The Valhalla Exchange - Jack Higgins [80]
'That's where I can't make my mind up.' They didn't look at each other, but continued to watch the group below. 'It's a funny old war.'
'Is it?'
'If you don't know, who does, General?'
Claire got into the field car. Ritter climbed in beside her and nodded to Hoffer, who started the engine. 'Beautiful,' Finebaum breathed. 'Just too beautiful. Get ready, General.'
The field car moved into the night, the engine note started to dwindle. And then, as Canning and Finebaum eased forward in the snow to take aim at the men below, there was a sudden whisper in the night like wings beating.
They both turned as a Finn in white winter uniform, the hood of his parka drawn up over his field cap, erupted from the trees and did a perfect stem turn, coming to a dead halt. Finebaum fired from the hip three times very fast, knocking him back among the bushes.
'Watch it, you two,' Hoover yelled. 'Three o'clock high.'
Canning swivelled in the right direction and found another Finn coming down the slope through the trees like a rocket. He started to fire the Thompson, snow dancing in fountains across the face of the slope, and the Finn swerved to one side and disappeared. There was uproar down below as Sorsa shouted commands, ordering his men forward in skirmish order. Someone started to fire from the trees above them, and then below on the road a big Finnish Rottenfuhrer jumped into one of the half-tracks, swung the heavy machine gun and loosed off a burst that cut branches from the trees above Canning's head.
'You wanted action, General, you got it,' Finebaum said, and called to Hoover, 'Hey, Harry, get ready to move out, old buddy. One, two, three - the old routine. Say if you understand.'
There was no reply. He emptied his rifle into the men and the road below and shoved in another clip. 'Okay, General, let's move it,' he said and crawled through the bushes towards Hoover.
The sergeant was lying on his back, eyes open wide as if surprised that this could happen to him after all this time. There was a large and very ragged hole in his throat where two machine-gun bullets had hit together.
Finebaum turned and started to crawl back to their original position. The Finns were half-way up the slope at the side of the road now. He picked up the first stick grenade and tossed it over. There was a deafening explosion and cries of anguish. He ducked as the Rottenfuhrer in the half-track swung the machine gun in his direction, kicking a wall of snow six feet into the air.
'Goodbye, old buddy!' Finebaum shouted and tossed the second grenade.
It seemed to drift through the night in a kind of slow motion. The Rottenfuhrer ducked, it dropped into the halftrack beside him. A second later it exploded, lifting him bodily into the air.
Finebaum yelled, 'Okay, General, let's get to hell out of here,' and he got to his feet and ran up the slope, head down.
Canning lost contact with him almost instantly, but kept on running, clutching the Thompson gun across his chest with both hands, aware of the spotlight over the castle gate in the distance.
There was a whisper of skis somewhere up above him on his right among the trees, and he swung the Thompson and fired. There were two rifle shots in reply and he kept on running, head down.
As he came out of the trees on the final ridge, there was a sudden swish of skis. He was aware of movement on his right, turned too late as the Finn ran straight into him. They went over the edge together, rolling over and over through deep snow, the man's skis tearing free.
Canning didn't relinquish his hold on the Thompson, not for a second, flailing out at the Finn wildly as the man tried to get up, but felt the side of the skull disintegrate under the impact of the steel butt.
He could hardly breathe now, staggering like a drunken man across the final section of open ground, aware of the deadly swish of skis closing behind, but as he fell down the bank of the moat, Finebaum was there, giving them one burst after another.
'Come on, you mothers! Is that the best you can do?'
Canning lurched