more than ten to fifteen miles from the road, no distance for active, well-trained troops.'
'So you think they may try to cut the road ahead of us?' Drummond said.
Hamid shrugged. 'I don't know who their commanding officer is, but that's what I'd do if I was in his place.'
'Then the sooner we're on the move, the better.'
Sher Dil looked up at the leaden sky. 'About two hours of daylight left. We can go a long way in that time.'
'You don't think we should push on through the night?'
'On this road?' Hamid laughed harshly. 'It would