Colin Forbes - The Leader And The Damned

`I have seen the truck leaving? Christa said thoughtfully. 'He drives like a maniac – in a hurry to get off duty, I suppose. My guess is he has to be in Salzburg one hour after leaving here. As to my whereabouts, I'm off duty today. Traudl is taking down the minutes at the midday conference..'

'So where would you normally be?'

'Reading, resting, doing washing and ironing in my room. No one comes near me.' She looked up, her expression more relaxed. 'You could be missed quickly.'

'It's the luck of the draw. Gruber grilled me yesterday – and went away disgusted. I could be left alone today. Sunday. They bring me breakfast at eight, collect the tray half an hour later – and lunch isn't until one-thirty..'

'So.. Christa was becoming absorbed in the details. 'The truck takes one hour, which means we reach Salzburg at midday. I looked up trains to both Vienna and Munich – since you're so cagey about our destination. I suppose you'll trust me one day…' A wistful – not resentful – note crept into her voice. Again Lindsay began to worry about her feelings towards him.

'I have people to protect,' he said shortly.

'I do understand. We reach Salzburg about midday. It's going to be a tight schedule, whichever way we go. There's an express to Vienna at 12.15, one to Munich at 12.30. If it is Munich we might just make it before they realize you are gone. The express arrives at 1.30 pm, the very moment they bring your lunch. Vienna is well over three hours..'

'We'll have to take our chances,' he said quietly. 'There are a lot of imponderables. Whether the truck goes anywhere near the station is just one of them..'

'And whether the laundry truck calls Sunday is another,' she reminded him. 'We meet here later?' 'Yes, as near to 10.45 as we can make it.'

'I still think we ought to grab that car.' She stood up and went to the window. 'We know that is available.'

He came up behind her and squeezed her arms reassuringly. 'The laundry truck it is. I've made up my mind.'

'All right.' She turned, looked up at him and produced a Luger 9-mm. pistol from her jacket pocket. 'I took this from a place where it won't be missed for days. I have a spare magazine. I'll give them to you just before we leave…' She hesitated.

'Christa, what is it?'

'Ian, I want you to promise me something. If we're on the verge of being captured, shoot me, please. Then maybe you'd better use the next bullet on yourself..' She turned away, her voice trembling. 'If we have to go… I'd like us to go together..'

He felt like hell. He couldn't think what to do, what to say. Just helpless. He reached out to. touch her as she remained with her back to him and then dropped his hands to his sides. Her feeling for him was worse than he'd thought. And he couldn't reciprocate the emotion.

'Let's see first whether that truck does call Sundays,' he said roughly and left the room.

'Move the bloody car back into the garage,' Colonel Jaeger rasped.

It was ten o'clock in the morning, heavy snow was falling and the far side of the valley and the mountains beyond were blotted out by the white pall. Jaeger, stiff with standing in one position for so long, so fixed had been his concentration watching the hairpin bend, was frustrated and in a rage.

'We could wait a little longer…' Schmidt began.

It was the wrong remark. Jaeger turned on his subordinate and exploded. 'Are you mentally unstable? A few hours ago you were criticizing me for not parking the bloody Mercedes on the front doorstep! Now you propose we hang about here for ever! The men outside from the motor battalion are freezing to death. Do as I damned well tell you..'

Schmidt hurried outside the barracks to issue orders to the troops who sat with their legs astride the motorcycles, banging their gloves together to bring the circulation back into frozen hands. When he had despatched a team he returned nervously to where the SS colonel was striding up and down, pausing to warm his hands at an old-fashioned log- stove.

'They are collecting the car,' he said breathlessly.

'Bormann will be delighted with the great success of the whole idea,' Jaeger commented savagely.

'It was his idea?' Schmidt queried as he used a silk handkerchief to clean his glasses. The lenses had steamed up with condensation during his brief excursion outside. The temperature was dropping rapidly.

'Now it hasn't worked, it will become my idea – I know Bormann. He always phrases his orders obliquely. And this one was not by order of the Fuhrer'

He broke off as he heard the sound of the Mercedes being driven back towards the garage. It was a tribute to the car that the bloody motor had started up after standing outside for hours in these conditions.

'Those men were supposed to push the machine back,' he blazed.

'I'll reprimand the sergeant…'

'Oh, don't bother! What does it matter. The whole operation is a farce. I'm going to get something to eat.'

'Colonel,' Schmidt began tactfully, 'the three checkpoints are still on full alert. Shall I phone them orders to stand down?'

At the doorway to the barracks canteen Jaeger paused while he considered the suggestion. Snow flakes were beginning to adhere to the outside of the windows, masking the view. It was going to be a raw outlook.

'Good idea,' he said. 'Men kept on alert pointlessly lose their edge. Tell them to relax. And then come and join me for breakfast. I need someone to talk to – so I can contradict them!' He sighed. 'Sunday! I always hated Sunday – ever since I was a little boy…'

Lindsay heard the faint sound of a car engine being started up. He heard the sound because he had left the door of his room slightly ajar after the orderly collected his breakfast tray.

By leaving the door open he would be warned if a guard was posted outside. So far none had appeared. He had no way of knowing that, apart from withdrawing the normal guards to entice him into the trap, Jaeger had sent a large contingent away from the Berghof to reinforce the checkpoints and provide a reserve group of shock troops at a camp close to Salzburg.

Lindsay checked his watch yet again. Exactly 10 am. Another three-quarters of an hour before he joined Christa in the anteroom. He opened the door wider and peered out into a deserted corridor. Walking swiftly and silently he reached the window and looked down. The Mercedes had driven forward into view.

The vehicle was now halted with the engine warming up. Two SS men were scraping ice from the windscreen, pausing to melt a fresh area by pressing their gloves over the glass. The unseen driver turned on the wipers which operated jerkily and then settled down into a regular rhythm.

Lindsay stayed well back behind a curtain as he watched the two SS soldiers climb into the back. The car was driven in a sweeping semi-circle and headed out of sight in the direction -of the barracks. Lindsay continued to wait but there was no sign of further activity.

At 10.30 he checked the corridor, staircase and entrance hall. When he found they were deserted he slipped down with his case and went inside' the anteroom. Christa was pacing restlessly, trying to stifle a sensation of growing panic.

Lindsay watched her while he hid his case behind a huge chest of drawers standing clear of the wall. He would have been much better on his own he thought – but he couldn't leave her now. Advice he had been given by Colonel Browne in Ryder Street kept coming back.

'If you're on the run don't be tempted to link up with anyone – it multiplies the risk of, capture tenfold. Statistics show..'

Bugger statistics. He had to get Christa across the border into Switzerland. There he could leave her with a clear conscience – to sit out the rest of the war. She was German-speaking, so she could merge with the population.