Dennis Wheatley: Faked Passports

Gregory grunted. "Well, its November, remember, and we're dammed lucky that there's no snow. They had snow in the war zone over a fortnight ago, and that's hundreds of miles further south than this place. On my last trip into Germany I came through the Maginot and Siegfried Lines disguised as a German private, and my God the cold was fierce! This is nothing to it."

Charlton turned his head towards the spot where Gregory’s; cigarette glowed in the darkness. "You're the hell of a tiger, aren't you, making your way through war zones and starting revolutions and one thing and another "

`I suppose I am," Gregory grinned. He was feeling better again now that he could sit still and rest his wounded shoulder. 'It's not that I'm particularly brave certainly no braver than to airman like yourself who takes a hellish risk every time he flies over enemy territory; it's just that I get a lot of kick out of pitting my wits against those of other people. But, to be quite honest, I never take a chance of getting hurt unless I absolutely have to."

"Nonsense! " Charlton laughed. "What about to night when you had the bright idea of lamming me over the head with the heel of your shoe in order that you could crash the plane and get back to that girl of yours?"

"Oh well, that was rather different. You were quite right when you said that I was in love with her; and anyone who's in love is crazy."

That's a good excuse but I've a feeling that you're the sort of chap who would have acted just as crazily if it had been some job of work which you felt you had to get on with, instead of a woman, that made you so anxious to get back to Berlin." "Perhaps. Just all depends how important the job was; but you can take my word for it in the normal way I'm an extraordinarily cautious person. `He who fights and runs away ‘that’s my motto. By sticking to it I've managed to live through the hell of a lot of trouble to the ripe old age of thirty nine."

"Well done. Methuselah Then you're fourteen years ahead of me. But I bet I'll never live to make up the leeway not with this filthy war on."

"Since you feel like that to night's little affair may yet prove the best thing that could have happened to you. If we are caught you'll be interned, and safe for the duration."

"Thanks. But the idea doesn't appeal. I'd rather continue to lend a hand against little old 'Itler. Besides, if we're caught, what about you?"

"Oh, I'll be shot; because I'm not a member of one of the fighting Services but a secret agent."

"Aren't you a bit scared? I mean our chances don't seem up to much, do they?"

"Frankly, no. We're faced with two major liabilities which are going to make it extremely difficult for us to get clean away. Firstly, my wound, which prevents our travelling swiftly. I'm afraid it's very inflamed and there's no doubt that I ought really to lie up for at least two or three days without moving at all. Then there's the fact that you can't speak German."

"Our clothes are a bit of a give away, too."

"Yes. At a push I could pass in a crowd, since this is a German officer's greatcoat that I'm wearing; but your leather kit won't be easy to laugh off, as they're certain to be looking for two English airmen. Fortunately, though, they didn't see us at all clearly so they can't issue our descriptions and, of course, they haven't got the faintest idea of the identity of the people in the plane that they shot down."

"Perhaps tomorrow we may run across some farm labourer whose things I could buy or, if necessary, take off him by force," Charlton suggested.

"Yes; or we may be able to beg, borrow or steal a change of clothing."

"The devil of it is that first thing in the morning those damned soldiers and the police will be beating these woods with bloodhounds."

Gregory shook his head. "No, I don't think so. They'll beat the woods all right, but not with bloodhounds. For a bloodhound to be any help you've got to give it some article of clothing that's been worn by the person you re hunting, so that it can get the scent, and they've got nothing of that kind in their possession. Anyhow, time enough to face to morrow's troubles when to morrow comes. Let's try to get some sleep."

They stretched out in the ditch side by side, pillowing their heads on their handkerchiefs spread out over scraped up piles of leaves. The silence of the wood was broken only by the occasional scurrying of small animals in the undergrowth as they went about their nightly business. Once Gregory spotted a pair of tiny bright eyes gleaming at him out of the blackness but at his first movement the little animal scampered away in quick alarm. The cold was intense and they would have suffered from it severely if both of them had not been very warmly clad. As it was; it kept them from sleep for some time although they buried their hands in their arm pits and their faces deep in the turned up collars of their coats; but at last they dropped off from sheer exhaustion.

When they awoke the pale light of the chill November dawn was just filtering through the naked branches of the trees. Cold, cramped and stiff, they sat up to peer about them. From the gully in which they lay they could not see more than a dozen yards in any direction or any sign of a break in the wood.

Charlton shivered and said miserably: "Oh God Then it wasn't a nightmare We really were shot down and are on the run."

Gregory gave an "Ouch " of pain as he moved. His wound had set stiff during the night and as he lifted his left arm a violent pain ran through his shoulder.

"You've said it " he replied through gritted teeth. "It's no dream you're having, but a lovely, real life adventure."

"Adventure be damned What wouldn't I give for a cup of tea, breakfast and a hot bath "

"Why not wish for caviar, a suite at the Ritz and Cleopatra smiling at you from a large double bed, while you're about it?" said Gregory. "You're just as likely to get one as the other."

Standing up. Freddie Charlton stretched himself. His fair, boyish face now showed little of the strain that he had been through the previous night, youth and vitality having quickly restored him to his normal physical well being, but his grey eyes were anxious as he stared down at Gregory.

"Well? You're the Führer in this little show; so you'd better think of something. We can't stay here for ever without food or drink. What D’you suggest that we should do?"

Gregory wriggled a large flask out of his hip pocket. "He who drinks, dines," he misquoted gravely, "and this is very good brandy and water. Take a pull to warn yourself up. It's much too early to expect me to do any thinking yet, though. My brain doesn't start to tick over until after ten and, unless my watch has stopped, it's only about six thirty; which is a revolting hour for any civilized being to be awake at all."

Freddie looked at Gregory curiously. He was often up at six himself and would long since have broken his neck flying if he had not had his wits about him just as much at that hour as later in the day. He was not certain if Gregory was seeking to impress him, by an apparently casual contempt for the danger they were in, or if he was a lazy, cynical devil who refused to be hurried into action as was in fact the case but he refrained from comment.

Having taken a couple of big gulps from the flask he exclaimed: "Ah, that's betters" and, handing back, went on: "Well, last night we decided that our first job must be to get some other sort of kit by robbing a labourer or a cottage or something, so the sooner we start moving the better."

"That's the idea; but I'm not doing any moving for the time being," Gregory replied. "As you're feeling so energetic, by all means go and have a look round, but for God's sake don't get yourself lost so that you can't find your way back to me. Otherwise, as you can't speak any German, you'll be completely sunk. Incidentally, you might keep a look out for a pond or a stream where I can bathe this wretched wound of mine before it starts to go gangrenous."