Dennis Wheatley - The Secret War

My dearest one,

I have your note. If anything could help me to face the future it is that you understand. Christopher is so weak, so helpless; so very much alone. He put me through hell this evening, but I’m so fond of him that I stood for it and I shall never give him further cause to doubt my faithfulness to him.

He has promised to forget how he found us and is still determinedd to go through with his mission, I've no right to ask you anything, but if you can bear to remain with us please carry on tomorrow as nothing had happened.

Afterwards, we must never meet again, I couldn't bear it. But, in case anything goes wrong, I want you! to know that I have loved you from the very first moment we met years back in England and that I shall never love anyone else with real love as long as I live.

Valerie

Lovelace sat silent with the letter in his hand, his thoughts racing and chaotic. So she did love him after all, Those precious kisses the night before had not been born of impulse or a sentimental weakness welling up from schoolgirl memories, as he had imagined on receiving no sign of any kind in reply to his note. She loved him. Had loved him for years in secret and here he was trapped in an undertaking, he always hated and in which all the chances were he would lose his life. If only he had known a few hours earlier; but if he had. could he .. .

Christopher seized his arm and shook it; breaking in on his thoughts. `Quick man you must get out. In minutes it'll be too late.'

, It is too late.'

'Nonsense! They haven't closed the gate yet.'

`I mean it's too late for me to back out of this thing

'It's not. For God's sake! Don't you see that once I'd read her letter I never intended to ask more of you than your help to get in here. You must go back so you can look after Valerie.'

Lovelace shook his head. `I can't. I could never look her in the face again if I left you on your own here now.'

The rolling of the drums ceased. The horn sounded again. In the deepening shadows a score of men slowly thrust to the heavy wooden gates of the inner court.

For a long time Lovelace and Christopher crouched under their thin covering of straw in silence; each sunk in his own thoughts. The brief twilight gave place to darkness, but fires were lit on the bare ground and flaming torches placed in sconces round the walls. From the outer courts there came the murmur of discordant singing, the clopping of hoofs as the horses stamped restlessly, the wailing of a child, and all the other occasional noises which make up the night sounds of an Eastern village.

`How long must we wait?' asked Christopher at last? `Until they sleep. Our only hope lies in complete surprise. To do the job and be away over the wall before they realise what's happened.'

`We may have to shoot some of the bodyguard.'

`I can't help it.' Lovelace's tone was bitter now. `They're hired mercenaries paid to deal death or risk it in the service of their master. It's the same gang that tried to murder me in Alexandria and who shot down Valerie's plane without the least compunction. There must be no stupid weakness. Once we go in we've got to shoot to kill.'

An hour, two hours, drifted by. Their vigil seemed endless. Christopher was beginning to think the dawn might come before they would be able to carry out their business, but when he got out his watch he was amazed to find it only a little after ten. Lovelace was not surprised; he had a fairly accurate idea of the time from the movement of the bright stars overhead.

The outer courts were quieter now. The great bulk of Ras Desoum's followers were already fast asleep, but near his house, the bungalow, and the inner gateway, occasional figures still moved and were thrown up for a second in sharp silhouette against the brightness of the fires.

`We'll give them another hour,' Lovelace murmured as Christopher told him the time, `then see if we dare risk it.'

The hour dragged by. At the end of it all movement in the inner court had ceased, most of the torches had burnt out to blackened sticks, and the fires were dying down.

Christopher stirred restlessly in the heap of straw. Suddenly he muttered : `For God's sake let's get on with it.'

`All right.' Lovelace stood up and got out his heavy automatic. `Come on, then. Stick to the shadows as much as you can and, if you hear anyone coming, go dead as a log.'

With cautious steps they moved from their hiding place, edged round the hut, back to the wall again on its far side, and so on; following the outline of the court round two of its sides until they were within twenty yards of the bungalow.

One window, which had been concealed from them before by an intervening angle of the house, was still lighted. The glow from the window faintly illuminated the stoep. The machine gun was still upon it, trained on the open space and gate, yet, to their surprise, not a single gunman was on duty.

`The room with the light will be Zarrif’s,' Lovelace whispered. `No one but that scheming devil would work so late. Queer none of the bodyguard is about. Perhaps he considers Ras Desoum's men and the two outer courtyards sufficient protection. That's not like him, though, because the wall the bungalow backs against has nothing on its other side; only an open field.'

Christopher pressed his arm. `If you can grab that machine gun to cover our retreat, I'll break in and do the job.'

'Let's think of our retreat first. See that low shanty leaning up against this end of the bungalow. Think you could swing yourself up on to its roof?' 'Yes,' Christopher breathed, His pale face was

got and he was trembling with excitement now.

`Right, then,' Lovelace went on quietly. 'From that roof you can easily hoist yourself on to the wall. Don’t, wait for me. I'll take care of myself and I'll probably be out before you are, The second you've killed your man you're to dash out and over, It's no more than a twelve foot drop on the other side, Pick yourself a, and beat it for the car as though all the devils in hell were after you. Sssss what's that?'

At the same second Christopher heard the soft footfalls. Instinctively they both drew back into the deeper shadows. A watchman came into view swinging a 1antern.

Lovelace pressed himself against the side of the hut. It gave behind him. He staggered and nearly fell, put one foot inside the door that had swung open, to save himself, but it met empty space instead of ground, Next second he had pitched backward in the darkness and was falling ! falling ! falling !

In those brief, frightful seconds he expected to be smashed to pieces when he reached the bottom of that infernal pit, but he brought up on a soft and yielding substance that gave beneath him.

By the mercy of Heaven the safety catch of his automatic was still down so it had not exploded. For a moment he lay on his back, wondering what in heaven and hell could have happened, then Christopher's voice came in an urgent whisper from above: 'Lovelace, where are you? What the , .

'Quiet!' Lovelace cut him short. 'If you've got your torch handy, close that door and shine it downwards,'

A moment later a beam of light cut into the pitch black darkness, and he saw that he was sitting on a great mound of loose grain. He had fallen backwards into an Abyssinian storage pit and the sheer, dark tunnel of it showed over his head to Christopher's light a dozen feet above.

He could not get up again by the way he had come own. That was certain. Fearful now that he was trapped unless Christopher could find something with which to haul him up, he replaced his pistol underneath his robe and, getting out his own torch, flashed it round to see if the place had any other exit:

To his relief he found that he was at one end of a large cellar. Arms, ammunition, bales of cotton, root crops and all sorts of other things were stored in it besides the pyramid of grain on which he sat. A set of stone stairs at the far end and two ladders leading to trapdoors in other places showed that the cellar had several entrances. He slid down the heap of grain, hurried to the steps at the far end and up them. Pressing gently on the wooden door at their top, he found that it was unlocked and gave on to a dark corridor. Hastening down the steps, he ran back to the grain shaft and peered up to where Christopher was still holding the light.