Chapter 4
“Jacko,” Bradley hissed into Jacko’s ear, his hand close to the sleeping soldier’s mouth, ready to clamp it shut should he shout out or make the slightest noise. Jacko’s eyes opened and he was immediately alert, sensing the urgency in Bradley’s voice.
“What is it?”
“Listen.”
They both kept silent and still, the sudden sound of a dog barking in the distance.
“It’s just a dog,” Jacko hissed back.
Then there was a second bark, deeper, followed by a third.
“Shit.”
“We need to bug out, and quickly. Pack your stuff and I’ll sort mine and the radio.”
“What about this?” asked Jacko, indicating the camouflaged mesh frame that spanned the space above them, keeping the foliage above at bay.
“Leave it, we don’t have time.”
Two dogs barked again, sounding closer, and Jacko quickly exited his sleeping bag, immediately flattened it and rolled it up, squeezing it into the haversack. Although cramped, they worked speedily side by side. Speed was of the essence, the barking dogs the only motivation they needed.
“How far?”
“Less than a K, I would say. Here in ten,” responded Bradley. “Finish up here; then bring your stuff out. I’m going to take a look around.”
Bradley poked his head outside and looked to the right as the headlights of a truck flickered by on the autobahn, causing him to flinch. He blinked. He had lost a portion of his night vision, but could see enough until it improved again. The Browning pistol dug into his side as he got up, a comfortable feeling, one of security. He pulled it out of the holster clipped to his belt on the left-hand side of his barrack trousers. It was loaded, with a round up the spout and the safety applied. He dragged his Bergen out of the hide, leaving it at the entrance, and then crept along the upper edge of the railway embankment, making his way west until he came to the edge of the Berlin ring road. It was four ten and there was very little traffic on the road. When it was busy, it was usually long convoys of supplies and troops heading west to join their comrades doing battle against NATO. Civilians were rarely seen on the road, confined to their homes no doubt while the East German military machine went about its business.
Bradley peered across the motorway, turning his head slightly so that his right ear could catch any sound that would be a threat to them. Lights flickered through the trees as the enemy played their torches around the area, making sure they didn’t step onto any hazards. They were looking for them; he had no doubts. The noise from the dogs was getting steadily louder. If he had to hazard a guess, he would say there were three tracker dogs on their scent, and he estimated they would be here in less than ten minutes. And to make matters worse, they were on his side of the embankment. They were obviously doing a sweep along the railway line. But why? Were they looking for saboteurs? Or were they looking for him and Jacko? Or were they just plain old Transport Politzei?
His head snapped round as he heard the bark of another dog off to the left. He looked to the front again. It was clear. He raised his body up higher so he could look back along the road to the other side of the bridge that crossed the railway line. He was startled, seeing more lights. Another collection of torch beams stabbed the darkness as a group, probably soldiers along with a couple of dogs, were moving along the edge of the autobahn. Fuck, he thought and immediately dropped back down. They were searching both railway embankments. It was the two of them they were after. They must have found the Range Rover.
He duckwalked back to the hide and pushed his head inside. “We need to go now, Jacko. They’ll be here in minutes. There’s a group practically opposite us.”
“How close?”
“Bloody close. Shift.”
“I’m done.”
Jacko joined him outside, and they both hoisted their packs, considerably lighter now they had used up some of their supplies, Bradley’s being the heaviest with the Clansman radio. Jacko dropped down, pointing to the lights of the soldiers crossing the autobahn on the opposite side of the railway line. They were safe for now, but the soldiers’ friends on this side of the embankment wouldn’t be far away, and the two groups could quickly join up if needed. The two dogs were barking frenetically now, sensing something, urged on by their handlers. They would soon pick up the scent of the two soldiers. Then all hell would break loose.
Bradley grabbed Jacko’s arm and pulled him away from the edge and took the lead, taking them east along the edge of the thicket, the same undergrowth where their hide was secreted. It would no longer be a secret, that was for sure. After fifty metres, they found the gap that they had identified during an earlier reconnaissance, when they were logging all the exit routes they could use should they get bounced. Both passed through it, going north, deeper into the forest and further away from the railway line and the dogs. A dog barked, sounding closer, directly opposite the hide they had just left. They could very well be across the railway line in a matter of minutes. The two groups were converging. Soon the hunt would be on.
Bradley picked up the pace, keeping a northerly direction, Jacko tagging along behind him, stumbling occasionally, his lanky legs getting the better of him. The pace got quicker and quicker, speed more important than caution. Bradley broke into double time, his Bergen jumping slightly on his back, secured when he pulled the straps much tighter, shifting the weight high onto his shoulders. The small compass glowed slightly in his hand as he checked they were on course, turning north-west, keeping the autobahn about 100 metres off their left side. East of them were ploughed fields, a stretch of open ground in the centre of the large forest, an area a kilometre long by 500 metres wide. To cross that, they would expose themselves to their pursuers with nowhere to hide and leave a trail of footprints that the dog handlers could easily follow by torchlight. At least in this direction, they would have some tree cover.
Bradley and Jacko stopped suddenly and looked over their shoulders as they heard a commotion, dogs barking wildly with excitement, soldiers shouting, the disturbance coming from the area of the hide they had just vacated. The dogs’ noses would be twitching and sniffing, their senses working overtime. It wouldn’t take them long to pick up their spoor and start to follow.
“They’ve found our spot, Jacko. Let’s get the hell out of here.”
Bradley sprinted off, continuing north-west, now at a run, tips of branches flicking against his arms as he weaved in and out of the trees, the sound of dogs barking growing louder, spurring him on. The shouts of handlers also increased in volume, keeping the dogs, yanking at their leashes, under control. The group had been joined by more canines, no doubt from the other side of the railway line. Bradley pushed his body hard, knowing the soldiers would be invigorated now they had found the hiding place of the spies they had been searching for, for the past twenty-four hours. The soldiers and the dogs would also be in a flat-out run. Bradley’s only hope was to keep the two of them moving; keep one step ahead of their pursuers.