“Can I help you?” he asked.
“Would you?”
“Right now. Can you come here or shall I…”
“Wait.” That was all.
Then in a flash he saw it — Rostovitch had ordered him to deliver a message. He seized the phone and called Major Barlov. “Colonel Rostovitch has given me an errand to do,” he reported.
“Then attend to it at once.”
“I intend to, major; I wanted to inform you that I will be gone until it’s carried out.”
“Waste no more time.”
God was with him, it couldn’t be anything else. But he could not abandon Barbara. He got into his topcoat in seconds, picked up his briefcase, and looked for her with desperate anxiety. The seconds tortured him until she appeared, actually looking thoroughly ill. He took her arm and led her out, every precious moment the answer to an unspoken prayer.
The cool fresh air of the portico reminded him how sweet it was to live, every step now had in it part of the ingredients of life. The gate was visible ahead of them, if only the phone…
They were passed through with a casual wave of the sentry’s arm; it had never been so simple. By the will of merciful fate there was a cruising cab just pulling in; there were fewer and fewer available each day. Hewlitt had thought first of going to his apartment, but he knew at once that it would be wrong; he gave the address of the safe house — there might be help there. Then he realized that he had to go there anyway since he had Barbara with him.
During the ride she sat close to him, holding his hands and saying nothing. She still kept up the pretense of being ill, so much so that he began to wonder if any part of it was real. If that was the case…
He was losing his grip, and that he could not allow! He took a new hold on himself and once more tried to focus his mind onto a decision as to what he should do next. He had found no definite answer by the time that they reached the house. He helped Barbara out, paid hurriedly, and then guided her carefully inside.
Davy Jones was sitting at the bar talking to someone. There were two glasses and a bottle. A bottle. He remembered and read the warning. “Barbara is sick, Davy,” he said, “can you give me a hand?”
“Of course, Mr. Hewlitt, right now.” As he got up he spoke to his guest. “Sorry.”
“I was just going,” the man said.
With a proper combination of solicitude and respect Davy followed behind Hewlitt as he led Barbara upstairs; he maintained that pose until the front door was shut behind him and he saw that the guest had gone. Then Barbara turned. “I had to get you out,” she said. “You’re blown.”
“Into Barbara’s room — now,” Davy said. “I’ve got orders for you.”
They obeyed him; the moment she was inside Barbara pulled out [342] a suitcase and began to throw things inside with a speed that Hewlitt had to admire; she didn’t waste a motion. He knew better than to offer to help her; she was doing it better alone.
“Percival’s coming,” Davy said. “He’ll be here any moment. Hew — you, Barbara, and Mary are being pulled out right now. We’ve already got the essential stuff from your apartment for you — forget the rest.”
Hewlitt was still trying to think. “I bluffed Rostovitch,” he said, “but it won’t last for long. It may be gone already.” He turned quickly to Barbara. “You are all right, aren’t you?” he asked.
She didn’t even pause to glance at him. “Of course. Slightly pregnant, but that’s nothing at the moment.”
The door opened without a knock and Percival was there. “Are you ready?” he asked.
“Yes,” Hewlitt answered for them both, “but Mary isn’t here.” He remembered that he had only a few dollars in his wallet, but that could not be helped. Barbara snapped her case shut and waved help aside. “Where to?” she asked.
Downstairs the front door opened once more; Davy turned quickly, then relaxed when he heard Mary’s quick steps on the staircase. She was with them seconds later. “Two minutes,” she asked.
“No more,” Percival warned.
Davy went with her as she literally ran to her room.
“Let’s get started,” Percival said.
“The others?” Hewlitt asked.
Percival nodded quickly. “Cedric is all right, so far at least. And the rest. But we’ve got to get you out as fast as possible.” He glanced at his watch, then stood waiting for agonizing seconds to pass by. The house remained quiet, which was all that Hewlitt dared to hope for. After a half minute of eternity Percival started out the door. Barbara followed, carrying her own case; they were halfway down the back staircase when Mary came running after them, followed by Davy who had her case in his hand; apparently they had scooped everything into it in a matter of a few seconds.
When they reached the first floor Percival swung open the door to the basement staircase. Hewlitt remembered then that there was another way out of the safe house and he was desperately grateful for it. He followed Barbara down, being careful not to stumble in the semi-darkness. The feeling of being the hunted was strong in him now, and the urge to flee was fighting for possession of him.
It was victory when his feet touched the floor of the basement, even though he did not know where he was going. As he turned to follow Barbara toward the rear of the building, he heard a sudden noise from upstairs; he analyzed it instinctively and knew that the front door had been flung open. Then he heard a commanding voice and identified it as Major Barlov’s. One glance behind him told him that Davy had shut the cellar door and was more than halfway down the steps with Mary still ahead of him. He gulped in air and resolved to move as swiftly and as silently as he humanly could. It was a matter of seconds now.
Percival barely paused before the door to a small partitioned-off storeroom; it was heavily padlocked with a chain wound around two posts; even with a key it would take precious time to open. As Hewlitt watched, Percival reached to the other side of the door, touched a hidden latch, and swung it open from what had appeared to be the hinged side. Barbara passed quickly through the opening; without thinking Hewlitt stepped aside to let Mary go next. At that moment he heard the door at the top of the basement stairs yanked open and the sound of someone running down the steps.
Hewlitt did what his primitive instincts demanded; he whipped his body around to do battle, and to buy time for Barbara to get away. Then he felt the ramming force of Davy’s hand against his chest pushing him backward. As he yielded, because he could not help it, he saw the face of Major Barlov and knew that they were trapped. He stumbled backward, Davy crowding him hard, and realized that Percival was closing the trick door. For a bare moment Barlov was at the opening, then as the door came shut he heard the words, “Get going, you chaps.”
His brain told him to obey the voice, the voice of Major Barlov. But it had been a different voice, one he had only partially recognized. He lowered his head and passed through an opening protected by a metal door and into some sort of tunnel as Percival thrust him against the side in order to get past. Then the metal door closed behind him. A flashlight beam cut ahead and he could see the two girls, Percival leading them, then a tunnel intersection.
They turned at a right angle to the left and were in some sort of an underground utility passageway; overhead and on the sidewalls there were multiple pipes and conduits. After a short distance Percival halted and pulled open what appeared to be an electrical junction box. From it he quickly took out several compact handguns, passing the first to Barbara and the second to Mary. “Can you shoot?” he asked Hewlitt.
“I’ll learn damn fast.”
Percival handed him a gun. “Keep the safety on,” he directed. “Mary will show you.”
“Can she use a gun?”