The Iron Tiger - Jack Higgins [52]
There was a moment's silence when he finished and Hamid said softly, 'There was heavy firing up ahead, I think he may have paid the price already, Jack.'
'He couldn't,' Drummond said flatly. 'It's too heavy.'
'Perhaps, but since Sadar, I don't think he's really been responsible for his actions.'
'Where's the truck?'
'About fifty yards back in the woods. I decided to leave the road when we heard the firing up ahead. We obviously weren't going to get any further. I came back to make sure that the snow covered our tracks.'
'Judging by the soldiers, the next village is obviously in Chinese hands. What are we going to do?'
'I haven't the slightest idea. We'll discuss it in more comfortable surroundings. At least we should be safe here for the night.'
Drummond stumbled after him through the darkness and the truck loomed out of the night. 'Not exactly the Savoy,' Hamid said, 'but better than a snowdrift on a night like this. Careful, there are boxes all over the place. I dumped half the load.'
The canvas curtain at the back of the truck moved slightly, showing a chink of light and Father Kerrigan said softly, 'Major Hamid?'
'And guest,' Hamid said. 'The wanderer returns.'
Drummond followed him over the tailboard. He dropped the canvas curtain back into place and turned. As Hamid had said, half the vehicle's load had gone and the remaining boxes had been stacked so as to create a small enclosed alcove. An oil stove was set on a box in the centre throwing out life-giving warmth as well as a dim light.
Father Kerrigan murmured something, a hand on his shoulder, but Drummond had eyes only for Janet kneeling on the other side of the cooker next to the young Khan.
'Jack,' she said in a whisper. 'Jack?'
He moved close, dropped on one knee and took her hand. There were no words, none that would say the things he wanted to say and he touched it to his lips briefly.
'What happened?'
He told his story again in a few brief sentences. When he finished, there were tears in her eyes. 'Those women, those poor women and children. And Ahmed.'
'There was nothing I could do,' he said. 'Nothing.'
'I thought we'd never get round that mountain ourselves,' Hamid said.
In the silence that followed, Janet seemed to pull herself together and put the kettle on the stove. Father Kerrigan said slowly, 'Then the shooting we heard earlier? That must have been Brackenhurst?'
Hamid nodded. 'There were Chinese on horseback up on the road. That means they must be in the next village.'
'Are we safe here?'
'For tonight.'
'And in the morning?'
Hamid shrugged. 'I don't honestly know. Even if we could get the truck out of here again, which I doubt, there's nowhere to go. We'd never get through the village and we all know who's coming up behind.' He held out his hands to the stove. 'We've got shelter, food and warmth and that's a lot under the circumstances.'
'Beans,' Janet said. 'Beans and tea.'
'Sufficient unto the day, isn't that what the Bible says?'
She poured tea into two tin mugs and passed them to Hamid and Drummond. 'Those are all we've got. We'll have to share.'
Drummond took off his mittens and wrapped his frozen hands around the mug, conscious of the warmth and from the shadows opposite, Kerim watched him solemnly, swathed in blankets.
He smiled, showing even white teeth and Drummond smiled back at him. 'He's beginning to liven up.'
Father Kerrigan nodded. 'The natural resilience of the young, I suppose.'
Drummond sat there, staring into the fire, remembering many things. The city burning, the old Khan's eyes blazing into his as he exacted that final promise, Cheung's pale, handsome face. Strange how things turned out. They'd been very good friends, really. And what happened now?
He emptied the mug and passed it to Janet. 'Where's the map?'
Hamid produced it from a pocket of his parka. 'Any ideas?'
'Not at the moment. How far are we from the village?'
'Here.' Hamid pointed as Drummond spread the map on the floor. 'Perhaps five miles. It's called Chamdo. The border's about fifty