'There you are, O lord and master. Tea and toast, two boiled eggs, four and a half minutes as you suggested, and cheese sandwiches.'
Devlin stopped writing and looked at the tray appreciatively. 'Keep up this standard and I might be tempted to take you on permanently.'
She took off the trenchcoat. Underneath she was only wearing pants and bra and she picked up her sweater from the end of the bed and pulled it over her head 'I'll have to get moving I told Mum I'd be in for my dinner.'
He poured himself a cup of tea and she picked up the notebook 'What's this?' She opened it 'Poetry?'
He grinned. 'A matter of opinion in some quarters.'
'Yours?' she said and there was genuine wonder on her face. She opened it at the place where he had been writing that morning. 'There is no certain knowledge of my passing, where I have walked in woodland after dark.' She looked up 'Why, that's beautiful, Liam.'
'I know,' he said 'Like you keep telling me, I'm a lovely boy.'
'I know one thing, I could eat you up.' She flung herself on top of him and kissed him fiercely 'You know what today is ? The fifth of November only we can't have no bonfire because of rotten old Adolf.'
'What a shame,' he jeered.
'Never you mind.' She wriggled into a comfortable position, her legs stradding him. 'I'll come round tonight and cook you supper and we'll have a nice little bonfire all our own.'
'No you won't' he said. 'Because I shan't be here'
Her face clouded, 'Business?'
He kissed her lightly 'Now you know what you promised.'
'All right,' she said 'I'll be good I'll see you in the morning.'
'No, I probably won't get back till tomorrow afternoon. Far better to leave it that I'll call for you - all right?'
She nodded reluctantly 'If you say so.'
'I do.'
He kissed her and there was the sound of a horn outside Molly darted to the window and came back in a hurry grabbing for her denim trousers 'My God, it's Mrs. Grey.'
'That's what's called being caught with your pants down,' Devlin told her, laughing.
He pulled on a sweater. Molly reached for her coat 'I'm off I'll see you tomorrow beautiful. Can I take this? I'd like to read the others.'
She held up his notebook of poetry God, but you must like punishment, he said.
She kissed him hard and he followed her out, opening the back door for her, standing watching her run through the reeds to the dyke, knowing that this could well be the end 'Ah, well,' he said softly 'The best thing for her.'
He turned and went to open the door in answer to Joanna Grey's repeated knocking. She surveyed him grimly as he tucked his shirt into his trousers 'I caught a glimpse of Molly on the dyke path a second ago.' She walked past him 'You really should be ashamed of yourself.'
'I know,' he said as he followed her into the sitting-room 'I'm a terrible bad lot. Well, the big day I'd say that warrants a little nip. Will you join me?'
'Quarter of an inch in the bottom of the glass and no more,' she said sternly.
He brought the Bushmills and two glasses and poured a couple of drinks 'Up the Republic!' he told her, 'both the Irish and South African varieties. Now, what's the news?'
'I switched to the new wavelength last night as ordered, transmitting directly to Landsvoort Radl himself is there now.'
'And it's still on?' Devlin said 'In spite of the weather?'
Her eyes were shining. 'Come hell or high water, Steiner and his men will be here at approximately one o'clock.'
.
Steiner was addressing the assault group in his quarters. The only person present other than those actually making the drop was Max Radl. Even Gericke had been excluded. They all stood around the map table. There was an atmosphere of nervous excitement as Steiner turned from the window where he had been talking to Radl in a low voice and faced them. He indicated Gerhard Klugl's model, the photos, the maps.
'All right. You all know where you're going. Every stick every stone of it, which has been the object of the exercise for the past few weeks. What you don't know is what we re supposed to do when we get there.'
He paused, glancing at each face in turn, tense expectant. Even Preston, who, after all, had known for some time, seemed caught by the drama of the occasion.
So Steiner told them
.
Peter Gericke could hear the roar from as far away as the hangar.
'Now what's happening, for God's sake?' Bohmler said
'Don't ask me,' Gericke replied sourly 'Nobody tells me anything around here.' The bitterness suddenly overflowed 'If we're good enough to risk our necks flying the sods in, you'd think we might at least be told what it's all about.'
'If it's as important as that,' Bohmler said, 'I'm not sure I want to know I'm going to check the Lichtenstein set.'
He climbed into the plane and Gericke lit a cigarette and moved a little further away, looking the Dakota over again Sergeant Witt had done a lovely job on the RAF roundels. He turned and saw the field car moving across the airstrip towards him, Ritter Neumann at the wheel, Steiner beside him, Radl in the rear It braked to a halt a yard or two away. No one got out.
Steiner said, 'You don't look too pleased with life. Peter.'
'Why should I?' Gericke said 'A whole month I've spent in this dump, worked all the hours God sends on that plane in there and for what?' His gesture took in the mist, the rain, the entire sky. 'In this kind of shit I'll never even get off the ground.'
'Oh, we have every confidence that a man of your very special calibre will be able to accomplish that.'
They started to get out of the field wagon and Ritter particularly was having the greatest difficulty in holding back his laughter 'Look, what's going on here?' Gericke said truculently 'What's it all about?'
'Why, it's really quite simple, you poor, miserable, hard-done-to-son of a bitch,' Radl said 'I have the honour to inform you that you have just been awarded the Knight's Cross '
Gericke stared at him, open-mouthed and Steiner said gently, 'So you see, my dear Peter, you get your weekend at Karmhall after all.'
.
Koenig leaned over the chart table with Steiner and Radl and Chief Petty Officer Muller stood at a respectful distance, but missing nothing.
The young lieutenant said, 'Four months ago a British armed trawler was torpedoed off the Hebrides by a U-boat under the command of Horst Wengel, an old friend of mine. There were only fifteen in the crew so he took them all prisoner. Unfortunately for them, they hadn't managed to get rid of their documents, which included some interesting charts of the British coastal minefields.'
'That was a break for somebody,' Steiner said.
'For all of us, Herr Oberst, as these latest charts from Wilhelmshaven prove. See, here, east of the Wash where the minefield runs parallel to the coast to protect the inshore shipping lane? There is a route through quite clearly marked The British Navy made it for their own purposes, but units of the Eighth E-boat Flotilla out of Rotterdam have used it with perfect safety for some time now. In fact, as long as navigation is accurate enough, one may proceed at speed.'
'There would seem to be an argument for saying that the minefield itself in such circumstances will afford you considerable protection,' Radl said.
'Exactly, Herr Oberst.'
'And what about the estuary approach behind the Point to Hobs End?'
'Difficult certainly, but Muller and I have studied the Admiralty Charts until we know them by heart. Every sounding, every sandbank. We will be going in on a rising tide, remember, if we are to make the pick-up at ten.'
'You estimate eight hours for the passage which would mean your leaving here at what - one o'clock?'
'If we are to have a margin at the other end in which to operate. Of course. this is a unique craft as you know. She could do the trip in seven hours if it comes to that. I'm just playing safe.'
'Very sensible.' Radl said 'because Colonel Steiner and I have decided to modify your orders I want you off the Point and ready to go in for the pick-up at any time between nine and ten. You'll get your final run-in orders from Devlin on the S-phone. Be guided by him.'
'Very well, Herr Oberst.'
'You shouldn't be in any particular danger under cover of darkness,' Steiner said and smiled. 'After all, this is a British ship.'
Koenig grinned, opened a cupboard under the chart table and took out a British Navy White Ensign. 'And we'll be flying this, remember.'
Radl nodded. 'Radio silence from the moment you leave. Under no circumstances must you break it until you hear from Devlin. You know the code sign, of course.'
'Naturally, Herr Oberst.'
Koenig was being polite and Radl clapped him on the shoulder. 'Yes, I know, to you I am a nervous, old man. I'll see you tomorrow before you leave. You'd better say goodbye to Colonel Steiner now.'
Steiner shook hands with both of them. 'I don't quite know what to say except be on time for God's sake.'
Koenig gave him a perfect naval salute. 'I'll see you on that beach, Herr Oberst. I promise you.'
Steiner smiled wryly. 'I damn well hope so.' He turned and followed Radl outside.
As they walked along the sand pier towards the field car Radl said, 'Well, is it going to work, Kurt?'
At that moment Werner Briegel and Gerhard Klugl came over the sand dunes. They were wearing ponchos and Briegel's Zeiss fieldglasses were slung around his neck.
'Let's seek their opinion,' Steiner suggested and called out in English, 'Private Kunicki! Private Moczar! Over here, please!' Briegel and Klugl doubled across without hesitation. Steiner looked them over calmly and continued in English, 'Who am I?'
'Lieutenant-Colonel Howard Carter, in command of the Polish Independent Parachute Squadron, Special Air Service Regiment,' Briegel replied promptly in good English.
Radl turned to Steiner with a smile, 'I'm impressed.'
Steiner said, 'What are you doing here?'
'Sergeant-Major Brandt,' Briegel began and hastily corrected himself. 'Sergeant-Major Kruczek told us to relax.' He hesitated then added in German. 'We're looking for shorelarks, Herr Oberst.'
'Shorelarks?' Steiner said.
'Yes, they're quite easy to distinguish. A most striking black and yellow pattern on face and throat.' Steiner exploded into laughter. 'You see, my dear Max? Shorelarks. How can we possibly fail?'
.
But the elements seemed determined to make sure that they did. As darkness fell, fog still blanketed most of Western Europe. At Landsvoort, Gericke inspected the airstrip constantly from six o'clock onwards, but in spite of the heavy rain the fog was as thick as ever.
There's no wind, you see,' he informed Steiner and Radl at eight o'clock. That's what we need now to clear this damn stuff away. 'Lots of wind.'
.
Across the North Sea in Norfolk things were no better. In the secret cubbyhole in the loft of her cottage, Joanna Grey sat by the radio receiver in her headphones and filled in the time reading a book Vereker had lent her in which Winston Churchill described how he had escaped from a prison camp during the Boer War. It was really quite enthralling and she was conscious of a rather reluctant admiration.
Devlin, at Hobs End, had been out to check on the weather as frequently as Gericke, but nothing changed and the fog seemed as impenetrable as ever. At ten o'clock he went along the dyke to the beach for the fourth time that night, but conditions didn't seem to have altered.
He flashed his torch into the gloom then shook his head and said softly to himself. 'A good night for dirty work, that's about all you can say for it.'
.
It seemed obvious that the whole thing was a washout and it was hard to escape that conclusion at Landsvoort, too. 'Are you trying to say you can't take off?' Radl demanded when the young Hauptmann came back inside the hangar from another inspection.
'No problem there,' Gericke told him. 'I can take off blind. Not particularly hazardous in country as flat as this. The difficulty's going to be at the other end I can't just drop those men and hope for the best. We could be a mile out to sea I need to see the target, however briefly.'
Bohmler opened the judas in one of the big hangar doors and peered in 'Herr Hauptmann.'
Gericke moved to join him 'What is it?'
'See for yourself.'
Gericke stepped through, Bohmler had switched on the outside light and in spite of its dimness, Gericke could see the fog swirling in strange patterns Something touched his cheek coldly, 'Wind!' he said 'My God, we've got wind!'
