• Choose a category
• All
• Classic-Fiction

It was damp in the tunnel, and cold. They waited while Schneider got the water gate unlocked and then the sergeant-major and a couple of his men got the skiff into the water.

Hesser said, 'It's in a pretty rotten condition, Herr General. Careful your boot doesn't go through the bottom.'

Howard handed Canning his Thompson. 'Better take this, sir. You could need it.'

'Thanks,' Canning said. 'We'll hit those trees as fast as we can, then work our way through and see if we can make out what's happening round that first bend in the road. In and out again, nice and fast. I'd say we should be back here in thirty minutes.'

'We'll be looking for you,' Birr called softly.

Hoover and Finebaum were already in the skiff. Canning joined them sitting on the stern rail and Howard gave them a strong push. The skiff glided across the moat, its prow bit into the snow of the other bank and Finebaum was ashore in an instant. He knelt there, covering Hoover and Canning while they pulled the skiff up out of the water a little.

'Okay,' Canning whispered. 'Let's go.'

'Excuse me, General, but I figure we've got something to settle first.'

'What in the hell are you talking about, soldier?'

'You did say this was a reconnaissance mission, General?'

'Yes.'

'Well, that's good because that's what Harry and me and the captain have been kind of specializing in for the past eighteen months, only I always take point, sir. I mean, I lead the way on account of I seem to have a nose for it and we all live longer. Okay, General?'

'Okay,' Canning said. 'Just as long as we get moving.'

'Right. Just keep your mouth shut and follow my ass.

He was away in an instant, moving very fast, and Canning went after him, Hoover following. They reached the tree line and Finebaum paused to get his bearings. In spite of the darkness, there was a faint luminosity because of the snow.

Finebaum dropped to one knee, his face close to the ground, then he stood up. 'Ski tracks, so these mothers are still around.'

He set off again, going straight up the slope through the trees at a speed which had Canning struggling for breath. Once on top, the ground inclined to the east more gently, through pine trees whose branches were covered with snow.

Finebaum was some yards in advance by now, and suddenly signalled to halt and went forward. He waved them on.

He was crouched beside a snow-covered bush in a small hollow on the ridge above the road. The Finns were encamped below beside the three half-tracks and the field car. The scene was illuminated by a couple of storm lanterns, and in their light it was possible to see Sorsa, Ritter and Claire de Beauville standing by the field car. The Finns squatted around portable field stoves in small groups.

'Hey, this could be a real Turkey shoot,' Finebaum said. 'There must be thirty to thirty-five guys down there. We open up now, we could take half of them out, no trouble.' He caressed the barrel of his M1. 'On the other hand, that would probably mean the lady getting it and you wouldn't like that, would you, General?'

'No, I wouldn't like it at all,' Canning said.

Strange how different it seemed, now that they were apart. Standing down there in the lamplight, she might have been a stranger. No anger in him at all now.

'But when she moves out, General?' Finebaum said. 'That would be different.'

'Very different.' Canning eased the Thompson forward.

Finebaum leaned across to Hoover. 'You move ten yards that way on the other side of the bank, Harry. Give us a better field of fire. I'll look after the General.'

'And who'll look after you?' Hoover asked and wriggled away through the snow.

Finebaum took out a couple of German stick grenades and laid them ready in the snow. They were still talking down there by the field car.

Canning said, 'What are you going to do when you get home, Finebaum?'

'Hell, that's easy, General, I'm going to buy something big like maybe my own hotel up there in Manhattan some place. Fill it with high-class women.'

'And make a fortune out of them