1967 - Have This One on Me (20 page)

‘Are there any other exits?’ Girland asked.

‘This is the only possible exit,’ Jan told him. ‘The other one from the right hand tunnel leads under the frontier and the exit comes out in Austria, but there is water in the tunnel. You can’t get through. We have tried. It means swimming through the tunnel that is four kilometres long. The water is oily and stagnant. You can’t breathe. It is impossible.’

‘You mean the right hand tunnel leads directly into Austria?’ Girland asked, his voice sharpening.

‘Yes, but that means nothing. No one can swim in that water and stay alive. There are escaping gases. The water is frightful ... oil, filth and then there are water rats. It is wasting time even to think of escaping that way.’

‘You are sure about this?’

‘Of course I’m sure,’ Jan said curtly. ‘Do you think we haven’t tried? This is a direct access to the Austrian frontier. Last year, I lost a good friend who took the risk rather than face the minefield. His body floated back.’ He grimaced. ‘Covered in oil, bloated and half eaten by rats. That way is impossible.’

He stood up. ‘We had better get moving again.’

They started off, moving more slowly, aware that the ground was rising. Every half hour, they stopped to rest for ten minutes, then they continued on again. By now Girland had his arm around Mala, supporting her. She was crying, dragging one foot after the other, scarcely conscious.

Malik had returned to the air shaft. He found the Sergeant and the five soldiers sitting on a fallen tree, anxiously staring at the hole that led to the mine, their rifles at the alert.

The dust and smoke no longer drifted from the hole and Malik went to the hole and knelt down, flashing the powerful beam of a flashlight he had brought with him from the radio truck into the mouth of the tunnel.

The air in the tunnel seemed to have cleared, but he saw no reason why he should risk his life which he valued. He stood up and beckoned to the young Sergeant.

‘Here, take this flashlight and go down,’ he said.

The Sergeant took the flashlight and without hesitation lowered himself down the air shaft, hung for a moment, then slid down into the tunnel.

Malik waited impatiently. Several minutes crawled by, then the Sergeant appeared at the bottom of the air shaft. He seemed shocked, his eyes very wide, his face white.

‘The Lieutenant is dead,’ he announced.

Malik knelt at the top of the hole.

‘Never mind about the Lieutenant,’ he snapped. ‘What’s happened to the tunnel?’

‘It is completely blocked.’

‘What is the air like down there?’

‘It is all right.’

Malik hesitated, then swinging his feet down into the hole, he joined the Sergeant.

‘There is another man down here Comrade Malik,’ the Sergeant said. ‘The grenade has killed him.’

Malik walked over to Worthington’s body, swung the beam of his flashlight on Worthington’s dead face. Then he walked a few steps to examine the blocked tunnel. Piles of rock and sand had formed a solid wall. Even as he was examining this obstruction, he could hear rocks thudding down somewhere behind the wall. He cursed under his breath. Had the fugitives been buried? he wondered. He could not afford to take chances.

He must find out if there were any other exits from the mine.

Three soldiers, lying flat, hauled him up from the air shaft and then they brought up the Sergeant.

‘Stay here,’ Malik said. ‘There is an ambulance coming,’ and he strode off in the gathering dusk to the radio truck.

Back at the farmhouse, Smernoff was snarling over the telephone to an official of the Ministry of Mines whom he had traced to his two-room apartment. The official told him it was possible that there was a map of the disused mine, but this could not be found until the following morning. The Ministry was closed.

‘I want it immediately!’ Smernoff barked. ‘Do you understand? Immediately!’

‘It is impossible. Comrade,’ the official stammered.

‘Nothing is impossible! I am now returning to Prague. If the map is not waiting for me at the Ministry by the time I arrive, you will suffer!’ Smernoff yelled. ‘This is an affair of State! I want this map and I intend to have it!’ He slammed down the receiver.

In the tunnel, Jan was consulting his watch.

‘It is after nine,’ he said. ‘It will be dark enough. We have only a few metres before we come to the exit.’

They were grouped together at the end of the tunnel. The opening was overgrown by shrubs and trees. The cool night air came to them, fanning their heated faces.

‘It’ll take us at least four hours to cross the minefield. You could still have time to follow us,’ Jan said. ‘I’ve told you what to expect. You must go slow ... and I mean slow. If you move a metre in five minutes, you should be safe. Do you understand?’

‘Yes,’ Girland said.

‘You will watch us cross. You will see our direction. Follow that and it will bring you to the soft ground, so you can get under the wire. Be very careful going under the wire. If you touch it, you will die. You understand?’

‘Yes.’ Girland repeated.

‘All right, then we will go.’ Jan smiled at him and offered his hand. ‘Good luck.’

Girland gripped his hand.

‘And good luck to you.’

The two girls kissed. Mala was shaking with nerves. Blanca touched her hair softly.

‘Don’t be frightened. He’ll look after you. He is like my man,’ she said quietly.

Jan put his hand on Blanca’s shoulder and she left Mala and followed him to the mouth of the tunnel.

Mala shuddered and turned to Girland. He put his arm around her, holding her close to him.

‘This is going to be a terrific story to tell your grandchildren,’ he said. ‘You will bore them to tears.’

‘I don’t want grandchildren! I’m frightened,’ Mala wailed.

‘You can’t be frightened with me around,’ Girland said, and pulling her against him, his lips found hers.

Mala strained wildly against him her hands sliding down his broad back, then Girland pulled away, took her hand and led her to the entrance of the tunnel.

Jan and Blanca had got through the undergrowth, covering the exit of the tunnel. They were squatting on their heels, examining the innocent looking strip of thick grass that separated the distance to the high electrified fence.

Girland and Mala joined them.

Every two minutes two blades of light from the watchtower searchlights swept the ground. The two lights did not quite meet, leaving a narrow lane of ground unlit.

Jan said quietly, ‘That’s the way we’ll go.’ He had shed his rucksack and his rifle. He spoke to his wife in rapid Czech.

They looked at each other and smiled. Then they kissed. ‘So long,’ Jan said, turning to Girland. ‘We meet again in Austria.’

The two men gripped hands, then sliding flat, Jan began to move out into the open. Blanca, white-faced, tense, managed a smile at Mala, then she began to crawl into the open behind her husband.

Girland found he was sweating. Mala put her hand in his.

He could feel she was trembling. He pulled her against him, his arm going around her.

Centimetre by centimetre. Jan and Blanca moved on. Every time the blades of the searchlights revolved near them, they remained motionless, then as the lights moved away, they continued the snail-like crawl.

The tension was unbearable. Even Girland’s iron nerves were strained. Mala couldn’t bring herself to watch anymore.

She clung to Girland, her face buried against his shoulder.

Girland thought: I wonder if I’ll get her across? Suppose she panics. She could do. I’ll have to take her by my side. She won’t follow me. I can’t trust her to go first. I have a problem here.

He could still see the other two as they crept with infinite care across the deadly grass. They had only covered ten metres, probably less. Girland longed for a cigarette, but he realised it would be too dangerous to strike a light.

Minutes crawled by.

‘They’re going fine.’ Girland said, holding Mala against him. ‘Relax ... they still have a long way to go ...’

Then something happened. Girland was never to know exactly what did happen. It was possible that Jan, dragging himself forward on his elbows, came into direct contact with a hidden mine.

There was a blinding flash and a bang. Jan’s body was Hung up in the air and fell with a sickening thump some metres away and another mine exploded.

Mala screamed

Girland held on to her, his mouth dry his heart hammering.

Blanca jumped to her feet and was running frantically towards Jan when machine guns opened up from the two watchtowers.

Girland saw her caught in a stream of bullets. She reared back and more bullets slammed into her, then she fell and another mine exploded.

The whole section of the frontier erupted into a blazing, nerve-shattering roar as machine gun bullets churned up the ground, kicking up a curtain of dust and flying grass.

A siren began to wail, and the night became hideous with the noise of violence.

chapter eight

F
or the past hour, Malik had been sitting in the radio truck waiting and seething with fury. Next to him sat a Sergeant Radio Engineer, listening through headphones to a flood of messages coming to the truck. So far nothing of importance had come through. An officer at the farm house had sent a message to say that Smernoff had returned to Prague. Malik guessed Smernoff had gone after a map of the mine. In the meantime, he had to contain his impatience.

As he was lighting cigarette, he heard in the far distance a dull thump of an explosion. Then another. Then faint sounds of machine gun fire. He stiffened to attention and looked at the Sergeant who was sitting forward, listening.

There was a long pause, then the Sergeant said something in Czech into the microphone strapped to his chest. He listened.

Again he said something, then taking off his headphones, he turned to Malik, his face showing his excitement.

‘There has been an attempt to cross the frontier. Comrade Malik,’ he said. ‘A man and a woman have been killed by a mine. An investigation is now taking place.’

Girland? Malik wondered.

‘I want a description of those two!’ he said. ‘Get it!’

The Sergeant replaced his headphones. He flicked switches on his radio set, frowned, flicked more switches, waited, then shook his head.

‘They have gone off the air Comrade,’ he said finally.

‘Keep trying!’

‘A message coming in Comrade Smernoff to Comrade Malik,’ the Sergeant said. ‘He wants to talk to you,’ and he passed the headphones and the microphone to Malik.

‘Boris?’

‘Yes. I have a map of the mine. There are only two exits. One of them is completely blocked with water ... the other leads directly to the minefield at the frontier.’

‘They have already tried to cross. Two of them are dead,’ Malik said. ‘Are you sure the second exit is blocked?’

‘Yes ... the tunnel is full of water.’

Malik thought for a brief moment.

‘Come here and bring the map,’ he said and handed back the headphones and the microphone to the Sergeant. ‘See if you can find out who these two dead are.’

The Sergeant juggled with switches. After a few moments, he got a reply. Turning to Malik he said, ‘The bodies are in the middle of the minefield. It will take some time to get to them. From what can be seen through the field glasses, the man is heavily built and the woman is blonde.’

Could it be Girland? Malik wondered. But if Girland was still alive, would he attempt to reach the Austrian frontier by the second exit? Smernoff had said the exit was blocked by water. Did that mean Girland couldn’t break out? Was he trapped in the mine?

There was nothing to do but to wait for Smernoff to arrive.

‘Ask them how long it will take to clear the minefield,’ Malik said.

The Sergeant again made contact with one of the watchtowers. After some moments of talking, he said to Malik, ‘About five hours. They have no mine detectors. These are coming. The clearance will be dangerous and slow.’

Malik had some experience of frontier hazards. The possible delay came as no surprise. Five hours! If Girland was alive, he could do a lot in that time. He might even escape!

He got out of the truck and began to pace up and down the narrow lane, smoking cigarette after cigarette.

Smernoff arrived two hours later. He had been driving like a lunatic and twice he had nearly skidded into a ditch. Even Malik was startled to see him so soon. He had thought Smernoff couldn’t possibly have made the journey under two and a half hours.

‘Let me see the map,’ Malik said, striding to Smernoff’s dusty car as Smernoff got out.

Smernoff handed him the map. Using his flashlight and spreading the map on the hot hood of the car. Malik examined it.

‘There are two exits. You see this second one comes out three hundred metres inside the Austrian border. But I am told it is completely blocked.’ Smernoff indicated on the map the two exits.

‘What does that mean ... completely blocked?’ Malik demanded.

‘There is water in the tunnel for at least four kilometres.’

‘Girland would think nothing of swimming four kilometres!’

Smernoff grinned.

‘The water is stagnant, oily and full of water rats. They would eat him alive. Besides, there is a concentration of gas in the tunnel.’

‘How do you know?’ Malik snapped.

‘They made a test six months ago. The gas is lethal.’

‘It could have evaporated by now.’

Smernoff shrugged.

‘Experts have told me the tunnel is impassable. You either believe them or you don’t.’

‘If we were dealing with anyone but Girland, I would believe it. Girland is different. If there is the slightest chance of escaping, he will escape.’

‘So what are you going to do?’

Malik moved away from the car while he thought. Then he returned and studied the map.

‘The second exit is here,’ he said, putting his thick finger on the map. ‘That is where I’m going to be when - if - he comes out.’

Smernoff stared at him.

‘Are you mad? You can’t touch him in Austria!’