‘I would like the chance to fire on such numbers.’ Andrea hugged her M16 across her chest.
‘Killing them one by one will take so long.’ She looked pointedly at Boris, but he studiously avoided her eye.
He didn’t catch all her words, but Revell could tell by her tone and expression that Andrea was talking about killing. Only rarely did she join in conversation, and then almost invariably on that subject. That alone should have made it easy for him to draw her on the subject of Inga.
After the circle of Russian armour around Hamburg had been broken he’d gone back into the city to search for her. All he’d found was her apartment block a blazing inferno and no sign of Inga. Those other residents he’d been able to find had told him little; shots had been heard, and a dark haired girl had been seen leaving shortly before the fire had broken out in Inga’s rooms.
In a moment he could have set his mind at rest, or had his worst suspicions confirmed by asking Andrea what she knew, but either answer was too frightening to contemplate. One would have left him filled with doubt, the other would have tortured and torn his mind. And so he didn’t ask, and instead of the single conflict that would have gnawed at his brain he was left with elements of both chasing through his thoughts and twisting and warping them until he didn’t know what question to ask, what answer to hope for.
‘We are behind them again.’ On an infra-red scan of the road ahead Boris had detected very faint, but positive, traces that revealed a vehicle had passed this way before them. ‘They have had the advantage of the delay of our detour. I would say they are at least an hour ahead of us, perhaps little more.’
‘And there are no more short cuts for a while,’ Burke eased back on the speed as he sensed a vibration setting in at maximum revs, ‘all we can do is hang on to their tails.’
‘So why don’t we give up now. Whatever they’re in it’s obviously got the legs on this old rattle-trap.’ Thorne could see little save the blur of passing foliage through his own periscope, and was unsuccessful in persuading Dooley to surrender his place at a better sited vision device. ‘Those civvies will be sitting down for a cosy vodka with a brace of commissars and a reporter from TASS while we’re still frolicking about a couple of hours in their wake. Let’s turn back and find a bit of fighting, somewhere I can find the chance to use this properly.’ He slapped the flamethrower’s tanks.
‘We go on, catch them even if it means we have to burst in on such a pleasant gathering.’ For a while Revell had been watching the condition of the surface of the road they were travelling. It was deteriorating rapidly. Long sections had been broken by frost. In places the edges had crumbled away and the further they went the greater became the profusion of storm-shattered branches littering it, and severed telephone wires and power cables draping it.
‘These roads haven’t seen traffic in a year or more, and the blizzards last winter look to have brought down a lot of stuff. Sooner or later those civvies are going to run into a blockage they can’t drive through or around. Either that or they’ll have to slow so often for lots of minor obstacles that we’ll catch up to them that way. Whatever, we keep going.’
Of course they’d keep going. Hyde had known what the officer was going to say. They always kept going, even when it didn’t make any sort of sense, unless…
There was a loud clattering as hard fragments pummelled and sounded like they were threatening to penetrate the hull overhang. The left track was shedding the last of its ride cushioning, track-life prolonging rubber inserts. Even if it lasted long enough to take them all the way to the Russian lines, as they might have to, there was no chance it would bring them all the way back.
CHEMICAL AND BIOLOGICAL WEAPONS OF ALL TYPES WILL BE TREATED SIMPLY AS ANOTHER MUNITION AVAILABLE TO THE ARMY COMMANDER IN THE FIELD. IF CIRCUMSTANCES WARRANT IT, AND CONDITIONS ARE SUITABLE, TOXINS, NERVE GASSES, BLISTERING AND BLOOD AGENTS, BACTERIAL AND VIRAL WEAPONS WILL BE USED.
IT SHOULD BE KEPT IN MIND THAT THE THREAT OR FEAR OF THE USE OF THESE WEAPONS CAN OFTEN SERVE AS EFFECTIVELY AS THEIR ACTUAL EMPLOYMENT. THE OSTENTATIOUS MOVEMENT OF CHEMICAL TROOPS INTO FORWARD AREAS, THE CONSTRUCTION OF DUMMY HANDLING FACILITIES AND DUMPS; ALL THOSE WILL HELP TO FEED FALSE INTELLIGENCE INFORMATION TO THE ENEMY AND ENCOURAGE THE INCORRECT INTERPRETATION OF THAT HE ALREADY HAS. THE SKILLFUL COMMANDER WILL NOT NEGLECT THE USE OF AGENTS AND SYMPATHIZERS TO SPREAD ALARM AMONG THE CIVILIAN POPULATION BEHIND THE ENEMIES LINES, AND EVEN AMONG HIS BATTLE FORMATIONS.
SUCH MEASURES WILL FORCE THE ENEMY TO DEGRADE HIS FIGHTING ABILITY BY TAKING ALL PRECAUTIONS, WHILE LEAVING OUR OWN TROOPS FREE OF ANY SUCH CONSTRAINTS.
SIX
The tree had brought down telephone lines, and the thick tangle of wires combined with the jutting splintered timber to form a barrier the Range Rover could not bulldoze its way through.
‘That’s it, give it a good swing.’ Having deliberately given the woman the axe, Gross watched her heavy breasts jiggling against each other as they threatened to pop from the restraints of her brassiere.
‘Stuff it, you pervert, that’s the only tool you’ll ever be any good with.’ Trying with a lop-sided drooling grin to conceal his annoyance, Gross set to work with the wire cutters, but he felt the colour rising to his cheeks all the same. He’d get his own back for that, he’d find a way. Maybe he’d catch her bending, and shove his cock up her big bum, just to hear her beg him to stop, or at least use Vaseline. Or perhaps he’d thrust it into her mouth, in and out, in and out, and have her milk him till she choked on the squirting product of his massive orgasm. Oh he knew he could do lots with her that way, gallons and gallons…
Father Venables hovered about the front of the Rover, at times looking as if he might take up a spare implement and assist, but then his fluttering hand movements would cease and he’d clasp them behind his back and once more content himself with just making noises of encouragement, and occasional half gestures of applause for their efforts as gradually the obstruction was chopped out and pushed aside.
Only Professor Edwards remained in the vehicle. From a green plastic Harrods carrier bag he took a flask and carefully poured a cup of beef soup. A crinkled parcel of aluminium foil he unwrapped to remove a buttered water biscuit, carefully rewrapping and stowing the remaining four back in the bag.
‘How nice, oh how very nice.’ Gross stuck his head in through the rear window and his sweat dripped onto the seat. ‘Am I invited, or is this a private picnic?’
‘This is just to keep my strength up. Of course I would help you all if I could, but I have this condition…’
‘Such a pity.’
‘I do not feel you are offering genuine sympathy, but if I should have misinterpreted your tone, then thank you. It is nothing too serious you understand, but my specialist has told me I must take care, not indulge in undue exertion. And so you see, much as I would love to assist…’