Bloody Passage (v5) (16 page)

"Thomas Wolfe would have approved of you," I said.

"Effendi?" He looked completely bewildered.

At that moment the Landrover appeared on a stretch of road to our right. I turned to scramble across the tender to reach the machine gun, too late, for it was already firing.

As I went over the top of the boxcar, the Landrover disappeared from view again and Langley turned from the RPD and grinned. "Ah, there you are, old stick."

"What in the hell are you doing here?" I demanded.

"Couldn't very well leave you to all those tedious heroics on your own," he said. "Two pairs of hands are better than one and all that sort of rubbish. Or it could just be that I've grown to care for you."

"What about Wyatt?"

"Barzini and Nino can manage him between them. I'd only have got in the way." He grinned and stuck a cigarette in his mouth. "Aren't you glad I'm on your side?"

It stank, of course, because whatever else he was there for, it wasn't for the good of my health, of that I was certain. If I'd had any sense, I'd have shot the bastard out of hand there and then, but there was a chance that we might still need each other so, for the moment, I decided to go along with the idea while making damn sure that I never turned my back on him.

The engine started to labor as we moved into the cut Talif had spoken of. It was very steep, the banks towering above us on each side.

"Over the hill and only two more miles to the river crossing," Talif shouted.

There was a dull thud on the roof of the cab. I leaned out on the footplate and saw Colonel Masmoudi dropping in on Langley from the top of the cut.

I turned to go up over the tender to Langley's assistance and Sergeant Husseini swung down from the roof of the cab through the other entrance and kicked me in the face. I should have gone straight out backwards and finished up under the wheels, but the instinctive response of the trained soldier had me already turning so that his boot only grazed my right cheek.

It was almost enough, for I did swing out into space for a moment, although I managed to grab one of the hand rails. I pulled myself in again in time to see Talif struggling in the sergeant's grip. He didn't stand a chance and Husseini simply threw him away from him. Talif grabbed for a rail, missed, and disappeared with a terrible cry.

Husseini was at the controls now, wrenching at the brake lever. I pulled out the Stechkin machine pistol awkwardly with my left hand because I was still hanging on to the grab rail with my right. Some instinct made him turn, eyes burning in that dark face, but by then it was too late. I shot him once in the right shoulder, the high velocity bullet turning him round in a circle. My second shot shattered his spine, driving him headfirst into darkness.

As I scrambled up across the tender, the machine gun went over with a crash. Langley and Masmoudi rolled from one side of the roof to the other, tearing at each other's throats like a couple of mad dogs, in imminent danger of falling over the edge to the track at any moment.

It was difficult to get a clear shot as they twisted and turned in the shadows, but in any event I had other things on my mind. The train came out of the cutting and breasted the hill and below, at the end of a two mile gradient was the bridge over the river.

Something else was unpleasantly clear also--the three soldiers in camouflaged uniforms working their way along the line of boxcars, obviously the rest of the crew of the lead Landrover.

I fired several shots to keep their heads down, but without much effect, for the train was picking up speed now on the slope, swaying like a crazy thing.

There was really only one sensible thing to do under the circumstances so I eased myself down between the tender and the boxcar and got to work on the coupling hook and chain. The retaining pin came out with surprising ease, but we all stayed together for the present, which was only to be expected on the downhill run.

I scrambled back over the tender to the cab, got a hand to the brake lever and turned. Langley and Masmoudi were on their feet now and face to face, and none of your nasty karate either. They squared up to each other like gentlemen, swapping punch for punch, but I suppose that was only to be expected when Eton met Sandhurst.

I fired a shot into the air and as Langley turned his head, yelled, "Jump for it! Your only chance!" Then I pulled down the brake lever.

He had the sense to obey me without question, leaping high into the air, landing in the tender's coal bunker as the gap widened and the rest of the train drew away rapidly downhill, Masmoudi standing at the edge of the boxcar, his men working their way towards him. And then he did a strange thing. He put his heels together and saluted.

"My God!" I said. "More English than the bloody English themselves. Branded clean to the bone; That's Sandhurst for you."

Langley picked up an assault rifle from the floor of the cab and took careful aim. I knocked up the barrel as he fired and the bullet soared into space.

"You'd shoot anything rather than nothing, wouldn't you?"

"Peck's bad boy, that's me," he replied amiably.

The engine had ground to a halt and the rest of the train plus Masmoudi and his men was quarter of a mile away down the grade now and moving fast. I fiddled around with the controls which were simple enough and finally got the wheels to turn again, but in the opposite direction this time.

We started to climb back up the grade and I told Langley to stand on top of the tender and keep his eyes peeled for the other Landrover, just in case it decided to reappear.

We went over the hill and started the long run down to the tunnel through the cut. I hadn't bothered reholstering the Stechkin, but held it in my right hand against my thigh. I didn't trust him, not for one single moment. Certainly if the idea was to put me out of the way for good and all, the present situation was made to order.

I positioned myself carefully, one eye on the controls, the other on him and as we neared the mouth of the tunnel, I hooked open the fire-box gate with one foot so that the flickering flames illuminated both the cab and general area of the tender. I think he knew what I was up to for there was a slight, amused smile on his mouth.

We coasted out on the other side of the tunnel and I shoved on the brakes to slow her up a little. "Get ready to jump!" I told him.

"Are you going to leave her running, old stick?"

"I don't see why not. That way they won't have the slightest idea where we got off. With any luck she'll keep right on going until she ends up back in that prison yard."

I jumped then, quite suddenly and without telling him, no great feat as the train was doing no more than ten miles an hour. I hit the gravel at the side of the track, still running and Langley followed, perhaps twenty or thirty yards further on. I scrambled up the banking quickly and was on top, ready and waiting as he arrived.

The train disappeared around a curve and Langley joined me. "There she goes, out of our lives forever. I feel quite sad. What now?"

"We make tracks," I said. "For Gela and as fast as we can. I told Barzini to give me an hour, remember, and then leave and he's just liable to take me at my word."

I was still holding the Stechkin, I let him see that and I waited, making him move out first which he did, although that same tiny amused smile was in evidence as if he knew what I was thinking and found the whole damn thing too funny for words.

But that didn't matter. Not as far as I was concerned. I had his back in front of me all the way down the hillside to the sea and that was all I was interested in.

I checked my watch as we went down through the olive grove on the outskirts of Gela. The Bedouin camp was quiet. A dog barked once at our passing, then subsided.

The general store was in darkness also, except for a single light on the veranda, but as we passed a voice hissed from the shadows, "Signor Grant! Over here!"

Izmir stood against the wall, concealed from view by a buttress. "What is it?" I said.

"Your friends are in bad trouble, signor. The customs launch and Lieutenant Ibrahim returned this evening after you had left and tied up at the pier."

"Did he visit the
Palmyra?"

"Oh, yes, signor."

Which was a really bad break if you like and I wondered what Angelo had told him.

"Three of his men were up here very late, signor, drinking and playing cards. Someone came for them from the customs launch. It seems they had received a message over the radio asking them to check all strange boats. Something to do with an escape from Ras Kanai."

"Has anyone else come through here within the past half an hour or so?" I said.

"Your friends, signor. Lieutenant Ibrahim had them arrested at once and your boat brought in to the pier."

"That's bloody marvelous," Langley said. "I mean to say that really does make it the end of a perfect day."

"My thanks," I said to Izmir and moved off into the darkness toward the pier, and this time I didn't worry too much about my back because it struck me with some force that in the circumstances, Langley and I needed each other rather badly.

The customs launch was moored at the end of the pier and the
Palmyra
was tied up to her. The deck lights were turned on giving plenty of illumination. Barzini, Nino, Simone, and Angelo stood together by the wheelhouse, all with their hands clasped behind their backs. Wyatt sat on the deck, his back to the rail.

Lieutenant Ibrahim confronted them, full of self importance. Six or seven sailors stood in a half circle, rifles at the ready.

We paused in the shelter of a beached fishing boat. "My God," Langley said, "they'll make him a Hero of the Revolution or something for this night's work. Flag rank at the very least. The thing is, what are we going to do about it?"

"Whatever it is, it had better be quick," I said. "I should think he's been on the radio to Tripoli by now. He doesn't strike me as the sort to hide his light under a bushel."

There was no one stationed at the RPD machine gun mounted on the swivel in the stern. I pointed it out to Langley. "Do you think you could swim round the end of the pier and take charge of that thing if I created a diversion?"

"I should imagine so."

"All right, off you go. I'll give you five minutes."

He dodged along the beach, keeping to the shadows and entered the water close to the pier itself. I watched very closely, could just see his head as he went round the end of the pier. It was then that I made my move.

I unclipped the Stechkin's wooden holster from my belt and clipped it into place, forming a shoulder stock. Then I took careful aim and shot out the launch's masthead light.

It was almost funny. Everybody went down including the sailors, except for Ibrahim, who drew a pistol. I fired again, shattering a window in his wheelhouse and three of his men fired wildly in my general direction. By that time I was flat on my face behind the boat and when I looked up again it was in time to see Langley haul himself over the rail behind them and take charge of the machine gun, swinging it on its swivel and firing a short burst out into the bay.

The effect was spectacular. Ibrahim and his men all turned and froze, trapped by this new menace. As I ran across the sand to the pier, Langley spoke to them in Arabic. The sailors turned uncertainly to look at Ibrahim and Langley loosed off another burst that shattered every window in the wheelhouse. This time everyone, including Ibrahim, did as they had obviously been told and threw their weapons over the side into the sea.

"Now we'll have them all on the pier," I said to Langley as I stepped over the rail.

He again gave them the necessary order and the sailors complied without hesitation. Ibrahim was slightly more reluctant and said to me, eyes smoldering, "You cannot hope to get away with this. The Libyan navy ..."

"What navy, for Christ's sake?" Barzini put a boot to his rear that sent him staggering over the rail.

"Right, let's get out of here," I said.

Nino and Barzini lifted Wyatt across the rail to the
Palmyra
and took him below and Simone went with them. I told Angelo to cast off, went into the wheel-house and started the engines. Barzini and Nino came back on deck holding assault rifles and stood at the rail covering the sailors.

"All right," I called to Langley. "Let's go."

He lifted the RPD off its tripod and threw it into the sea, then boarded
Palmyra
grinning hugely. "Anything else I can do for you, old stick?"

"Come to think of it, there is." I took one of the Sturma stick grenades from my belt and passed it out of the window to him. "You did a neat job on those tracks back at the prison. Let's see what you can accomplish this time."

"My pleasure."

As I increased power and turned
Palmyra
away he yanked the pin and stood at the rail holding the grenade for what seemed an inordinate length of time, only throwing it at the last possible moment. It sailed through one of the broken windows of the wheelhouse and exploded, with unfortunate consequences for Lieutenant Ibrahim and two of his men who were in the act of boarding.