“Sure? I don’t like it, Gorsak. I’d much rather take a chance on getting through the wire somewhere well away from a town or a station.”
Gorsak shrugged. “Certainly — if you wish to die! For myself, I do not. That wire is heavily guarded, very heavily guarded with men and guns and dogs, and many searchlights sweep it continually from the watch-towers — continually and to a great depth of cleared ground on either side. I assure you, there is not one chance.” He stared at Shaw and added ominously, “I would not be anxious to take part in such an attempt.”
“Yes, but this is madness, sheer goddam lunacy.”
“Listen.” Gorsak leaned forward, stubbing a thick finger at Shaw. “I know — you do not know. I have never said it will be easy. But it is the only way. I got you through Carovác, yet you did not believe that I could do that. You must take my word that I can succeed again — or I shall not help you.”
Shaw’s teeth came together, hard. Then he said, “All right, Gorsak. But there’s one hell of a lot of snags your way, you know.” He hesitated. “Suppose both lavatories are full at the time? Suppose the cubicle in the women’s side is occupied when I drop through?”
Gorsak grinned. “Excellent! The woman will cry out, the Russian guard will come in for you to deal with him — and there you are!” He made a stabbing movement with his knife. “Nothing could be better.”
“That’s all very well,” Shaw objected. “If the whole place is full of women, I’ll never get away with it. And what if I’m seen coming out of the women’s lavatory?”
Gorsak said, “Always a man needs luck when doing something that is dangerous. Luck we shall have, you and I. We shall succeed, but we must go carefully and await the right moment. That is the point. Always there is a right moment. This time I believe it will come just before the express is due to pull out, when the guards are more relaxed, more bored, more thoughtful of going off duty — and the bladders of the passengers already emptied. There will be plenty of time, you understand, and we must judge our movements prudently.”
Shaw grunted. “Well, let’s suppose I do get away with it. I just walk along the platform and go aboard the train?”
“That is right. You take your place with those whose papers have been checked.”
“Uh-huh. And suppose there’s a snap check on the train?” Shaw asked sardonically. “My passport’s stamped for the Uzhgorod region, which means I’ve got to be a long way from the frontier before I can survive a check. And what happens when they find the guards — the ones we’ve dealt with, by which of course you mean the ones we’ve killed?”
“Yes, that is what I mean. They will not find them until the train has pulled out, friend. I promise you I shall begin a diversion to ensure that. When they do find them, then they will have the train checked again at the next stopping-point, and all the passengers will be held — but you will no longer be aboard, which is why you need not worry about a snap check either. Approximately one hour out of Khamchevko, the train will enter its first tunnel, a very long one which runs beneath the Carpathians. For some way before the tunnel, the train runs up an incline, and just before entering the tunnel this incline becomes steeper, and the train slows almost to a stop. When it slows, you will get down on to the track. You should be able to do this very easily, for the train is never so full that a man cannot be alone in a corridor for quite long enough. After that it is up to you — but I would advise you to continue through the tunnel itself and make for the rail-town of Petroslav and there get on another train for Moscow. I have here a map, which you must study and impress upon your mind.” As he reached into his pocket he added, smiling, “It sounds hard, friend. It is very easy! Whatever I said earlier, it is easy…”
“Oh, sure it is, like falling off a log.” Suddenly, Shaw laughed. “It has its attractions, I admit. Into Russia by the lavatory wall…”
They pressed on, rattling and banging and clanking across Hungary, Gelda sharing the driving with Gorsak. Gorsak was firm in not allowing Shaw to drive — he must, the Hungarian said, rest all he could and later on he would be glad of it. They skirted Budapest, made across country for Hatvan and Gyöngyös, nearing the frontier. At times Gorsak sang in a deep bass voice, songs of old Hungary before the days of communism, and now and then Gelda joined in with him, though she didn’t know the words of many of the songs that Gorsak sang so nostalgically. She was plainly very much in love with Gorsak despite a big difference in their ages, and there was, Shaw found, something attractive in the man’s personality; no doubt the girl responded to that. And there was no doubt about his guts. Shaw had begun to like this man who was risking so much to help him and the West and once, while Gelda was asleep in the back and he was sitting alongside Gorsak in front, he asked him tentatively how his country was managing under the communists.
Gorsak stared moodily ahead for a while, concentrating on the road, and then he said morosely, “Ah, the communists.” He gathered spit in his mouth and ejected it viciously onto the floor of the bus. “Me, I always hated them, even before the Rising. There are many, very many, in Hungary who hate them too. We shall never forget the Rising. How can you forget that? Friend, they killed my little son.” His voice was harsh, grating, coldly savage now. “I saw him, my little son — spitted like a sucking pig on the bayonets. I was powerless to help. They held him on the bayonets over a fire… mercifully, he died quickly. And he was only three, friend. As for my other children and my wife, I do not know to this day what happened to them. Shall I tell you something else, friend?”
“Go on, Gorsak.”
“It was my brother-in-law who told them where my family was. And my wife, friend, was blood of his blood, flesh of his flesh! Can you begin to understand? My brother-in-law did not know I knew, you see, and I waited my time. As I said earlier — there is always a right moment for everything if you wait for it. Do you understand now?”
“Yes,” Shaw said quietly. “I understand now, Gorsak. I’m sorry.”
Gorsak gave a harsh, humourless laugh. “Do not be sorry. That is over now — the agony. Gorsak must be constructive. Gorsak puts it out of his mind and concentrates on the fight itself, the fight against the communists. But every now and then he remembers, and whenever he begins to think that after all, perhaps, a soft and easy life would be better for him in his later years, he hardens his heart again.”
“That’s natural. But why don’t you leave Hungary? You say you’re often in Austria. Why not stay there?”
“Because I can fight communism more effectively from inside. They do not know my feelings, you see. As far as they are concerned, I believe their story, expressed to me with much sympathy, that it was the mobs of Imre Nagy who killed my family. I work along with them — and I fight them. You know what I mean. Some Russian soldiers die in an ambush, some Party members are blown up when crossing a bridge. I and my friends have always got away so far. Gorsak is lucky. Always Gorsak is lucky.”
“For heaven’s sake,” Shaw said, “don’t say that just yet!”
Gorsak gave his booming laugh and reached out to put a hairy arm round Shaw’s shoulders. “We are going to succeed. I feel it in my bones.”
“You’re risking your life for me, Gorsak. Why do you do that?”
Gorsak shook his head. “Not for you. Against the communists. That is what urges me — the harm I can do them. I am quite ready to die for my work, and I have an idea that your journey is of much importance, though I do not know what it is and neither do I ask.”