Алистер Маклин - Partisans

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In wartime, people are either friends or enemies. In wartime, friends are friends and enemies die…
PARTISANS
While Tito’s rebel forces resist occupation, the Germans infiltrate and plan their destruction.
PARTISANS
Three Yugoslavs set out from Rome to relay the German battle plan – but their loyalties lie elsewhere.
PARTISANS
A dangerous journey with dangerous companions
– where no one is who they seem
– where the three find intrigue and betrayal around every corner…

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‘A little more? There was a great deal more.’ Harrison sipped his wine and gazed at the burning logs, a man relaxed, at peace with himself. ‘In spite of the fact that the future looks somewhat uncertain, in some ways I owe our Captain Crni a favour. He’s done no more than to pre-empt my decision, my intention, to leave Mount Prenj and its miserable inhabitants at the first convenient opportunity. Had it not been for the unexpected happening of the past couple of hours, you’d have discovered that I’d already made an official request for an official recall. But, of course, as matters stood before the appearance of Captain Crni, I wouldn’t have made any such disclosures anyway.’

‘I could have misjudged you, Jamie.’

‘Indeed you could.’ He looked around the room to see if there was anyone else misjudging him, but there was no-one thinking along those lines: a magnet to the iron filings, he had the undivided attention of every person in the room.

‘So you didn’t – don’t – like us?’

‘I should have thought that I had made that abundantly clear. I may be no soldier, and the good Lord knows that I’m not, but I’m no clown either, all appearances to the contrary. I’m educated after a fashion: in practically any intellectual field that matters the average soldier is a virtual illiterate. I’m not educated in the way George is, I don’t float around in cloud-cuckoo-land or wander among the groves of academe.’ George looked profoundly hurt and reached for the wine bottle. ‘I have been educated in a more practical fashion. Wouldn’t you agree, Lorraine?’

‘I would.’ She smiled and said as if by rote: ‘B.Sc., M.Sc., A.M.I.E.E., A.M.I.Mech.E. Oh, he’s educated, all right. I used to be James’s secretary.’

‘Well, well, well,’ Petersen said. ‘The world grows even smaller.’ Giacomo covered his face with his hand.

‘Bachelor of Science, Master of Science we understand,’ George said. ‘As for the rest, it sounds as if he was coming down with a terminal illness.’

‘Associate Member of the Institute of Electrical Engineers,’ Lorraine said. ‘Associate Member of the Institute of Mechanical Engineers.’

‘It’s unimportant.’ Harrison was impatient. ‘Point is I’ve been trained to observe, evaluate and analyze. I’ve been out here less than two months but I can tell you it took only a fraction of that time and a minimum of observation, evaluation and analysis to realize that Britain was backing the wrong horse in the Yugoslav stakes.

‘I speak as a British officer. I don’t want to sound overly dramatic, but Britain is locked, literally, in mortal combat with Germany. How do we defeat the Germans – by fighting them and killing them. How should we judge our allies or potential allies, what yardstick should we use? One. Only one. Are they fighting and killing Germans? Is Mihajlović? Is he hell. He’s fighting with the Germans, alongside the Germans. Tito? Every German soldier caught in the sights of a Partisan rifle is a dead man. Yet those fools and dolts and idiots in London keep sending supplies to Mihajlović, a man who is in effect their sworn enemy. I am ashamed for my own people. The only possible reason for this – God knows it’s no excuse – is that Britain’s war, as far as the Balkans is concerned, is being run by politicians and soldiers, and politicians are almost as naïve and illiterate as soldiers.’

George said: ‘You speak harsh words about your own people, James.’

‘Shut up! No, sorry, George, I didn’t mean that, but in spite or maybe because of your vast education you’re just as naïve and illiterate as any of them. Harsh but true. How does this extraordinary situation come about? Mihajlović is a near Machiavellian genius in international diplomacy: Tito is too busy killing Germans to have any time for any such thing.

‘As far back as September 1941 Mihajlović and his Četniks, instead of fighting the Germans, were busy establishing contacts with your precious Royalist government in London. Yes, Peter Petersen, precious I said and precious I did not mean. They don’t give a damn about the unimaginable sufferings of the Yugoslav people, all they want to do is to regain royal power and if it’s over the bodies of one or two millions of their countrymen, so much the worse for their countrymen. And, of course, Mihajlović, when contacting King Peter and his so-called advisers could hardly help contacting the British government as well. What a bonus! And naturally, at the same time, he contacted the British forces in the Middle East. For all I know the dunderheaded brasshats in Cairo may still regard the Colonel as the great white hope for Yugoslavia.’ He gestured towards Sarina and Michael. ‘In fact, the dunderheads unquestionably still do. Look at this gullible young couple here, specially trained by the British to come to the aid and comfort of the gallant Četniks.’

‘We’re not gullible!’ Sarina’s voice was strained, her hands twisted together and she could have been close to either anger or tears. ‘We weren’t trained by the British, we were trained by the Americans. And we didn’t come to give aid and comfort to the Četniks.’

‘There are no American radio operator schools in Cairo. Only British. If you received American training it was because the British wanted it that way.’ Harrison’s tone was as cool and discouraging as his face. ‘I think you’re gullible, I think you tell lies and I believe you came to help the Četniks. I also think you’re a fine actress.’

‘Good for you, Jamie,’ Petersen said approvingly. ‘You got one thing right there. She is a fine actress. But she’s not gullible, she doesn’t tell lies – well, maybe one or two little white ones – and she didn’t come to help us.’

Both Harrison and Sarina stared at him in astonishment. Harrison said: ‘How on earth can you say that?’

‘Intuition.’

‘Intuition!’ Harrison, was, for Harrison, being heavily sardonic. ‘If your intuition is on a par with your judgment you can mothball the two of them together. And don’t try to side-track me. Hasn’t it struck you as ironic that when you and your precious Četniks’ – Harrison was very fond of the word ‘precious’ and used it, always in its most derogatory sense, with telling effect – ‘were receiving arms and payments from the Germans, Italians and Nedić’s quisling Serb régime, that you were simultaneously receiving arms and payments from the western allies – this, mark you, at a time when you were fighting along with the Germans, Italians and Ustaša in an attempt to destroy the Partisans, Britain’s only real allies in Yugoslavia?’

‘Have some more wine, Jamie.’

‘Thank you, George.’ Harrison shook his head. ‘I confess myself to being totally baffled and, when I say that, I mean baffled all round. By you Četniks and by my own people. Can it really be that there are none so blind as will not see? Are you so gagged and blinkered by your all-consuming and wholly misguided sense of patriotism, by your blind allegiance to a discredited royalty that your myopic eyes are so reduced to a ten-degree field of tunnel vision that you have no concept of the three hundred and fifty degree of peripheral vision that lies beyond? Are my people in London similarly affected? They have to be, they have to be, for what else could explain the inexplicable, the incomprehensible idiocy of keeping on sending supplies to Mihajlović when they have before them incontrovertible evidence that he is actively collaborating with the Germans.’

‘I’ll bet you couldn’t say that again,’ Petersen said admiringly. ‘All the big words, I mean. As you say, Jamie, it’s all probably reduced to a factor of vision, what lies in the eye of the beholder.’ He rose, crossed over to the fireplace and sat down beside Sarina. ‘This is not really a switch, we’re talking about the same thing. How did you enjoy your tête-à-tête with the Colonel this morning?’

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