‘And to you, Captain Lindrath. Thank you for all you’ve done.’
The two men shook hands and then Lindrath turned away. Without a backward glance he marched off for’ard, stiff and straight, towards the superstructure. A moment later he had disappeared through the door in the after screen, an old man who had seen sense in time and made recompense for past errors by doing all he could for humanity.
Shaw wasted no more time after that.
He ran lightly back with the sentry’s gun until he was above Patricia’s cabin, where he banged twice on the deck with the butt of the weapon. Then he climbed over the rail and crouched above her port, calling down softly when he saw her head appear.
‘Fast as you can!’ he whispered urgently. ‘We may not have long before someone snoops aft for a look-see. Turn on your back and reach out as far as you can. When I grab you — shove with your feet and don’t worry.’
She did as she was told, and he reached down and got a grip quickly on her wrists, hooking a leg around a stanchion for his own grip. ‘Now!’ he said, and pulled. He felt her give a thrust with her feet and in a moment she was able to get her own hold on the guardrail. Shaw bent and got his hands beneath her shoulders then, and hoisted her up until she was standing by the rail.
‘Good girl!’ he said. ‘Now — over.’
A moment later they were both standing on the deck. Once the girl had got her breath he told her to keep close behind him all the time and keep dead quiet. Turning for’ard, they went fast along the deck until they came to the catwalk, which ran beside the landing-platform. The noise of the helicopter was high now. She was ready for take-off, her rotors idling and her lights on. One man, just visible in the cabin light and the blue glow from the open hatch-cover, was standing by the door chatting to the pilot. Waiting for Lindrath.
No one had seen Shaw or the girl yet.
Shaw went forward, still in his socks, and thrust the sentry’s gun savagely into the man’s backbone. He snapped in his ear, ‘Get in!’
With a gasp the man swung round, eyes staring wildly. Shaw said in German, ‘If you don’t get in at once, I’ll leave you here. Only you’ll be stone-cold dead. It’s your choice. I’ll count five…’
By the time he had got to three the man was scrambling in. He tried, as he got in, to close the door behind him but Shaw jammed his gun-muzzle into the gap and then, getting his shoulder against it, flung it open. He jumped in, scrambled up, aimed his gun at the pilot’s stomach. As Patricia jumped up, the other man came for her. Still keeping the automatic on the pilot, he swung a left at the man and caught him on the side of the face. The German lost his balance, and Shaw, moving backward slightly, covered him with his gun. Reaching out, he slammed the door shut and snapped in German, ‘You, get up there with the pilot. Just don’t try anything, that’s all. I’ll fire at the first move. That’s fair warning. Now take her up,’ he added to the pilot. ‘Take her up or I’ll split you in half, chum!’
It worked like a charm. Just for a brief space the pilot stared back at him, and he jerked the gun viciously. The pilot took the hint and obeyed, his face green with fear. He manipulated his controls and the machine rose slowly. As they lifted above the tall masts and the clustered antennae, the fun started up below them — sooner than Shaw had expected. A searchlight beamed upward, caught the helicopter, held it in its glare and blinded the occupants. Shots came up from automatics, but harmlessly. Shaw could hear them spattering on the bodywork, their force spent though the aim was true. Someone had evidently found that sentry, or at least had noticed that he was missing from his beat. After that, a quick check would have been carried out on the cabins.
They’d made it only just in time.
Shaw, uncertain as to whether or not the Moehne could open up with heavier close-range weapons, snapped, ‘Take her up — fast!’
The pilot did so. Shaw was right behind him now, the gun held steadily to cover both men. Very soon they were well out of range of anything likely to fire at them, and of course there could be no pursuit. Clear and away, they headed north to Shaw’s orders; and the Moehne, visible now as no more than a searchlight beam probing uselessly around the heavy, storm-filled sky, was soon out of sight behind.
Fleck was quickly on deck when he heard the racket. His face livid, he stood and watched impotently as the helicopter vanished into the night, heading north and away. His nails digging into the flesh of his palms, he swore viciously at the Moehne’s gunners and at Captain Lindrath, who had joined him at the landing-deck.
Fleck demanded, ‘What happened? The full story, if you please, Captain!’
Lindrath said breathlessly, ‘The man… must have escaped by way of the port! He came for us when I was speaking to the sentry, and—’
He was interrupted by a stream of violent abuse. Then, not waiting for the rest of the story, which was plain enough in any case, Fleck turned on his heel and left the deck. Going quickly below he ran along to the radio office, where he hectored the operator on watch. He snapped, ‘You will send two messages at once. The first is to the Casa Pluma and the second is to the Chief of Police in Rio Grande. You are ready?’
‘I am ready, Herr Fleck.’
As Fleck scribbled rapidly on a sheet of paper, the operator’s fingers reached out to the morse key and he began tapping out the call-sign of the Casa Pluma undercover station.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Shaw’s face was showing his anxiety. He certainly hadn’t reckoned on Lindrath and the sentry being found so soon. And yet, they hadn’t much farther to go now. Only into Rio Grande and a telephone-line — and then the airfield and the plane north. He would just have to keep his eyes skinned in Rio Grande and be ready for anything that might happen; he already knew from Nosey that a watch had been put on Santos, but he had no alternative but to go to the Vice-consul rather than risk complications with the local police. Meanwhile he ordered the pilot to fly directly into Rio Grande rather than to the valley where he had gone with Nosey, so as to cut to a minimum the time available for Fleck to get things moving. On his side, too, time was short and every minute saved was precious.…
Patricia, sitting close to him in the tiny cabin of the helicopter, asked, ‘What are you going to do with those two?’ She nodded towards the crew.
Shaw said, ‘Take them along with us. May be useful. They can help to substantiate the story I’ve got to put across!’ He was silent for a while as the machine flew on into the night. Patricia was very near; he could feel the warmth of her body against his, could smell her faintly lingering scent… after a time he said in a low voice, ‘By the way… I never had a chance of asking Fleck or Schillenhorst about Rosemary Houston.’
She said soberly, ‘He told me all about that, Fleck did. It was her all right, in that dock.’ She said no more for a moment, thinking her own thoughts. Then she went on, ‘While she was in Russia, it seems she got on to this thing through a German Communist who’d gone to Russia from the Eastern sector of Berlin. She made her way through Poland and East Germany to Hamburg to confirm this man’s story, and Gottlieb Hauser’s mobsters got her before she could pass anything on. They knew about her because by this time they’d caught up with the Communist and made him talk before they killed him. They made out they were taking her aboard the floating dock to — to rape her, and no one interfered. They meant to kill her aboard the dock and dump her in the sea when they were well clear of land, where she wouldn’t… drift back.’ She added dully, ‘I wonder they didn’t… dispose of the evidence before they abandoned the dock.’