Dennis Wheatley - The Forbidden Territory

“You!”

“Yes, and I am the only one of you all who can do this thing successfully. I know the language, the people, the country. I shall buy clothes from this peasant — drive the car as far as the outskirts of Vinnitsa tonight, and then abandon it — walk into the town, and take a fourth-class ticket on the train like any kulak; tomorrow morning I shall be in Kiev. If Marie Lou is still at the hotel I will place her under the protection of the British Consul immediately — if not, I will find her for you.”

For a moment Richard was silent — then he turned and faced the Duke. “I say — that’s splendid of you, but I just can’t leave Russia without Marie Lou; let me come, too?”

De Richleau shook his head. “No, Richard. I would rather go alone.”

“Please — ? Hullo — what’s that?”

“Only the big ’plane again.”

“No, it’s not!” Richard was peering up through the trees. “It’s a different one — quite different.”

“Well, what of it?”

“But it’s extraordinary. It’s got a note just like my own ’plane. Look! There she is!” Richard pointed excitedly. “By Jove — it is!”

They ran back through the orchard to the meadow where the others were standing.

“Are you sure?” asked the Duke.

“Certain. She’s got the same markings. Look! She’s coming down!”

Above them in the clear blue of the early morning sky the little ’plane was slowly circling towards the earth.

“Say — who’ll this be?” asked Rex, anxiously.

“Marie Lou,” said the Duke.

“Ner...” Simon shook his head. “She can’t fly a ’plane.”

“It must be...” Richard laughed excitedly. “No one but Marie Lou knew about my ’plane and where to meet us.”

The machine was down to five hundred feet now; in a long sweep it curved into the wind and ’planed down towards them.

“Two people in her,” murmured De Richleau.

“Clever kid,” grinned Rex. “She’s squared a pilot to bring her along.”

They began to run across the meadow to the place where the ’plane would stop. “Best be careful,” panted Simon. “We’ll be in a muddle if it’s not her.”

“It is,” shouted Richard. “I can see her in the back.”

In another minute they were crowding round the ’plane and Marie Lou, her cheeks flushed and her eyes bright from the swift flight through the early morning air, had jumped to the ground.

Richard could see that despite the colour in her cheeks, her face was drawn, and her eyes swollen by crying. She gave him a long searching look as she said, quickly:

“Richard — what happened? Why did you leave me behind?”

He seized her hands and for a moment could hardly speak, it was such an enormous relief to see her safe and sound. “Marie Lou...” he stammered, “Marie Lou ... Simon bungled things, he thought you were going by train... and I was hit on the head, so they brought me with them, unconscious, in the car.... I’ve been through agonies this morning!”

“Oh, Richard,” she gave a little sob. “I thought I should go mad last night. I waited in the aerodrome till three this morning. I was terrified. I thought you had been killed or captured — and then when I heard that you had all been seen on the road in the car... I thought... oh, I do not know... it was awful!”

“You heard that — but how?”

“When it seemed that there was no more chance that you should come I went back to the hotel — the lounge was almost in darkness and I ran straight into Valeria Petrovna — she had been walking up and down all night waiting for news.”

“Good God! I wonder she didn’t give you up to the police.” As Richard spoke he followed Marie Lou’s glance, and realized that the tall pilot in breeches and field boots, standing near Simon, was Valeria Petrovna.

Marie Lou nodded. “She was nearly off her head because Simon had left her. One moment she was threatening to have me arrested, and the next pleading with me to let her know where Simon would cross the frontier, that she might see him again. At last we make a bargain — I agree to tell her the place, but she should take me with her.”

“You clever child.”

“No — it was an awful risk — because she might have betrayed you, but I have my little revolver still, and I said that I would shoot her dead if she should try to trick me.”

“What luck that she could fly a ’plane.”

“Yes, her friend taught her — you remember, the tall officer at the air-park in Moscow. But tell me about your hurt — my poor Richard, you look so ill and haggard!”

Richard laughed light-heartedly. “Oh, I’ll be all right now you’re safe. It’s only worry that got me down. We were just fixing up about going back to get you.”

“Oh, Richard!” Marie Lou’s eyes were full of smiles again, then, almost at once, her face grew grave. “But we are not safe — not yet. Leshkin has had all the guards along the frontier trebled, and last night he left Kiev in an aeroplane. He is determined to stop us getting across.”

“Good Lord! I wonder if he’s in the big bomber that’s been sailing up and down. If so, he’s bound to spot my ’plane. We can’t possible hide it.” Richard turned to Rex.

“Look here, there’s not a moment to lose. We must get out before the Bolshie ’plane comes over again. I’m going to take Marie Lou across right away. I’ll be back for another of you as soon as I can.”

“Okay,” Rex nodded. “Make it snappy, or they’ll get us yet!”

Valeria Petrovna had flung herself into Simon’s arms the moment she reached the ground. He looked at her with mingled love and amazement. She was still dressed in the riding kit she had worn for her part at the theatre. Her make-up had not been properly removed, and little furrows down her cheeks showed that she had been weeping bitterly.

“Simon — dear one — this is terrible, that I ’ave to lose you,” she sobbed, breaking into fresh tears. “An’ last night... oh, it was ’orrible. Did you know that Leshkin meant to arrest you again? But no, you could not. ’e come to my dressing-room after the secon’ act — ’e say that ’e ’as been to Moscawa. Oh, why did you not tell me of those men?”

“What men?” asked Simon, puzzled.

“The men you kill. Eight men of the Ogpu! Oh, you are a lion, my Simon, but Stalin, ’e was furious. Nevaire would ’e forgive that — an’ ’e ’as take back your pardon that ’e give me.”

“It was in self-defence!”

“No matter — you ’ave kill them, that is what Leshkin say; ’e is so ’appy that ’e do not know ’ow to contain ’imself. That is why ’e tell me. Then I leave the theatre — to warn you, just as I am — but when I arrive at the ’otel you are no longer there!” Valeria Petrovna struck her breast passionately with her clenched fists.

“Oh, my dear.” Simon slipped his arm around her shaking shoulders. “That was splendid of you.”

“I was distraught. I do not know what I do. Then, when I ’ave left the theatre, the manager ’e make announcement in the middle of the third act; ’e say that I am ill all suddenly, but Leshkin suspect at once and come rushing to the ’otel like a mad bull. ’ow I laugh at ’em when ’e find that you ’ave gone already — but ’e find that my car is gone, also, and ’e go mad with rage because ’e think that it was me that ’elp you to escape — but I, myself, do not know what to think.”

Valeria Petrovna burst into a fresh fit of sobbing, then, when she had recovered a little, she went on: “Leshkin question all the police on the telephone from the ’otel — they ’ave seen my car on the road to Birdichy, but you are not alone — there are others, also! Then ’e speak to the prison, an’ ’e find that your frien’s have escape through a tunnel in the ground... ’e is furious — livid — ’e order troops to ’old the bridge at Vinnitsa, then ’e rush off to follow you by ’plane, shaking ’is great fist in my face, and ’e swear that ’e would put his foot in the face of that damn’ Jew yet!”