Get Lenin (25 page)

Brandt and Hauptmann vaulted into the shattered cockpit and peered below into the lounge area. The radio operator lay where he had landed, blood pooling around him, slipping in and out of consciousness. They moved cautiously down into the lounge where Kincaid stood with Eva in front of him.

A pistol was pointed to her head and her eyes widened in surprise at the sight of Brandt.

Regan had his gun pointed under Zbarsky’s chin, pinning him against the lounge window. He did a double-take at the sight of Brandt and Hauptmann. A loud blast shook the flying boat below followed by silence. Imperceptibly, the floor seemed to shift underfoot. Hauptmann and Brandt exchanged a glance. The flying boat had been hulled and was starting to sink.

‘
Now no-one is going to do anything stupid,’ said Kincaid. He almost seemed to be enjoying himself.

Olga and Kant appeared on the stairs behind him and paused. Kincaid turned, looking back at them. A smile danced across his features. ‘Thought we’d gotten rid of you lot!’ His smile cracked into a high-pitched laugh.

Regan had pulled Zbarsky out of the seat and was using him as a shield. Olga raised her rifle and pointed it toward Regan.

‘
Drop it, bitch!’ hissed Kincaid, pressing his pistol closer into Eva’s head.

Olga’s gaze never left Brandt’s. Kant had positioned himself behind Olga where his hands were out of sight. He’d unsheathed a knife and calculated the throwing distance to Kincaid’s forehead. Brandt shook his head at Olga. Blood was starting to pour down the side of Eva’s face where Kincaid’s barrel had broken the skin. Olga hadn’t lowered her weapon. Her eyes slipped from Brandt’s gaze to the sight at the end of the rifle. Kincaid’s temple was in the cross-hairs as he released his grip on Eva’s throat,

‘
Tell them to call back the boats,’ he whispered into her ear. Her perfume and terror was beginning to arouse him. It was hypnotic. She croaked out the demand. His grip was like a vice and she was taking breaths of air in gulps.

‘
No,’ replied Brandt coolly.

Eva was losing consciousness. She was going to faint under Kincaid’s grip. She slipped a free hand into her pocket, searching for the Luger. Once she found it, she slowly shifted its weight against her hip and pointed the barrel toward Kincaid. Another explosion rocked the flying boat as one of the engines caught fire and the fuel line ignited. Kincaid lost his footing, falling backwards with Eva landing on top of him. She fired the Luger. The bullet tore into Kincaid’s thigh and he shrieked. Eva prised his hand away and dragged herself up, clutching the handle of the aisle seat. Kincaid was trying to shoot but the gun had caught on the leg of the opposite seat frame. Eva staggered up, span and fired again through the coat pocket. Kincaid’s head slammed into the floor from the force of the shot to his chest. Olga swung fractionally and fired. Regan slumped behind Zbarsky who skipped sideways, allowing Olga a clear sight. Without hesitation, she fired again. Regan was catapulted into the seat and sat there, head resting on his chest as if asleep.

Eva wiped the blood from her face. Brandt was over to her, holding her arm gently and examing her injury. She looked at him square, her hair falling over one eye and her breathing beginning to slow down. For a moment they just stared, then Brandt pulled her close and kissed her. Eva pulled back blushing.

‘
Sorry,’ Brandt whispered. ‘Thirty-six hours without sleep,’

She smiled, returning his gaze below her eyebrows. Brandt noted her eyes were mesmerising. She was incredibly beautiful and his lips were tingling with the kiss. With her heart ringing in her ears she pulled him toward her and returned his kiss.

The flying boat was tilting alarmingly and smoke was filling the room. They neither seemed to notice or care. Kant cleared his throat loud enough the kill the moment. ‘Time to go, Captain ...now … ’

Brandt and Eva held each other for a moment longer. They lost their footing as a starboard engine blew, shaking the plane. It separated from the wing housing, sliding elegantly into the ocean. The lounge was filling up with the smell of aviation fuel and smoke.

Hauptmann checked the Radio Operator, Regan and Kincaid. All three were dead.

Kant and Hauptmann moved toward the cockpit helping Zbarsky up and out onto the wing. Brandt and Eva moved next, followed by Olga. Below in the sea, Fletchmore and his commandos waited. They had lost one man and two more were injured. Fletchmore waved with a grin, glad to see the unit appear. The flying boat began to shudder. The hold where Lenin had been loaded was below water and the engines of the behemoth were ablaze.

They were too high to jump into the water and Brandt, Hauptmann and Kant jerry-rigged their lines to lower into the bouncing dinghy below. Eva and Olga were lowered first, Fletchmore gallantly welcoming them. Zbarsky followed, then Brandt held the lines for Hauptmann’s and Kant’s descent before the flying boat's tail section sheared off into the sea. The front of the flying boat pitched forward into the waves, knocking Brandt off-balance.

Regaining his feet, Brandt slid down the rope onto the dinghy as the commando at the tiller gunned the engine. As he looked back, he watched the vast plane engulfed in flames and slipping down into the sea, leaving a thick acrid cloud of smoke to mark its passing.

Kravchenko watched the Liberty Belle’s destruction from the deck of the U-Boat. He was sea-sick on the dinghy and boarded the U-Boat just to get off the thing. They had the conning tower in their sights and two U-Boat crewmen lay injured near it. Kramer had thrown magnetic charges at the hold’s doors and one had been successfully blown a few inches off its hinges.

Jakko Ahtisaans was many things, but he was firstly a practical man. The flying boat was gone and another dinghy was heading toward them. With the hold door damaged, he couldn’t dive and if he was to hit heavy seas, U-806 would sink like a stone. Ahtisaans signalled to everyone to surrender and stood on the conning tower with his hands raised.

Kravchenko climbed the tower and made a gesture with his fingers to his ear indicating a radio headset. Ahtisaans nodded and directed a British commando to the radio room who managed to get through to Chainbridge who was sitting by a large radio receiver in the farmhouse. He instructed them to proceed to the far side of Suomenlinna, where a deep-water dock was being prepared for the submarine.

The remaining dinghies pulled up, and everyone clambered aboard. The injured submariners were treated on the deck by a commando, one of them later dying from his injuries. The dinghies were raised onto the submarine's deck and secured, acting as gurneys for the medic.

Brandt was sitting against the conning tower when Eva had joined him. The sun had broken through, though it looked like it would squall again. The wind was blowing her hair and, despite the cold, the sun gave off a little heat. The side of her face was bruised but her cut had been attended to. With a splitting headache, she rested her head on his shoulder and dozed, finding the pulse of the engines soothing. Brandt put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer; it seemed a most natural thing to do.

The remainder of Brandt’s unit sat or lay napping, except Kravchenko and Zbarsky who were in the hold.

Lenin looked well under glass. Zbarsky scanned him with concern, looking for any deterioration. To his relief, the corpse seemed undamaged from the assault. An assistant had been killed during the battle, and Zbarsky wondered if it had all been worth it. Kravchenko had never seen Lenin lying in state, only heard stories about him from his father. His only plan now was to get Lenin to Tyumen. That of course now lay in the hands of British Intelligence.

Eva awoke with a start. The submarine was rounding the island and the deep-sea dock was becoming visible. De Witte would be waiting for her.

She looked up into Brandt’s eyes and smiled wryly. ‘I lost someone before the war. I’m telling you this as we’re probably never going to see each other again, Captain Brandt. I’m really not a very nice girl and my life is very, very complicated,’

Brandt smiled, and kissed her softly, savouring her mouth. ‘I know.’

In the afternoon light her hair shimmered. Without make-up she looked much younger. He kissed her again, probably for the last time. He could smell sea salt in her hair.

Chapter 13

Suomenlinna, Finland

Brandt breathed in the evening air, savouring the tang of the sea, burrowing himself deeper into his heavy coat. His fingers sought the cigarette case in the coat’s pocket. Before leaving the island, Eva had handed it to Brandt. Inside it, there was a carefully folded piece of paper with an address in the city. The Russian had been moved to Helsinki with the two men; probably for de-briefing, meaning Eva would be there for a while. He read and re-read the piece of paper, committing it to memory before destroying it.

The lights of Helsinki shimmered across the water, a thin yellow line cutting the evening darkness across the sea. The snow had stopped, the cloud cover barely allowing the seven or so hours' daylight to penetrate it, rendering the entire day bleak. He had located the small boat near the dry dock, the oars neatly stowed. Again he looked up and judged the distance from the island to the city where Eva was; it’d take a few hours, but he had to see her. He wound his watch, released the strap and handed it to the man beside him. ‘Thank you.’

The fisherman nodded, slipped the watch around his wrist, admiring it in the faint light, then handed Brandt a flask, map, torch and a detailed map.

Brandt pulled on a woollen hat and eased himself into the boat. The fisherman pushed him out into the tide, gave a swift wave and turned back toward his hut, its lights warm and welcoming in the bitterly cold evening. The boat cut through the water. The sea was as calm as a sheet of glass. Above him occasional pockets of stars appeared in the clouds. Every stroke toward her released the agony of war and, although the end of this journey was uncertain, he felt in his heart it was the right thing to do.

She was waiting, sitting near the
pension’s
window, a book resting on her lap, never once doubting he would appear. There he was, crossing the street and looking up at the windows of the building. At the sight of him, she pushed back the curtain and their eyes met like a shock of electricity through the glass. She heard the knock at the door. They stood facing each other for a moment, their gaze locked. He took her hand and closed the door behind her softly. He kissed her. She returned the kiss and a wave of euphoria surged through them. Their fingers and tongues followed a primordial signal from the brain, each responsive and unlocking the code of the other's needs. Within seconds she could feel his urgent heat pressing against her. He reached under her hips, lifting her up onto his waist, forcing her skirt to ride up her thighs. She clamped her legs around him and they walked, stumbled and tripped toward the bedroom.

‘
Don’t make me pregnant,’ she whispered in his ear as she nipped the lobe with her teeth. He tilted his head back and laughed. It was a warm laugh and he pressed his face close to her. She could feel his breath on her lips.

‘
I’ll be very careful.’ He kissed her deeply again, bending down low and dropping her gently onto the mattress. His hands were experienced and assured. Nothing about Brandt was rushed. He undressed her slowly, planting soft kisses on her exposed flesh and he smiled up at her as she groaned.

‘
A little more comfortable than the submarine, Eva,’

He pulled away to look at her body. Her breasts were full and sat firm on her rib cage which tapered down to a flat stomach. Her skin was smooth and flawless, delicate and silky to the touch. He planted slow kisses around the rim of her navel and her torso twisted up to his mouth in response. His hands worked gradually up her legs and moved slowly toward her inner thigh, unfastening the suspenders with his free hand. They both moved to a more intense rhythm, their breathing short. ‘Now,’ she murmured.

* * *

He sat at the edge of the bed, naked, sipping wine. It was Chianti and a good one at that. She lay watching his back in the moonlight. His arms were strong and well shaped like those of a swimmer. There were nicks and whorls around the biceps which Eva recognised as old bullet grazes. His profile was linear, a long nose, not too full mouth and solid faintly scarred chin. It was wrong to compare, but she did. De Witte was uncertain at times with her in bed as if he was trying to avoid thinking of his wife. She finished her glass and rose, extinguishing the cigarette into the empty coffee cup beside the bed. Good wine, fresh coffee and sex. She felt alive.

‘
You have to go. My friend will be returning soon.’ It was a lie and he knew it.