The Iron Tiger - Jack Higgins [41]
Sher Dil got to his feet and turned to Corporal Nadin. 'What about petrol?'
'There is plenty, Colonel, enough for all the trucks.'
'Why not dump two and push on in the others?' Drummond said. 'Plenty of room for all of us if we unload.'
Sher Dil laughed and made a sweeping gesture that took in all four of the Bedfords. 'Look at them. Twenty years old if they're a day. They've been running since the Burma campaign and it shows.' He turned to Nadin. 'How often do they break down?'
The corporal shrugged. 'All the time, Colonel. First one thing and then another.'
'That settles it. We push on with all four. If one breaks down, we still have three left and so on. One of the damned things is bound to last out to the border. In any case, the ammunition they carry may prove useful.'
The three privates had been standing in a little group a yard or two away listening to this conversation and as Corporal Nadin turned to move away, one of them grabbed his sleeve and muttered something quickly.
Sher Dil frowned and stepped down into the mud. 'What's going on?'
Nadin turned, indecision on his face. 'Two of the men, sir, Piroo and Yussuf. They are local men. Their wives are in Sadar. They would rather stay. They do not wish to return to India.'
Only the rush of the rain and the rattle of water in the stream bed on the other side of the village disturbed the silence after he had finished speaking.
Father Kerrigan looked worried and Hamid was quite composed, ready for anything. When Drummond glanced quickly at Sher Dil, the colonel's face had turned pale with anger and the eyes blazed fire.
'For a soldier who disobeys an order in the face of the enemy, there can be only one punishment.' He unslung the old Lee Enfield rifle and rammed home a round, the bolt making an audible click. 'Is that understood?'
The two men in question looked scared to death. Sher Dil slung the rifle over his shoulder again. 'Right, Corporal Nadin. Prepare to move out.'
Nadin and the three privates hurried away and Father Kerrigan heaved a sigh of relief. 'You almost frightened me.'
'A bad business,' Hamid said. 'Once it starts, you can never tell where it's going to end.'
Sher Dil nodded. 'We've wasted enough time. Get what you need in the way of arms and so on and we'll move out.'
The refugees, a dozen women and five children, huddled together in the shadows at the back of the truck, clutching the pathetic bundles which contained their worldly possessions.
They sat there patiently, watching with no visible emotion as Drummond and Hamid looked through what was left of the general equipment the truck had been carrying. They found quilted parkas similar to the one Ahmed was wearing and Drummond discarded his flying boots, still saturated from their immersion in the river, and helped himself to a pair of heavy mountain warfare combat boots. He pulled on waterproof mittens and jumped to the ground.
Hamid was at the second truck with Sher Dil. The colonel had discovered a case of sub-machine guns and had broken it open.
'These are very good,' he said with a grin. 'A gift from Moscow. One of the happier results of adopting a policy of strict neutrality.'
He prised open a box of ammunition and another of grenades and turned as Corporal Nadin approached. 'Bring the others, I'm going to issue automatic weapons.'
Nadin called and a moment later, Ahmed and the third driver, a tall Bengali named Amal, hurried out of the mist.
'Yussuf and Piroo - where are they?'
The two men glanced at each other uncertainly and Nadin ran along the line of trucks. He was back in a moment. 'They have gone, Colonel.'
Sher Dil grabbed Ahmed by the front of his parka. 'Did you see them go, you rogue?'
Ahmed raised his hands, palms outwards.' On my father's grave, Colonel. They were here only five minutes ago. I was talking to them.'
'What about?'
'They were