Алистер Маклин - Red Alert

The man approaching them was in his late twenties with short blond hair and blue eyes. His goggles were pushed up on to his forehead.

‘Mike? Sabrina?’ he called out.

‘Yeah,’ Graham replied and shook the man’s outstretched hand.

‘Lieutenant Jürgen Stressner,’ he said, shaking Sabrina’s hand.

‘Where’s your partner?’ Graham asked.

‘He’s watching the chalet,’ Stressner replied, pointing behind him. ‘Our orders are to assist you in any way possible. Do you have a plan in mind?’

‘Not yet,’ Graham replied. ‘We’ll need to see the chalet first.’

‘Of course,’ Stressner said, pulling the goggles back over his eyes. ‘Follow me.’

Stressner led them down the slope and into a narrow gulley which emerged out on to another slope. Ten yards ahead of them was a dense forest of pine trees. He cut a swath through the trees and came to a sudden halt two hundred yards further on. He pointed to where his partner was crouched behind a rock twenty yards away, a pair of binoculars in his hand.

‘Sergeant Marcel Lacombe. He knows this part of the country better than any man I know.’

Lacombe was a middle-aged man of military bearing, with silver-grey hair and a thick grey moustache. He greeted Graham and Sabrina with a nod.

‘Still no sign of him?’ Stressner asked, taking the binoculars from Lacombe and giving them to Graham.

Lacombe shook his head.

Graham studied the lone chalet, fifty yards away from where they were crouched.

‘It’s totally exposed out there. He’ll see us the moment we show our faces.’

‘Can I make a suggestion?’ Stressner said.

‘Please do,’ Graham replied, handing the binoculars to Sabrina.

‘There are two doors. Front and back. I suggest we pair off and approach the doors separately. If he sees two of us coming towards the front of the chalet he’s sure to try and make a break for it through the back door.’

‘Assuming he doesn’t open the vial first,’ Graham muttered, his eyes flickering towards Sabrina.

‘Vial?’ Stressner said, frowning. ‘What is that?’

‘Haven’t you been briefed?’ Sabrina asked.

‘All we know is his name and what he looks like.’

‘We have to tell them about the vial,’ Sabrina said to Graham. ‘They can’t be expected to go in there blind.’

Graham nodded in agreement and explained briefly about the contents of the vial.

‘And you think he would open this vial if he saw us coming?’ Stressner asked anxiously.

‘It’s possible,’ Graham replied, tight-lipped. ‘But I think he’s more likely to try and make a break for it, especially if he only sees two of us approaching the chalet.’

Sabrina nodded.

‘I’d go along with that. So if two of us lie in wait for him at the back of the chalet, out of sight, and he does try to sneak out we’ll be able to grab him before he has a chance to open the vial.’

‘In theory,’ Graham said.

‘We have no choice,’ Stressner said.

‘You’ve got a point there,’ Graham replied.

‘It’s best if we stick with our original partners. I presume the two of you are armed?’

The question surprised Stressner. ‘This is Switzerland, not the backstreets of America. We only use firearms in exceptional circumstances.’

‘And this isn’t an exceptional circumstance? Ubrino will be armed to the teeth in there, you can be sure of that. Here, take my Beretta.’

Stressner put a restraining hand on Graham’s arm.

‘I won’t need it. Put yourself in Ubrino’s position. He doesn’t know we’re unarmed. He’s more likely to try and slip out of the back than engage in a firefight.’

‘Or use the vial to effect an escape,’ Sabrina said.

‘In which case the two of you will be lying in wait for him,’ Stressner said. ‘You need the guns, not us.’

Graham trained the binoculars on the chalet again. Curtains drawn, overnight snow packed against the foot of the front door and the absence of any ski tracks in front of the chalet gave it an eerie, deserted appearance. He focused the binoculars on the chimney. A steady stream of smoke filtered up into the blue sky. He wondered if Ubrino had left the chalet since he got there on Monday. Why bother?

‘How do we get round to the back of the chalet without being seen?’ Sabrina asked.

‘I’ll let Marcel explain. He’s the expert.’

‘My English not good,’ Lacombe said to her. ‘I explain better in French. You speak French?’

She nodded, then listened attentively as he told her the best route for them to take to come up behind the chalet unnoticed.

‘You have radios?’ Stressner asked.

Graham tapped one of the pockets in his overall. ‘Kuhlmann got them for us. He had them pre-set to your frequency.’

Stressner looked at his watch. ‘It should take you ten minutes at the most to get yourselves into position. Call me when you’re ready. Then we can move in.’

Graham nodded, then followed Sabrina back through the trees, into the gulley, and out to the slope where they had deplaned. They traversed the face of the slope, crossing it without losing any height, then skied down a couloir, a steep, narrow descent, and emerged on to a flat stretch of the mountain. She stopped and pointed to the sixty-foot ridge on their right. The chalet was directly behind it. They pulled the hoods over their heads to give them added concealment in the snow then made their way slowly up the ridge, crawling the last five feet to the top.

‘Look, ski tracks leading from the door,’ she whispered.

‘Yeah,’ he muttered, his eyes screwed up behind his sunglasses as he stared at the single upstairs window facing out on to the ridge. The curtains were drawn.

‘Call Stressner, tell him we’re in position.’

Graham inched his way backwards until he was out of sight of the chalet, then took the two-way radio from his pocket and called Stressner. He replaced the radio in his pocket when he had finished and gave Sabrina a thumbs-up sign.

‘They’re going in. I’ll move further down the ridge. If Ubrino does try to make a break for it I’ll be in a better position to cut him off. You stay here…’ He trailed off, hearing the sound of a helicopter in the distance.

‘What the hell’s Paluzzi playing at? I told him I’d radio if we needed assistance.’

‘He must have picked up your conversation with Stressner and thought it was meant for him. Get him on the radio, tell him to pull out.’

Graham took the radio from his pocket again.

‘Yankee to Leatherhead, come in. Over.’

There was a pause then the crackled reply: ‘Leatherhead to Yankee, I read you. Over.’

‘What the hell are you doing?’ Graham hissed angrily. ‘I haven’t given the order to move in. Return to base and await further instructions. I repeat, return to base. Over.’

Another pause.

‘Leatherhead to Yankee, message unclear. I am at base. Repeat, I am at base. Over.’

Graham was about to speak when the helicopter came into view. It was the white Gazelle Tommaso Francia had used on Corfu. Graham scrambled to the top of the ridge. He had to warn Stressner and Lacombe.

They were already clear of the trees. Stressner swung round to face the helicopter as it dived towards them. Tommaso Francia opened fire. Both men were hit by a hail of bullets and the helicopter immediately banked sharply, skimming over the chalet and passing within ten feet of the ridge where Graham and Sabrina lay motionless in the snow.

‘Leatherhead to Yankee, I heard gunfire. Are you all right? Do you need assistance? Over.’

Sabrina picked the radio out of the snow.

‘Sister to Leatherhead, we’ve come under fire from the Francias’ helicopter. Stressner and Lacombe have been hit. Need assistance. Repeat, need assistance. Over.’