Colin Forbes - The Heights of Zervos

'A bit,' Prentice lied cheerfully, 'but not enough yet. I think they used steel hawser cable to truss us up.' He checked his watch again. Nearly a quarter past twelve. Was the guard going to be late this time? The curtains were closed over the porthole so the cabin was in almost total darkness except for the light seeping in from the door which was not quite closed. He found that slightly ajar door tantalizing – for all the use that unlocked door was to Prentice at the moment it might have been locked and bolted on the outside. But it did give him warning of the guard's approach as he proceeded with his unvarying patrol. After he had entered the cabin to make his quick check on the prisoners he continued his slow tread along the companionway and Prentice, who had exceptional hearing, found previously that he was able to follow the tramp of the retreating boots and their progress up the distant staircase which ended with the thud of a door closing. So his sentry-go also took in the open deck aloft, God help him. But for Prentice this made sense – the German commander, knowing there was little risk of an emergency while they were on board, was conserving his manpower, letting his troops rest as best they could before morning. Prentice lifted his head, then called out quickly. 'Here he comes!'

The Alpenkorps guard reached the door and reacted with his normal caution, switching on the light and entering the cabin with his rifle levelled. He stood there for a moment, watching the two inert bodies, then peered round the cabin to make sure that it was empty. As he left he switched off the light and closed the door firmly. Lying on his bunk, Prentice used a little army language wordlessly – now he couldn't hear the basket marching away and, more to the point, he wouldn't be able to hear him coming back again. Gritting his teeth, he renewed the struggle to free himself, pushing down his left hand to hold the rope taut while he compressed his right hand and pulled upwards, wriggling a wrist which was now moist with sweat. The moisture might help, might eventually make it a little easier to slip his wrist upwards out of that biting rope. To give himself extra leverage he pressed his bound feet against the side of the bunk, breathing heavily as he strained desperately at the rope. Five minutes later he lay limp and exhausted by his exertions, taking in great breaths of muggy air as he summoned up his strength for a renewed onslaught. The cabin seemed to be tilting more steeply now and the woodwork was groaning as though the timbers might give under the enormous pressure of the sea. The effort to free himself had been so great that his head was beginning to ache badly and he felt that he had a steel band drawn round his temples. A light flashed briefly and he bit his lips. God, this was no time to black-out. A second later he lay still as a dead man, his heart pounding with excitement. That flash of light hadn't been his eyes playing him tricks. The light had flashed from the companionway as someone opened and closed the door soundlessly. Someone had come inside the cabin!

Fear. Uncertainty. Growing alarm. The emotions darted across his fatigued brain as he continued to lie quite still, straining his ears, trying to accustom his eyes to the darkness quickly. The trouble was that damned sentry lighting up the cabin had taken away his night sight for a few minutes and he wished he hadn't watched him through half-closed eyes. Had Ford also realized what had happened – that some unknown person had crept inside their cabin with uncanny silence? He had no idea. His ears had still provided no evidence that there was someone else present but instinctively Prentice knew that they were no longer alone. He found the stillness unnerving, the creaking of the ship ominous, and the thought that someone who moved like a ghost was approaching him terrifying. His mind was strained, his nerves strung up to fever pitch with their recent experiences, and now a nightmare idea flooded over him – someone had been sent in to kill them quietly. A knife in the chest, then a swift despatch overboard into the Aegean. Feverishly his imagination worked it out: the German commander might not want his unit to know about an episode like this, or perhaps there was an SS section aboard. Lying helpless in the darkness, bis nerves close to breaking-point, he foresaw the next step – the hand coming out of the darkness to feel over his chest, finding the right place, the upheld hand striking downwards with one savage thrust. Keep a grip on yourself, for Christ's sake, Prentice… His heart jumped, his throat went dry, he felt he was choking – now he could see something, a shadow which had interposed itself between the bunk and the phosphorescent hands of his watch on the table. The intruder was feet away, standing beside his bunk, looking down at him. He tried to call out, but croaked instead, a sound like a bullfrog. A hand touched his cheek and he jerked involuntarily.

'Keep quiet! Listen!'

Prentice was stunned, lay absolutely still with sheer shock. The voice had spoken in English with a distinct Scots burr. He swallowed quickly and kept his voice down to little more than a whisper.

'Who is it?'

The voice ignored the question, speaking in an urgent Morse-code fashion. 'Keep still! I have a knife… I'll cut the ropes on your hands… a British destroyer is close…' Prentice felt cold steel between his wrists, stiffening the rope as the knife began to saw the fibres apart.'… at the back of the ship is a raft… use the knife to cut it free… when the raft is on the sea and you are away from the ship…' The knife sawed steadily, one of the ropes snapped.'… you send up a distress light… they're on. the raft…' Another rope snapped as Prentice pulled his hands away from each other to increase the tension on the remaining rope. He spoke quickly.

'I ought to know who you are – I may be able to help you later.. .'

'Shut up!' The knife was sawing more slowly now and Prentice realized that the man who was freeing him was taking care the knife didn't jab into him as the last rope snapped. The voice went on speaking. 'The distress light will be seen… by the destroyer… but Burckhardt won't dare shoot at you since that will warn the destroyer something's wrong…' Prentice felt the last rope part, freeing his hands, then heard the measured tramp of an Alpenkorps guard approaching along the companionway, the boots clumping dully on the wood.

He froze, his feet still tied. It wasn't tune, not nearly time, for the guard to check on them. The intruder had entered the cabin soon after the guard had left – deliberately so. Prentice had already grasped that. So had the guard changed his routine? He was going to enter the cabin and catch him with his hands free – and catch this unknown helper in the act. The guard's tread was closer now, was slowing down prior to switching on the light and coming inside. Another thought struck Prentice and he felt a shiver run through his body -since he could hear the guard coming the door must be slightly open. Yes, it was! A thin line of light showed round the door frame. The intruder hadn't closed the door properly and the swaying of the ship had opened it wider. Lying quite still in the darkness, Prentice realized that they were finished. The guard had closed the door last time, so when he noticed that it was open, and even if he hadn't intended coming in this time… He wondered what the feelings of the unknown Scot were who was waiting with them in the unlit cabin without making a sound. He still had the knife – would he use it on one of his own men? Would he even get the chance? That partly opened door would alert the guard and he'd come inside prepared for anything. Lying back on the bunk, he turned himself sideways and hid his hands, hoping they would still look to be roped up. Another huge wave caught the vessel, thudding against the hull with such force that he felt it was coming through. A second later he heard a further thud outside in the companionway and a muttered oath in German. The wave had caught the guard off-balance. Bathed in sweat, his heart pounding solidly, he waited and listened. For a moment there was a drawn-out silence, followed by a metallic click. The guard cocking his weapon? Prentice had a fierce impulse to call out a warning, but he kept his mouth closed, then heard the tread of the guard's footsteps again just beyond the cabin door. He had turned his head sideways now, his eyes almost closed as he watched the entrance for the first shaft of light which would tell him the door was being opened. Then he heard more footsteps corning along the companionway, brisk footsteps which hurried. He could imagine the scene clearly -the guard noticing the door which should have been closed, his beckoning to a comrade who was hurrying along the passage to join him. Then the two of them would burst inside the cabin and it would be all over. The hurrying footsteps stopped outside the door and voices were raised in German. Prentice knew a little German, but not enough to speak it, and they were talking too rapidly for him to grasp what they were saying. Perhaps the new arrival was the sentry who normally checked their cabin? His mind was still grappling with possibilities when he heard feet hurrying away along the passage, followed by the deliberate tread of the sentry's footsteps as he also proceeded into the distance and up the staircase. A door thudded shut. Both men had gone.