The Word of God (20 page)

Graham stood up. “Stop scaring the girls,” he said.

“Oh poo to you Graham Kirk!” Gwen snapped. “Don't be so sexist. I'll bet you are scared too!”

The man in the singlet waved his arms at them. “Stop arguing and get out of the way,” he ordered.

“Why? What are you going to do?” Graham asked.

“Shift this vehicle out of the way so we can drive out. Get out kid so I can move it,” he snarled.

Peter resented being called a kid but did as he was told. In his hand he held another of the small radios similar to the one they had captured on the first day, plus a small notebook which he suspected was the codebook. On the cover was the number 654.

The man in the singlet jumped into the driver's seat and started the engine. Graham and Joy hauled the unconscious Devil Worshipper aside and Gwen moved their packs. The bearded man and the two knights walked back down to the men's vehicle, deep in earnest conversation.

Within a minute the man had driven the vehicle down onto the river bank and parked it among the trees. He hopped out and walked straight to his own 4WD and got in. He friend climbed in, still talking to an anxious looking Sir Miles. The doors were slammed. The man leaned out and shouted: “Don't you bloody kids mention to anyone you have seen us, got it?”

Peter nodded and Gwen said yes. The vehicle's engine roared to life. Within a few seconds it went roaring up the slope out of sight.

The friends looked at each other, then at the two knights. Gwen asked Sir Miles: “Sir, did you get the information you needed?”

“Yes thank you. Now, you young people had better get moving,” Sir Miles replied.

“What will we do with this fellow?” Joy asked, pointing to the now trussed up Devil Worshipper.

Sir Miles answered. “We will guard him till you can send the police,” he said. “Then we will go with them, or walk to this hotel and telephone from there.”

“Are you finished your quest?” Gwen asked.

Sir Miles shook his head. “Sorry, I can't tell you,” he replied.

Sir Richard scowled at Gwen and said: “There's been too much talk already. Get going you kids.”

At that moment the radio let out a crackle. Peter nearly dropped it. For a moment he stared at it as a voice called: “Six Five Four this is Six Six, over.”

On an impulse Peter tossed the notebook to Gwen and said to Joy: “Copy this down, quick!”

As Joy fished out her pencil and notebook the radio called again. Peter took a deep breath and pressed the switch. “Six Six this is Six Five Four, over.”

“About bloody time!” replied 66. He then said: “Message, over.”

“Send, over,” Peter answered, hoping that his voice sounded like the prisoners.

66 then spoke in trigram code: “Delta Whisky Bravo, Delta Yankee Juliet, Delta Alpha Oscar, Delta Lima Mike, Delta Oscar Zulu, message ends, over.”

As the man spoke Peter repeated the words aloud. Joy, who had sat down on her pack and put her notebook on her knee, wrote them down. As soon as he finished Peter fished out the small notebook and leafed quickly through it. “Ah! Yes! Their code. Quick Joy, call out the trigrams and write the answers.”

Joy did as she was told. Peter rapidly scanned the columns of trigrams and words. They were arranged in alphabetical order in the ‘Decode' section so he quickly found the first one.

“Delta Whisky Bravo means ‘are'.” he said. Joy wrote this and Peter went on scanning, running his fingers down the page.
Stay calm!
he told himself, aware that his heart was beating very fast and he was feeling pressured and flustered. “Delta Yankee Juliet is ‘you'.”

Within a minute he had the answer: ARE YOU IN POSITION YET. As soon as he saw what it was he flicked the page to the encode section and found ‘Yes'. He then spoke into the radio. “Six Six this is Six Five Four, over.”

“Send Six Five Four.”

“Delta Lima Romeo, over,”

“Roger Six Five Four, message to follow.”

“Send, over,” Peter replied, very aware that his voice was on the edge of breaking with nervousness.

This message was longer and had twelve trigrams. While these were being decoded Megan fretted and grumbled and insisted they start walking. Peter ignored her and Gwen and Graham knelt to check the unconscious prisoner.

Peter read the message, checked a trigram and called back: “Six Six this is Six Five Four, Delta Alpha Whisky, over.”

“Roger Six Five Four, out.”

Peter heaved an audible sigh of relief. Gwen looked up. “What was that all about?”

“He told me to remain in position until further orders and to report all sightings. The last part was an ‘ack'.”

“A what?” Megan asked.

“An ‘ack', meaning to acknowledge that I had received the orders and understood them,” Peter explained.

Graham straightened up. “That means they don't know we have this character prisoner.”

Peter nodded. “No. And better still, it probably means they won't send anyone else here to look as long as they think their man here is watching the area.”

Gwen nodded. “That's right,” she agreed.

“So! Let's get going,” Megan said.

Peter shook his head. “No. I've got a better idea. This is a safe place to be, at least for a while. I think we should hide here while the two fittest go to Little Mulgrave to meet Captain Conkey.”

Sir Miles nodded. “I agree. We are safe as a group and they obviously don't know where we are.”

Graham pointed to the vehicle. “We could drive this bloke's truck,” he suggested.

Peter shook his head. “No, too obvious. His mates would recognize it and we don't know where the rest of them are,” he said.

“Who will go?” Gwen asked.

“Pete and me,” Graham replied at once. “We will take one gun and no gear.

That will leave you with three guns. And if we run into trouble we can take to the bush.”

Gwen frowned and Megan looked very anxious. “How long will it take?” she asked.

“Twenty minutes? Half an hour?” Graham guessed. “Then another half hour or so before the cops arrive.”

“What will we do if you don't.. if you don't return?” Gwen asked.

“Hide in the scrub, then make your way to the nearest farm and phone the cops,” Peter replied. “Graham, get Steve down here to take over this radio. Gwen, you go sentry up there on the rise. Let's get organized.”

Chapter 13

PETER!

G
raham checked the pistol, then turned to Peter. “OK Pete, ready?”

Peter nodded. “Yes.”

At that Joy let out a little cry and said: “Oh Peter! Do be careful!”

“We will be. You people keep hidden here,” Peter replied. With that he turned away, hotly aware that Joy cared for him.

As the two youths started walking up the track Megan called anxiously after them: “Do you have to go? Shouldn't these men go instead? I think you should stay here Peter.”

Peter was embarrassed by Megan's emotional outburst. He called back: “We won't be long.” Shaking his head in confusion he continued on up the slope behind Graham who muttered over his shoulder: “Megan must be sweet on you too Pete. I note she wasn't worried about me going.”

“What do you mean by too?” Peter asked, both nettled and even more embarrassed.

“Isn't it obvious? Joy thinks you are wonderful, though I can't imagine why,” Graham replied.

Peter could only grunt and pretend that he was puffed from the steep slope.

At the top they found Stephen standing amid head high grass and weeds looking out over a wasteland of long grass which extended for hundreds of metres to the high bank of the river. The vehicle track, two wheel ruts, curved right and went steeply down into this and was soon lost to sight.

Graham gave Stephen a quick explanation of their plan then, with a casual: “See you later,” he continued on. Stephen grinned and patted Peter on the shoulder as he passed. There were times when Peter could not stand Stephen but at that moment he was glad he was there. With something of a shock he realized he had been worrying about leaving the girls. Knowing Stephen was on guard and could be depended on eased his mind.

Graham walked fast down the slope onto the flat grassy area. Here the rough track curved slowly left to run along below the high grassy bank. The grass was shoulder high, allowing them to see over it. On the left, a hundred metres off,
was the line of trees marking the line of the river. These grew on top of a long mound.

Graham studied his map, then pointed to the tree covered ridge. “This flat area was the old gravel quarry. They dug it all out, leaving that low ridge beside the river. Now the quarry is all overgrown.”

Peter looked around and agreed. They walked quickly on, despite the long grass and the possibility of stepping on a snake. Peter thought about this and was glad that Graham was leading. Five minutes brisk walking brought them to a road junction. It was as described. A bitumen road came down the slope on their right and went on across a bridge about a hundred paces to their left. A two foot gauge tramline also came down through a cutting and went across the same bridge.

By this time the whole valley was in shadow and Peter was very conscious of the speed at which dusk was setting in.

Graham paused to study the layout and to scan both high banks for any sign of watchers. He looked at his watch, grunted: “Seventeen thirty.” and resumed walking. He went right along the bitumen. This led them up through a low cutting to the level of the flood plain. This was flat and open. Fields of young cane spread out on both sides. Above them the last of the sunlight lit up the mountain tops.

A side road went off on the left to a farm house a few hundred metres away. A sign informed that ‘Trespassers will be prosecuted'. Another farm was an equal distance ahead beside the road they were on so Graham kept walking towards it. The tramline ran beside the road.

As they drew closer to the farm several large dogs appeared in the yard of the house. These began to bark and growl menacingly. The boys stopped at the front gate. This sent the dogs into a frenzy of savage action; racing up and down the fence, trying to jump it, snarling and baring their teeth.

Graham shook his head. “I was hoping we might use their phone,” he said. “But it looks as though nobody is home.”

“Never mind. The pub is just along there a few hundred metres,” Peter replied.

They set off walking again, confident things were turning out for the best as the roof of the hotel was now visible above the sugar cane. The tramline diverged, angling away to the right to run across an open field and then to pass through a gap in some trees which Peter knew indicated a bridge across the Little Mulgrave. The line was a branch of the one they had walked along earlier in the day.

The road curved left and the hotel came into view. Peter felt a surge of relief.

Safe! Not far now,
he thought.

They came to a T-junction. The hotel stood on a low rise just beyond the bitumen road which now crossed their path.

“Gillies Highway,” Graham commented.

Even at that time of evening the highway was busy and they had to wait for two cars to pass from either direction before crossing. A driveway led up to a flat area in front of the hotel so they walked up this. Five vehicles of various types were parked outside. Already it was dark enough for the lights inside to shine out with a promise of safety and warmth. Sounds of laughter and music flowed out into the stillness of the evening.

Neither lad was old enough to enter a licensed premises and both knew the law could be very strict if they were caught so they hesitated on the veranda of the old timber building. It was a typical two-story structure with a bar and lounge separated by a central hallway.

Graham led the way into the hallway and looked into the public bar through a doorway on his left. Inside were six men, all with the look of workers about them. The publican was busy polishing the bartop. One of the men noticed them and let out a loud cry.

“Oi, Oi! Here's the bloody army. Don't shoot, we surrender!”

With that the man burst into drunken laughter and several others joined in. Some just glanced at the boys, then ignored them. The publican at once nodded and came to the door.

Before Graham could speak the publican said: “Are you the army cadets that Capt Conkey was expecting?”

“Yes we are,” Graham said. “Has he already been?”

“About half an hour ago. He left a phone number and wants you to call him as soon as you get here.”

The publican went back to the bar, picked up a piece of paper and came back. He asked: “Where have you kids been? The captain was real worried about you.”

Neither Graham nor Peter answered this, not knowing what to say. They were saved by the drunk who called loudly for them to come in and have a drink.

Graham gave a wry smile. “Where is the phone?” he asked.

The publican pointed behind them to where a public telephone rested on a small bench in the corner just inside the hallway door. A call from a customer demanding service then caused him to go back into the bar, leaving the boys alone in the hall. Graham took out some coins and fed them into the telephone. He made the call and waited.

Almost at once Capt Conkey answered. Peter stood close so he could hear. Again he was surprised at how glad he was to hear Capt Conkey's voice.

Graham did the talking. “Sir, we are the Little Mulgrave Hotel. I can't tell you more on the phone but could you please come and get us and bring the police?”

Capt Conkey asked what the problem was. Graham replied: “Same as yesterday sir. Please hurry. We will wait here.”

At that moment a black 4WD drove slowly up the driveway and stopped just out of view. Peter felt a stab of worry and leaned forward to look around the door post. What he saw made him go cold with shock. A man dressed in a dark green camouflage jacket and black trousers stepped out of the rear passenger's seat into the band of light outside the bar.