Taking a pair of wire-framed bifocals from a zipped pocket, the Russian laboriously hooked them to his ears, then peered over the top of them at the screen. Very slowly he raised and lowered his head to take advantage of the different strength lenses in turn. ‘The rust does not make it easy, but it looks like Ivan Rogov.’
‘He’s got it wrong, must have.’ Cline had failed to find the ship listed, even on the stapled update page he’d added shortly before leaving Bremen. ‘We sent that tub to the bottom four months ago. I saw it on the newsreels.’
‘I saw that footage too, she took half a dozen hits off Copenhagen, very spectacular, but unless we’re about to revise our disbelief in ghosts, that is the Rogov.’ Revell could see the bow wave and white water created by the ship’s passage was diminishing. ‘Alright, Boris, get back to your station. Pick up what you can. I want to know what the hell that battered scow is doing here.’
At three miles, the ship stopped in the water and dropped anchor. There was a plume of mixed spray and broken ice as the chain-towing metal struck a floe. Several areas of the vessel had a patched and repaired appearance, as if the work done on her had been finished in a hurry. Large sections were painted only in primer.
‘What the hell is an LPD doing in these parts? Landing platform docks carry a battalion of marines and forty tanks or trucks. Why the hell would they be stopping here? This is the wrong place to start an invasion of Sweden.’
Try this for an answer, Major.’ Reading the strip as it came from the printer, York hesitated before tearing it off and handing it over to the officer. ‘I don’t think you’re going to like it.’
‘Has Sweden declared on Russia’s side?’
‘Not yet, Bombardier, not yet.’ Reading and re-reading the signal didn’t alter its text, Revell did it to savour the irony. All the care that NATO Command had put into choosing this island, this rather than any other. ‘No, they haven’t gone through the charade of signing a ‘communal defence pact’, but as far as we’re concerned they might just as well have done. The Swedes have agreed to the Russians setting up a monitoring and tracking station on their west coast. They’ve said they can have the use of an island; guess which one?’
‘Shit, the bastards have got him.’ The lieutenant’s body was stiff as a board and frozen to the ground. Dooley had to use a lot of force to turn it over.
‘No, it weren’t them.’ Hyde put his gloved hand on Hogg’s face, and felt his fingers slide across the smooth mask of iced blood that encased the lower half of his features. ‘He stayed still for too long, you can’t afford to do that out here.’ Picking up a handful of the loose snow he covered the lieutenant’s face, then prised the Colt commando sub-machine gun from his locked grasp, and pushed it into a drift at the base of a clump of birch.
‘Come on, there’s still work to be done.’ Hyde had to shove Dooley, who was mesmerised by the corpse.
‘Jesus, what a way to go.’ He began to move as Hyde -prodded him forward. ‘I heard of blokes choking on their own blood after getting their schnozzles bust in a fight, but I ain’t never seen nothing like that.’
‘Ah don’t know all the ways there are to die in a war, yet,’ Ripper was keeping pace alongside Andrea, but had given up trying to start a conversation with her, irritable with the smirks Dooley gave him at each rebuff. ‘But we had a couple of feuds going in my valley, and the ideas some of those guys tried on each other, you just wouldn’t believe it. There was this good ol’ boy, a Jenkins I think, he made for the can after a longish session in the back room. He sure must have had a few beers inside him ‘cause he was in a heck of a hurry, and he weren’t looking what he were doing. And he sure should have been, on account of the fact he’d got in a lucky shot the week before and peppered Granddaddy Jepson with better than a couple a hundred pieces of buckshot. Anyhow, this good ol’ boy makes it to the can, whips out his peashooter and starts a-hosing fit to bust. Only trouble is some guy had emptied the bucket and put a chunk of sodium in it. You know what happens when sodium and water mix, well it must have been a big chunk, and I reckon it reacted much the same to a dousing in processed beer. They found the roof of the shed in the next county, and the preacher’s cat were seen chewing on what looked mighty like a charcoal grilled peashooter. Mangy brute swallowed it when he saw he were about to lose it, so we never knew for sure. That was the only part of the good ol’ boy that were ever seen again.’
‘Touching, not to say unbelievable.’ Leading the group into a shallow depression close to the ruins of an outer wall, Hyde gestured the need for silence.’ We could sit here all night, trying to figure where all four of them are. My bet is they’re in the tower. We’ll work on that assumption. I want minimum casualties, minimum noise. Better still, none of either.’
‘There is only the one way in, and the door looks thick and heavy.’ The bayonet that Andrea was fitting to her rifle was burnished to a mirror finish, in imitation of Dooley’s. ‘A grenade would be a more certain way of opening it, or do you think they will be kind and let us in if we knock politely and say please?’
‘That door is thick and heavy and old, very old. Whatever rusted fastening is holding it, I’m gambling our human battering-ram here is stronger.’
Andrea looked as if she might argue with the sergeant, but she didn’t, and returned the high explosive grenade to the pouch on her belt.
‘Let’s go.’ Hyde stood up and started forward. ‘Fan out until we reach the arch, then we take it at the run. You’ll lead, Dooley.’
‘Gee, thanks, Sarge. I’m the biggest target.’
‘You’re the biggest shield as well.’ Ripper would have added more, but Hyde had heard the whisper, and silenced any follow-up with a growl that brought no movement to his dead face.
Making no sound, they moved towards the tower that stood jagged-topped above the remains of walls about its base. Here and there a portion of carved stonework survived, jutting from frost-sintered masonry. A few large blocks, fallen from long-vanished vaulted roofs, littered the ground and turned the tracks the four left behind them into a pattern of weaving gash-like depressions.
Dooley checked the others were with him, before stepping through the arch immediately before the door. He was almost close enough to reach out and touch the weather-pitted, iron-bound planks, was gathering himself for a shoulder-charge, when it swung open.
A spectrum of expressions flickered over the face of the middle-aged man who opened the door. Fear was instantly changed to surprise that was fast transformed into a broad smile which a hand extended to endorse, then those were swept away as he caught sight of the NATO weapons the group carried, and fear blended with anger returned as he attempted to slam the door and began to shout a warning.
Deciding the same tactics could still be of service, Dooley made his shoulder-charge, crashing into the retreating man and going down with him as he stumbled backwards.
Two oil-lamps lit the bare walled ground floor room, and by their light, Ripper, last of the four to enter, saw’ that it was already over. Dooley was disentangling himself from a weakly struggling figure on the paved floor, Andrea was threatening a bearded man seated at a radio, who was not being swift enough in raising his hands, and Sergeant Hyde was covering a surly young blond male who had been trying to reach a powerful hunting rifle propped against a wall.
Keyed up, feeling cheated at not having taken part in the real action, Ripper reacted without thinking when he heard a noise in the doorway behind him. Whirling round, he lunged with his bayonet at the large figure turning to run, saw the long blade plunge in through the silky fabric of a yellow ski-suit, and felt it part and slice into the flesh beneath. Instantly, his rifle was dragged down, almost from his hands, as the victim slowly collapsed without uttering a sound.