Jack Higgins: Midnight Never Comes

Within a few moments it was all over. As two of Donner's men fell, the others threw down their weapons and raised their hands. As Chavasse watched, von Bayern and the British officers came together. There was a brief conversation and then three of the officers and a mixed group of German and British soldiers broke away and hurried down towards the harbour.

Von Bayern looked up and waved. Chavasse waved back and the German and the British officer he had been talking to walked across to the tower with a couple of men.

Chavasse turned to Steiner. 'Got a cigarette?'

Steiner produced a packet from his tunic pocket. Chavasse took one and accepted a light from the old gun-metal petrol lighter the German held out.

The smoke bit deep into his lungs when he inhaled, harsh and satisfying and suddenly he was tired. A moment later, von Bayern arrived with the British officer.

'This is Captain Harrison, Paul. Unfortunately Major Endicott, the commanding officer, was killed before we arrived.'

Harrison shook hands. 'I don't think I've ever been quite so pleased to see anyone in my life before,' he said. 'If you'll excuse me for a moment, I just want to get in touch with Mallaig.'

He went into the radio room, his two men with him and von Bayern turned to Chavasse. 'You are all right? That was a bad moment when I was fired on from the tower. Thank you.'

'One snag,' Chavasse said. 'Donner cleared out a couple of hours ago in the C.O.'s power boat, apparently all according to plan. Remember I said I couldn't understand how he was to get back.'

Von Bayern shrugged. 'I can't see that it will do him any good. With no plane to fly out in, he can't get very far.'

'That's true.'

Harrison came back to join them. 'I've been in touch with Mallaig and they've put out a general alert, admittedly rather belatedly.'

Chavasse frowned and glanced at von Bayern. 'I should have thought they would have heard from Asta and Benson by now.'

'I'm afraid I don't understand,' Harrison said.

Chavasse explained quickly and Harrison returned to the radio room. He was back within two or three minutes, shaking his head. 'No, there's definitely been no sign of Miss Svensson or Driver Benson.'

'We understand Donner left in Major Endicott's power boat some time ago,' von Bayern said. 'Is it a fast craft?'

Harrison nodded. 'Twin screws-Penta petrol engine. Good for twenty-five or thirty knots in the right weather.'

'Is there any other boat in the harbour?'

'Only an old lobster boat. Not a hope of catching him if that's what you're thinking of. I don't think it could make better than five knots.'

Chavasse turned away, his face grim and von Bayern said, 'No boat on earth could catch him now, Paul.'

'And what if something went wrong?' Chavasse demanded. 'What if Asta's still at Glenmore. Donner must almost be there by now.'

'There's always the plane.'

Chavasse turned from the rail eagerly. 'Do you think it's possible?'

'I don't know,' von Bayern shrugged. 'It depends how far the tide has turned. We certainly couldn't manage the party we brought in. You and me and perhaps Steiner-no more.'

'I could let you have a Land Rover,' Harrison said. 'It would have you on top of the cliffs in five minutes from here. They're marvellous vehicles in rough country.'

'Good, then there is no time to waste, Paul,' von Bayern said and he nodded to Steiner who followed him down the stairs.

Harrison took a revolver from his pocket and handed it to Chavasse. 'I picked this up on the way. You'd better have it.'

Chavasse weighed it in his hand and nodded to Murdoch who had been standing at the rail, a silent observer of everything which had taken place.

'One good turn deserves another. There's still the question of the right signal to bring a certain trawler in here to pick up Firebird. I've a feeling our friend here could be very co-operative in that direction if you approached him in the right way.'

Harrison grinned, turning towards Murdoch and Chavasse went down the spiral staircase quickly after the others.

The sergeant who drove them to the top of the cliffs was a keen amateur naturalist and spent most of his spare time on the cliffs and the seashore.

He shook his head briefly in answer to von Bayern's query about the tide. 'It'll be well in now, sir,' he said. 'They go out slow and swing back sudden, if you follow me. Damned treacherous. I've nearly been caught in the rocks down there a time or two, I can tell you.'

The mist had disappeared when they went over the crest of the final hill and braked to a halt and when they moved to the edge of the cliffs, the Beaver was clearly visible close to the rocks below, strangely alien in such a place.

'See what I mean, sir?'

The sergeant pointed and Chavasse looked to where the sea rolled in across the sand in great, hungry breakers. Already at least half of the area on which they had landed was eaten away and the rest was broken up by great trailing fingers of salt water.

'What do you think?' Chavasse said, turning to von Bayern.

The German shrugged. 'Ask me again when I'm sitting at the controls. Come on. We're wasting time.'

They dropped into the nearest gully and went sliding down in a shower of broken stones and earth and the Artillery sergeant went with them.

Chavasse plunged down the final slope of scree and emerged on to the open beach, aware at once of the strong, fresh breeze that blew in directly from the sea.

'One thing in our favour,' von Bayern said, and they ran towards the Beaver.

When they reached it, von Bayern climbed straight inside, followed by Steiner, but the Artillery sergeant grabbed Chavasse by the sleeve. 'It isn't possible, sir,' he said and his face was white. 'You haven't got a clear run. It's all broken up by water channels.'

Chavasse had no time to reply, because the engine coughed into life with a shattering roar, drowning every other sound. He pushed the sergeant away, clambered up into the cabin and Steiner secured the door.

Chavasse went into the cockpit and sat in the co-pilot's seat. 'What do you think?' he yelled above the roar of the engine.

Von Bayern didn't even bother to reply. There was a strange, set smile on his face. He taxied into the wind and gave her full throttle. The Beaver shuddered and seemed to jump forward on a diagonal course to the sea that gave them the longest strip of beach there was left.

They went across one water channel and then another and another, spray flying up in great clouds on either side, von Bayern stamping hard on the rudder bar to keep her straight. And then she lifted, one wing dipping slightly and the breakers were beneath them, the wheels skimming the whitecaps.

But they weren't rising, that was the terrible thing-the nose was dropping and von Bayern didn't seem to be doing anything about it. Quite suddenly, they were moving very fast indeed, the engine note deepening into a full-throated roar and only then did he pull back the control column.

They lifted into the evening sky, climbing fast and behind them on the beach, the Artillery sergeant watched them go, awe on his face.

Coming in low over the coast, von Bayern tapped Chavasse on the shoulder and pointed down to the old stone jetty below, the power boat moored beside it. There was no need for words. Chavasse took out the revolver Harrison had given him, emptied it and replaced the cartridges one by one.

The land beneath them seemed very green after the rain and, beyond, the sun dropped down towards the mountains and the valleys were filled with purple shadow. They went over a rise and dipped into Glenmore and there was the house beside the stream, the improvised airstrip flanked by poplar trees, the windsock lifting slightly in the breeze on the flagstaff at one end.