It was the same driver who had brought Tweed from Esbjerg Airport earlier to the harbour and then on to the military base. His name was Langhorn and he was the only man whose face Tweed had seen. They were travelling without lights and how he had kept the Opel Omega on the road was beyond Tweed's understanding. To his right Tweed could just make out in the distance a range of sand dunes as Langhorn stopped the car at the summit of a small ridge. He lowered his window, letting in a current of freezing air. Yes, he had been right: he could hear a small aircraft flying further west. He frowned as the machine's engine faded.
Had Norlin blundered – sent an aircraft to spy out the land? The grave danger was that it would alert Dr Wand. Then he dismissed the idea: Norlin was too shrewd. Still… something cold and metallic was pressed against his skull from outside the open window.
`Tell the driver to remove his keys from the ignition or you'll both get a bullet,' a familiar voice threatened.
`That's a friendly welcome to South Jutland, Bob, I must say,' Tweed remarked.
`God! I'm sorry. I didn't recognize you in that hat,' Newman said, removing the Smith amp; Wesson.
`What's happening?' Tweed snapped as he climbed out into the swirling fog, which was growing denser.
Another figure appeared, ran forward. Paula flung her arms round Tweed, hugged him and kissed him on the cheek. Her windcheater felt damp from exposure to the drifting fog. He embraced her warmly, looked at Newman.
`Nice that someone is glad to see me. Which means I can well do without a hug from you.' He looked at Paula as she released him. 'I can't tell you how relieved I am to see you. Are you really all right? I suspect you've had a grim ordeal.'
`No time to talk about that now. Too much happening here.'
`The first thing is to get this car off the road into a dip in the ground,' Newman said crisply. 'Paula, fetch Butler and Nield from behind the ridge.' He looked at the driver as she rushed off. 'Get ready to be pushed by hand. Can't risk the bandits behind those dunes hearing your engine. Luckily that plane drowned its sound as you came so close…'
Butler and Nield appeared and, with Newman's help, pushed the Opel off the road as Langhorn turned the wheel, across a belt of scrubland and down into the gulley where the other cars were parked. Tweed had followed with Paula and was about to ask again what the position was when Langhorn picked up the phone, which was bleeping. He listened, replied in Danish, called out to Tweed.
`It's Norlin. For you…'
`Message just received from Commander Wilson,' Norlin said tersely. 'Targets are moving inshore. We're on our way.'
Crouched down behind the ridge, Paula served the hot soup out of a large thermos Tweed had hauled out of the back of the Opel. Norlin had handed Tweed a large picnic basket and Paula crooned over its contents when she checked them with a pencil torch.
Besides the large thermos of vegetable soup there were plastic mugs, spoons, knives, plates, a generous supply of rolls, another thermos with coffee, more mugs and plates, paper napkins, and the biggest apple cake she'd ever seen.
Her mouth watering, she insisted on supplying the others, including Marler who lay prone with his Armalite, before she helped herself. Tweed realized they were all ravenous. While they were eating and drinking he borrowed a pair of night glasses from Paula, adjusted the focus, scanned the colony scattered amid the dunes. His mouth tightened.
`I've counted fifteen men patrolling along the beach and they are all armed.'
`Sensible to supply plastic cutlery,' Pala remarked to lighten the atmosphere. 'No danger of clinking cutlery made of metal.'
`Which is why Norlin supplied them,' Tweed whispered back. 'He doesn't miss a trick. Everyone feeling a bit better?'
Heads nodded. 'Then I'll give you the news which was just passed to me by Norlin. Two Stealth ships, one a big job, are now on the move – heading for this very point on the coast, I'm sure. Tug Wilson, whom I know, is commander of the frigate Minotaur, which is shadowing them. He's keeping in close touch with me. And now you've all finished your meal you've got to put these on – Norlin said he'd prefer not to gun down any of us.'
From a canvas bag he'd carried from the Opel he produced seven Balaclava helmets – a smaller one for Paula. He also showed them a collection of wide elasticized armbands.
`You all wear these as additional recognition – one on each arm. Put them on now.'
When Paula had slipped a helmet over her head, adjusted it so her mouth and eyes were level with the openings, Tweed slid a green fluorescent band up over each of her forearms. He had just donned his own gear when he remembered his next priority.
`Back in a minute. Have to check something with base…'
Crouching low, he ran back to the Opel. Langhorn was just getting out, stopped when he saw Tweed, opened the front passenger door.
`I have to contact Erik urgently,' Tweed said.
`First, I was coming to tell you. Another message from Wilson. The two ships he's shadowing are less than ten miles off shore and moving in fast.'
`Thank you.' Tweed checked his watch. 2 am. 'Now get me Erik…'
`Erik,' Tweed began, after giving the code-word, 'can you hear me clearly? Good. I expect soon to be giving you the signal to make those three phone calls.'
`Standing by, Mr Tweed. A fresh message from Wilson – the targets are five miles off shore and moving very fast.' `Then I'll be calling you again very soon…'
Aboard the Minotaur Commander Tug Wilson, a stocky figure with ice-blue eyes and his cap rammed carelessly over his dark hair, stood in the communications room. He was staring at the screen on Gaston Delvaux's device. Two blips stood out clearly.
`Amazing,' he commented gruffly to the operator. `Uncanny, sir,' the junior officer agreed. 'Look at our own screen.'
Wilson glanced at the other screen. Blank. Not a trace of a vessel within miles.
`How far off shore now?' he rapped out.
`Four miles at the moment. They're still moving in fast.' `Keep me informed minute by minute.'
Wilson returned to the bridge. Dense fog everywhere. A curl of mist rolled over the prow. This wasn't going to lift. Confrontation was imminent. He gave the order.
`Missile section. Action stations. I may press the button at any minute. Aim for larger target…'
Tweed ran back from the Opel, flopped between Newman and Marler behind the ridge. Marler was squinting through his night scope, following a man patrolling the beach and holding an automatic weapon.
`Our friends – with Norlin in command – will arrive at any moment. Don't let them startle you. Any idea of how they'll proceed down there?'
`Yes,' Newman said briskly but quietly. 'They've been practising launching those dinghies lined up by the sea on the beach. They're going out to meet the Stealth ships when they arrive. Obviously the Stealth vessels will have to unload their passengers into those dinghies well off shore. I say we go after one of the last of the dinghies to be launched, grab it, get in amongst them.'
'An excellent tactic…'
Despite Tweed's warning, Newman nearly jumped out of his skin as the voice spoke quietly behind him. He was swivelling his Smith amp; Wesson when Tweed's hand clamped down on his wrist. He had recognized Anton Norlin's voice.
Slowly they all turned round. Paula suppressed a gasp. She couldn't count the number of menacing figures which had crept up, unheard, behind them. All wearing Balaclavas and a neutral-coloured one-piece uniform which merged with the background.
51
`Erik… Landslide! Landslide! Landslide…'
`Roger.'
Satisfied that his message had got through, Tweed ran back from the Opel to the ridge where rows of men lay prone on the ground. Again he flopped between Newman and Marler. Norlin was still holding a restraining hand on Newman's shoulder.