«What about the other routes?»
«I think we would do well to rule out both Red and Gold,» said Goron. «They both run through the same province as Green, and I would recommend against going anywhere near it at the moment. We have a reliable report that two Russland rifle divisions have moved into the province.»
Two rifle divisions was enough to comb the province town by town and practically house by house. It meant somebody fairly high up in the Red Flame command was giving the orders.
It also meant two fewer rifle divisions the Eighth Army would be facing on the Gallic front. Fine. But that would not be much help to Blade and Rilla if they were caught, tortured, and shot while trying to make their way through those two divisions!
«All right. We'll cancel Red and Gold too. That leaves only Purple. Is it your recommendation?»
«Yes. We have also had to develop a new variation for Route Purple. This has not been transmitted to Englor, so you would not know of it.»
«When will I learn it?» said Blade.
«You and Rilla will still make your rendezvous with the escort at one of three established pickups-either nineteen, twenty-two, or twenty-nine. Twenty-two is prime, the others are backups. You will be briefed on Route Purple Two when you have met your escort.»
«I see,» said Blade. The local underground was imposing its own more rigorous standards of security. There would be mutterings in Englor when word of this got back there. But the local people were in the right. They knew better what were the dangers and what were the necessary precautions. A route that Special Operations HQ did not know was a route that no spy there could expose. A route that Blade himself did not know was a route he could not reveal under torture.
Of course this could make things awkward for Blade and Rilla. If they missed all three of the pickup points, they would have no way of learning how to get to the new extraction point at the far end of Route Purple Two. On the other hand, if all three pickup points were out, it would almost certainly mean the Red Flames had moved in. There would be no Route Purple left. Then the most likely route out of Rodzmania for Blade and Rilla would be through the poison capsules Blade carried in his pack.
«All right,» said Blade. It wasn't completely satisfactory, but then people who liked completely satisfactory solutions didn't often go into espionage work. «We'll use Route Purple Two.»
Chapter 13
Richard Blade lay on his stomach under a bush. He wore Russland Ground Forces camouflage battledress with the insignia of a Senior Sergeant in the Security Forces. He carried a Degorov automatic pistol in an imitation-leather shoulder holster. In fact, everything on his body was standard Russland issue. No one looking at him would be able to tell that he was not what he seemed.
The only unusual item of equipment was the pair of binoculars Blade held to his eyes. They were a compact pair, magnifying six times and including a range finder and an infrared attachment. They were rather more sophisticated than anything the Red Flames had. Anyone examining them closely would quickly realize that Blade was certainly not what he seemed.
Nobody was likely to try to make that close examination. Here in Rodzmania, even a private of the Russland Security Forces was a figure to inspire terror or at least discourage casual curiosity. Even senior officers of the Security Administration frequently carried out important missions disguised as junior officers, civil servants, or NCOs. Not even regular Russland military personnel were likely to ask embarrassing questions of men in Security insignia.
So Blade was confident of his chances of moving around freely and safely. Of course he might meet some real Security troops. That was always possible in any land where the Red Flames ruled. But the nearest large Security bases were on the Russland border sixty miles away in one direction, and in the town of Karbo ninety miles away in another. Here in the resort country it would be very bad luck to meet anything more formidable than Ground Forces men on leave or local Rodzmanian constables, who would not be willing to have anything at all to do with any Russlander if they could possibly help it.
There was one other danger. A Security man wandering around alone might be a tempting victim for someone who hated the Russlanders beyond reason. The Red Flames had ruled in Rodzmania for more than a generation, and in that time they had given literally hundreds of thousands of people cause to hate them with a terrible passion. The Russlanders took terrible vengeance for any attacks on their men, but there were certain to be people careless of possible consequences. It would be ironic for Blade to be picked off by some demented Rodzmanian patriot, but it would be just as final as any other death.
Blade found a stone digging into his ribs. He shifted position, pried it loose, pushed it to one side, then went back to watching the lakeshore in front of him.
He would not have needed the binoculars merely to watch for Rilla Haran. If she came today, she would come down to the little gravel beach just below the wooded bluff where Blade lay in hiding. He wanted to make sure that no one else was coming along with Rilla. The geneticist's habit of coming down to this secluded cove to swim and sunbathe was well known. It was unlikely that anyone would suddenly become curious or suspicious about it, but Blade was taking no chances.
He stared out from under the bush at the green forests, the silver blue water of the lake, and the grayish white gravel on the beach. They stared back at him. The water rippled and the branches swayed under a gentle breeze. Nothing else moved in the water, on the land, or in the air above them.
The sun crept up in the sky and grew warm. It might have become uncomfortably hot and airless in the close-grown forest where Blade lay hidden. Fortunately, enough of the breeze off the lake trickled in under the bushes to make Blade's wait almost comfortable.
Blade's journey to the lake had been simple enough, since he was disguised as one of the crew of a big logging truck. At least it would have seemed simple to the average man. Blade knew how much organization and planning had gone into making his journey so simple. He also knew far too well how much danger there had been at each moment of the two days-danger to himself, but even more danger to all those in the underground who had done their work so well.
Suppose his forged identity papers hadn't stood up to inspection? Suppose some Russlander had decided to scan the truck's load, log by log, with a metal detector? Blade's gear and far too much else that was fatally compromising lay concealed snugly inside a hollow log at the bottom of the load. Of course a bomb also lay there, powerful enough to clear half a city block if incautious hands started working on the log. Blade knew there was much to be said for a quick death, especially when one considered what the Red Flames might do otherwise. There was even more to be said for a long life. It had been a relief to reach the end of the journey, climb down from the truck, pull on his gear, and vanish into the woods for the last leg of his journey.
Now he was here, waiting for his first rendezvous with Rilla Haran. She did not know when he would be meeting her, but she did know where and she did know a basic recognition code. That was all the underground had been able to get to her at the resort, but it should be enough for today. They could talk for however long it took to arrange the details of the next rendezvous, when Rilla would slip out of her cottage by night to meet Blade in the forest. After that would come the journey to one of the pickup points for Route Purple Two, the journey along that route, and at last the trip back to Englor.