1958 - The World in My Pocket (27 page)

Ginny let go of the gun she held in her hand. It dropped onto the grass.

Bleck backed away, covering them both.

‘Get away from it,’ he snarled.

Ginny moved to Kitson.

Bleck circled them, picked up Ginny’s gun and threw it into the lake.

‘Now you two listen to me,’ he said. ‘We’re busting this truck. Don’t kid yourselves I can’t handle you both. We’re not going to move from here until we’ve opened the truck and got the dough. If you don’t want it, I do, and I’m going to have it.’ He waved his gun at Kitson. ‘Get in there and get the cylinders out.’

Shrugging, Kitson went over to the caravan and Bleck followed him.

‘I’m not going to manage this on my own,’ Kitson said. ‘Gypo and I put them up. I know what they weigh. You’d better get hold of the other end.’

Bleck grinned. He put his gun in its holster.

‘Don’t start anything funny, plough boy,’ he said. ‘I can handle you any time.’

Kitson reached up and jerked the cylinder out of its bracket.

Bleck eased his end out and got it on his shoulder. The two men slowly backed out of the caravan.

As Kitson got clear of the caravan, he suddenly let go of his end of the cylinder. The unexpected shock as the cylinder thudded to the ground threw Bleck off balance.

Kitson jumped forward. His right fist thudded into the side of Bleck’s neck, flattening him.

Cursing, Bleck tugged at his gun, but Kitson’s thirteen stone of bone and muscle came down on him. For several seconds the two men fought like animals, then Bleck drove his knee into Kitson’s chest and threw him off. He got his gun out as Kitson reached him.

Kitson’s hand grabbed Bleck’s wrist and at the same time he jolted his left into Bleck’s face.

Bleck grunted and let go of the gun.

Kitson was on his feet and covering Bleck with the gun before he could shake off the effect of the punch.

Bleck half sat up, blood running down his face from a cut under his eye, his lips drawn off his teeth in a snarl.

‘I’ll fix you for this!’ he said viciously.

‘Your fixing days are over,’ Kitson said, breathing heavily.

Then suddenly, without warning, there came a roar of an aircraft engine and a swish of air as a small military training plane flew over their heads, flattening the grass with its slipstream as it banked steeply and flew on across the valley.

Bleck staggered to his feet, staring after the aircraft.

‘They saw us!’ he gasped. ‘They couldn’t fail to have seen us! They’ll be up here and after us!’

The three stood motionless, watching the aircraft bank in a tight circle and head back towards them.

‘Get under cover!’ Bleck yelled and he made a frantic rush towards the woods.

The other two scattered, also running towards the woods, but the aircraft was already on them. Flying not more than a hundred feet above them, the aircraft swept over them with a roar and a rush of wind. They could see two men leaning out of the open cockpits, looking directly down at them, then the aircraft banked and went away.

Ginny and Kitson looked at each other, their eyes frightened.

Bleck bawled, ‘Get under cover, you fools! Don’t stand out there!’

Ignoring him, Kitson said, ‘They saw us. They’ll be up here, Ginny.’

‘Yes. I said they would get on to us.’

Kitson moved quickly to the road, crossed it and, crouching, he looked over the grass verge down the long zigzag road that was now clearly to be seen right down into the valley.

About ten miles down the road he saw three cars coming fast, spreading a cloud of dust as they raced into the twisting bends in the road.

He felt a little knock of fear at his heart as he ran back to Ginny.

‘They’re coming now!’

Bleck came out of the wood cursing.

‘Can you see them?’

‘Yes. They’ll be here in ten minutes at the rate they are coming.’

‘We’ve got a chance,’ Bleck said, his voice shaking. ‘Get the Buick. If we can get over the top of the mountain we stand a chance.’

‘A mile further up the road peters out,’ Kitson said. ‘We might climb . . .’

Bleck ran to the caravan and came back carrying the automatic rifle.

‘They’re not taking me alive,’ he said, his eyes glittering. ‘No death cell for me.’

Kitson opened the Buick door and Ginny slid in beside him.

He could feel her trembling and he patted her knee.

‘Take it easy,’ he said. ‘We still have a chance.’

As Bleck got in beside Ginny, Kitson eased the car over the rough grass and onto the road. The three of them looked back at the truck, standing under the trees.

‘The punks said it was the safest truck in the world,’ Bleck said savagely. ‘They weren’t bluffing.’

Kitson sent the car banging and bouncing up the road.

Bleck leaned out of the window to get his last look at the truck. There’s more than a million dollars in that truck, he was thinking. There’s my future and my life locked up in there too.

Kitson drove fast, skidding into the bends, his face tense, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. They came to the first hairpin bend, and he slowed to take it, but misjudged it. He had to stop and reverse while Bleck cursed him.

As they began to climb again, the aircraft, like a worrying sheep dog, circled above them.

‘If I could get a shot at that punk!’ Bleck snarled, staring up at the circling plane.

In the distance they heard the wailing note of a police siren.

Ginny shivered, her hands turning into fists.

Kitson was now having trouble in holding the car to the road, which was full of potholes and loose stones washed down the mountain from the past storm.

On their left was the side of the mountain that went straight up like a granite wall. On the right side was a sheer drop into the valley.

‘We’re not going to get much further,’ Kitson said, slowing down. ‘This is about where the road packs up.’

As he turned into the next hairpin bend, he stopped abruptly.

A fall of rocks and shrubs blocked the road. There was no way of getting the Buick past the obstruction.

Holding the automatic rifle in his hand, Bleck got out of the car. He paid no attention to the other two, but ran forward and began to climb the obstruction.

Kitson paused to look up.

High above them, he could see the snow-covered mountain peak. He hesitated a moment, then, catching Ginny by her arm, he pointed upwards.

‘We’ll go that way, Ginny,’ he said. ‘We stand a chance of hiding up there. If we stick with Bleck, we’re bound to be caught’

Ginny flinched as she looked at the face of the mountain.

‘I couldn’t climb up there,’ she said. ‘You go, Alex.’

He was pushing her along now.

‘We go together,’ he said and started up the face of the mountain. The first hundred yards was easy enough and Ginny followed him. Every now and then Kitson paused, reached down and hoisted her up beside him. They could hear the siren much closer now. The climb became harder and their progress slower. They both felt horribly exposed against the bare face of the mountain, but fifty feet higher up was a mass of rocks behind which they could hide and Kitson kept urging Ginny to climb faster.

Once, in her panic, Ginny slipped, but Kitson grabbed her, not letting her pause, but pulling her up and forcing her on. They reached the mass of rock as they heard the cars come to a halt below them.

They lay side by side, gasping for breath and peered down.

There was an overhanging rock that hid the lower part of the road from their view, but, looking to his right, Kitson caught sight of Bleck running frantically up the road, beating the air with his free hand and looking back from time to time.

He lost sight of Bleck as he rounded the bend in the road.

Kitson looked upwards, planning his next move.

Far above him, still sheltered from the road was a broad ledge, screened by shrubs. He reckoned if they could get up there they could hide until the police got tired of looking for them.

He touched Ginny’s arm.

‘Feel like going on up?’

She nodded.

‘Yes, all right.’

He smiled at her. Their faces were close and she moved forward, pressing her lips on his.

‘I’m sorry, Alex,’ she said. ‘This is all my fault.’

‘I had the choice,’ he said. ‘It just didn’t work out.’

They could hear men’s voices below, talking excitedly.

‘They’ve found the Buick,’ Kitson whispered. ‘Come on, let’s go.’

They began to climb again.

It was a nightmare business for Ginny, and she would never have made it without Kitson to pull her over the difficult places. As they neared the ledge, she suddenly stopped climbing. Her foot rested on the root of a shrub, her hands gripped the pointed end of a rock. She was pressed against the mountain side and her eyes were closed.

‘Go on, Alex,’ she panted. ‘I can’t go any further. Leave me. I just can’t do it.’

Kitson looked up. They were only a few feet from the ledge.

Then as he looked down at Ginny, just below him, he saw beyond her the long drop into the valley and a wave of dizziness swept over him. He shut his eyes, hanging onto a shrub, feeling sweat start out on his face.

Looking up, Ginny saw him clinging just above her and she thought he was going to fall.

‘Alex!!’

‘It’s okay,’ he gasped. ‘I’m just dizzy. Don’t look down, Ginny. Just hang on a moment.’

They remained there like two flies on a wall, then, very cautiously, Kitson began to move again. He found a better foothold, then he reached down towards Ginny.

‘Give me your hand,’ he said. ‘Come on. Don’t be scared. I won’t let you go!’

‘No, Alex! You’ll never get me up there. I’ll fall.’

‘Give me your hand!’

‘Oh, Alex, I’m scared! I’m going to let go! I can’t hang on.’

He grabbed hold of her wrist as she released her grip. Her choked scream was whipped away by the wind. She dangled at the end of her arms, her skirts billowing out, her long, slim legs moving as if she were walking.

Kitson hung on, taking her weight.

‘Ginny! You’ve got to help,’ he panted. ‘I’ll swing you against the side. Try to get your feet on something, then I’ll lift you.’

He swung her and her toes scrabbled frantically for a hold, found one and he felt her weight come off his arm.

Holding her, he looked down at her.

‘That’s fine,’ he said. ‘Give me a moment.’

They remained like that. A long minute crawled by, then he said, ‘Okay. Now!’ and he heaved upwards.

She slid up and over the projecting ledge and collapsed limply at his side.

Then they heard a shot. The sound was very loud and set up an echo.

Ginny stiffened and her hand closed tightly on Kitson’s wrist.

The shot had come from below and to their right.

Cautiously, Kitson leaned forward and peered down. He had a clear view of the road below. He could see the Buick and nearby, three police cars.

Moving very cautiously up the road, just beyond the obstruction, were ten soldiers and three police officers. About fifty yards further up the road and just around one of the bends lay Bleck. He was sheltering behind two small boulders, the barrel of his automatic rifle pushed forward between them. Another fifty yards up the road, just out of Bleck’s view, stood a jeep with three soldiers by it.

Kitson realized that the jeep must have come up the other side of the mountain and Bleck was trapped. He felt a surge of relief that he had gone up the mountain instead of following Bleck.

By the upper bend in the road, a soldier lay face down in the road, blood running from a wound in his head.

The soldiers coming up the road, paused at the bend, keeping out of Bleck’s sight. They were only twenty feet from him.

A major, short, dapper, and blond peered cautiously around the bend in the road, spotted the dead soldier and hurriedly drew back.

Raising his voice, he shouted, ‘We know you’re there! Come on out with your hands in the air! Come on! You’ve got no chance! Come on out!’

Kitson could see Bleck pressing himself further into the ground.

Ginny joined Kitson and looked down.

Although they were two hundred feet above the soldiers, the men seemed alarmingly close to them.

‘Are you coming or do we come and get you?’ the major shouted.

‘Come and get me, punks!’ Bleck yelled, a savage, frightened note in his voice. ‘Come and get me, and see what you get!’

The major said something to one of the police officers who nodded.

The major then walked over to a soldier and spoke to him.

There was a brief consultation. The soldier handed his rifle to another soldier, then took out a small object from one of his pouch pockets and started forward cautiously.

Kitson watched. His heart pounding.

When the soldier reached the bend in the road, he paused.

‘This is your last chance!’ the major shouted. ‘Come on out!’

Bleck’s reply was profane and obscene.

The major shouted, ‘Okay, let him have it!’

The soldier tossed the object high into the air. It rose, turned lazily and began its fall.

Ginny bid her face against Kitson’s shoulder.

Kitson started to yell a warning to Bleck, then stopped, knowing if he made a sound, he would give away his own hiding place.

The grenade dropped squarely in front of the two boulders behind which Bleck was sheltering.

Kitson shut his eyes.

The Krrrump! of the exploding grenade was unbelievably loud, and Kitson heard the rattle of stones and the whistling of flying splinters.

He moved back, not looking down and put his arms around Ginny.

She clung to him, shivering, and they remained like that.

A man suddenly shouted, ‘There’s only one here. Where are the other two? Where’s the girl?’

‘They won’t find us,’ Kitson said, his fingers running through Ginny’s copper-coloured hair. ‘They’ll never think of looking for us up here.’

Then he heard the aircraft coming.

From above he knew they must be completely exposed to view.

They looked at each other, then Ginny tried to burrow against him, making herself as small as possible. The cold clutch of fear at his heart, Kitson watched the aircraft coming.