The Valhalla Exchange - Jack Higgins [96]
He stumbled along the hall, opened his office door and stood back. She lay on the floor, covered by a blanket. Canning stood there, staring down, disbelief on his face. He dropped to one knee and pulled back the cover. Her face was unmarked and so pale as to be almost transparent, wiped clean of all pain, all deceit. A child asleep at last.
He covered her again very gently and when he turned to Meyer, his face was terrible to see. 'Do you know where he went?'
'I overheard them speak of it several times, Herr General. There is an abandoned airstrip at Arnheim about ten miles from here. I understand there is an aeroplane waiting.'
'How do I get there?'
'Follow the main road to the top of the hill east of the village. A quarter of a mile on there is a turning to the left which will take you all the way to Arnheim.'
The door banged. A moment later, the engine of the jeep roared into life. Meyer stood there in the quiet, listening to the sound dwindle into the distance.
At Arnheim it was snowing again as the Dakota taxied out of the hangar. Strasser, standing behind Berger in the cockpit, said, 'Any problems with the weather?'
'Nothing to worry about. Dirty enough to be entirely to our advantage, that's all.'
'Good. I'll get out now and see to the Storch. I don't want to leave that kind of evidence lying around. You turn into position for takeoff and I'll join you in a few moments.'
Berger grinned. 'Spain next stop, Reichsleiter.'
Strasser dropped out of the hatch, skirted the port wing and ran towards the entrance to the hangar as the Dakota moved away. He took a stick grenade from his pocket and tossed it through the entrance, ducking to one side. It exploded beneath the Storch, which started to burn fiercely.
He turned away, aware of the Dakota turning in a circle out there at the end of the runway, and then a jeep swung through the entrance from the road and braked to a halt about thirty yards away.
Canning was aware of the Dakota turning into the wind out there, thought for one dreadful moment that he was too late, and then the shock of the Storch's tank exploding turned his eyes to the hangar. He saw Strasser in front, crouching as he pulled a Walther from his pocket.
Canning grabbed for the M1, fired three or four shots, then it jammed. He threw it away from him and ducked as Strasser stood up, firing at him coolly, two rounds punching holes through the windshield.
Canning slammed the stick into gear, revving so furiously that his wheels spun in the snow and the jeep shot forward. Strasser continued to fire, dodging to one side only at the very last minute, and Canning slammed his boot on the brake, sending the jeep into a broadside skid.
He jumped for the German while the vehicle was still in motion and they went over in a tangle of arms and legs. For a moment, Canning had his hands on his throat and started to squeeze, and then Strasser swung the Walther with all his force, slamming it against the side of the general's head.
Canning rolled over in agony, almost losing consciousness, aware of Strasser scrambling to his feet, backing away, the Walther pointing. Canning got to his knees and Strasser took careful aim.
'Goodbye, General,' he said and pulled the trigger.
There was an empty click. He threw the Walther at Canning's head, turned and ran along the runway towards the Dakota.
Canning went after him, forcing himself into a shambling trot, but it was hopeless, of course. Things kept fading, going out of focus, then back again. The one thing he did see clearly, and it was all that mattered, was Strasser scrambling up through the hatch. The Dakota's engine note deepened, and then it was roaring along the runway.
Canning slumped down on to his knees and knelt there in the snow, watching it flee into the grey morning like a departing spirit.
16
It was almost dawn in La Huerta when Canning finished talking. Rain still tapped against the window of the bar, more gently now, but when I got up and looked out the square was quiet and deserted.
Canning threw another log