Winter's Bullet (18 page)

‘Night Wolf, this is New Moon, all is ready here, what is your position?' He let go of the transmit button and waited.

‘This is Night Wolf.' Krüger recognized Müller's voice through his headset. ‘We have stopped for refuelling. ETA to New Moon is five hours. Five hours.'

‘Five hours – understand, Night Wolf. Radio check in one hour.'

‘Radio check in one hour, New Moon. Out.'

Krüger took off the headphones. Five hours until the Führer arrived. Tygo had better be here in the next five hours, or everything he had planned was for nothing. No ranch, no pretty Argentinian wife, no pleasant hours relaxing by a swimming pool. Well, Krüger swore to himself, if Frettchen didn't appear, he would take great satisfaction in putting a bullet in that young girl's head before he made his own escape.

CHAPTER 24

T
hey dragged the two policemen into a ditch by the side of the house and drove the remaining short distance south towards the coast and the outskirts of Zandvoort. They didn't meet any patrols, and after turning off the main road they followed the narrow single lane surrounded by thick woods until they reached the bridge they'd spotted on the map. It had an old wooden sign marking it as the Red Shank Bridge; Red Shank was the name of a common wading bird in that area. Over the bridge the track continued, as did the woods, leading a couple of kilometres further on to sand dunes and the beach. The trees were mostly pine, with some beech and spruce among them. The snow lay thick on the ground.

They unloaded the Opel first, carrying the weapons and ammunition down the side of the canal embankment next to the bridge, and stored them just underneath the first wooden bridge support. Tygo took a moment to look at the underside. It was a typical Dutch bridge, supported by wooden piles driven into the bottom of the canal, and the middle central span could be lifted to allow river traffic to pass. Not that there was any: the canal itself was frozen as hard as concrete.

After they had emptied the Opel, Pieter drove it across the bridge and parked it inside the trees a couple of hundred metres beyond. Tygo helped Alisa unload the Kübelwagen, then took it across the bridge himself and drove it in next to the Opel.

He walked back across the bridge with Pieter, who was peering up at the night sky; what little moon there was lay shrouded in high cloud. ‘Dark, that's good,' he said.

Tygo nodded. ‘How long have you and my sister been . . . you know?'

‘A few months,' Pieter replied.

‘Oh,' said Tygo. ‘Are you going to marry her?'

Pieter laughed softly. ‘We haven't discussed it. Do I have your permission?'

‘It's not funny,' said Tygo.

‘No,' said Pieter more seriously. ‘You're right, it's not. She's a very beautiful woman.'

Their boots crunched on the snow as they walked. They were nearly halfway across. Pieter hurried forward and across to the side, leaning over and looking down.

‘This support, I reckon – this is the one to set the
charges on.' Tygo leant over the side of the bridge to look. ‘You think you could climb over and do it?'

Tygo found a foothold on the steel latticework running along the side of the bridge, and swung his leg over so he was straddling it. He looked down at the frozen white canal below.

‘Yes, I think so,' he said, ‘but it might be easier to climb along underneath.'

‘Whatever you want,' said Pieter.

Tygo swung his leg back and dropped back down to the ground. They walked on in silence until they reached the end of the bridge, where Alisa was waiting for them. Several other members of the group had arrived, including Ursula, Tygo noted. He thought she was looking a little scared now.

‘All right,' said Pieter. ‘Alisa, help your brother set the charges. Tygo knows where to plant it.' He turned to the others. ‘The rest of you, get your weapons.'

Tygo quickly crossed to Ursula's side. ‘Are you okay?'

‘Why do you care?' Ursula said then added, ‘I'm sorry, I didn't mean. . .'

‘It's all right, I understand,' Tygo replied. Now was not the time to make up.

He hurried back to his sister, and together they slid down the side of the bank beside the bridge. Tygo watched as she opened one of the boxes.

‘I think it might be easier if I crawl through under the bridge to the middle rather than climb over the side,' he said. ‘It'll take longer, that's the only thing.'

‘Okay, Tygo, if you say so. We've still got time, I'm
pretty sure.'

She lifted out a block of what looked like putty. It was about the size of a shoebox, and looked similar to the stuff Krüger had used on the safe that day in the Löwensteins' villa. She started to roll it across her thighs, turning it slowly into a sausage shape, twice its original length.

‘Try to wedge it well in – next to the pilings.' She handed it to Tygo.

‘Isn't it dangerous?'

Alisa shook her head. ‘Only when you detonate it. It's actually very stable.'

Tygo nodded and slung the length round his neck. It was rather heavy.

Alisa reached back into the box and took out a silver cylinder the size of a cigarette, with two little contacts at one end. ‘Blasting cap. Once you've got the explosives in place, stick this in at one end and attach this wire to the contacts on the end.' She handed him a reel of two-ply wire, which he stuffed inside his jacket. As he did so, he remembered the Red Queen, and felt for it in his pocket in a sudden panic. But it was still there, buried at the bottom underneath his filthy handkerchief. He'd twisted the pocket round for good measure to hold it secure. He would do this one last task and then he must be on his way, he thought. He wondered what time it was. Willa rushed back into his consciousness again. What was she doing? Was she all right?

‘Tygo?' His sister nudged him.

‘Okay,' he said and took a deep breath. ‘Here goes.' He pulled himself up on to the first wooden beam and started
to climb through the mesh of cross-supports towards the centre of the bridge. The frozen canal below dropped away from him as he worked his way along. The beams were freezing cold, but not icy, thank God, and he was able to keep a good grip on them. Once or twice he missed his footing and slid back, but he managed to recover on both occasions with nothing more serious than wounded pride.

He carefully slipped the explosive from around his neck and, bracing his legs against the supports, used both his hands to press along the cross-support running between the two wooden pilings. They anchored the mechanism that lifted the middle section up. Satisfied, Tygo pushed the blasting cap into one end and wound the wires around the contacts. He carefully made his way back to the side of the canal, paying out the wire from its reel as he went.

When he reached the end, he dropped down on to the canal embankment and handed the wire to Alisa. She spliced the ends on to the screw-down contacts of the detonator box.

‘We're set,' she said. As she spoke, they both heard a deep rumble coming towards them.

‘Is it them?' said Tygo. The rumble was getting louder, fuller somehow.

‘No, no . . .'Alisa pointed up to the dark night sky. ‘It's up there, in the sky. Listen.' They both lay on the snowy bank and looked up at the sky. Sure enough, the noise grew louder and louder until there was a great droning and buzzing sound filling the night. Allied bombers on
their nightly journey to flatten what little remained standing in Germany.

‘There must be hundreds of them,' said Tygo.

‘Thousands,' said Alisa.

‘I wouldn't want to be under that.'

‘Me neither.' She squeezed his hand softly. ‘Now go on, find Pieter, tell him we're ready.'

Krüger had also heard the bombers overhead, their steel bellies filled with blockbuster bombs and ‘cookies' to lay waste to another German town. It was now nearly ten; at the last radio check Müller had reported the convoy as being ahead of schedule. Hitler would be here soon.

Which left him with the vexed question of Tygo's whereabouts. Something must have happened. He had had his radio operators call Headquarters; Krüger's vehicle had been reported as having passed a checkpoint around four o'clock, to the west of the city, and then nothing. The police at the checkpoint had also disappeared.

The policeman in Krüger didn't like the situation one bit. Something had gone wrong, and when the Führer arrived he would be empty-handed. He felt panic filtering in, but fought to keep it at bay. Without that stone his future was bleak. He realized he would have to desert there and then, make a run for it, for Müller would most surely carry out his threat and have him shot. Damn Tygo, damn him, his life was in that stupid boy's hands now. There was nothing he could do but wait, and hope he turned up. Perhaps he had gone off on some half-baked pursuit of his own, but if he really wanted to save himself
and the girl, he was going the wrong way about it. For a terrible moment he entertained the possibility the little ferret was dead but then dismissed the thought, he was a survivor that one. Like him.

Krüger stopped outside the aircrew's tent. Hans Bauer, the Führer's personal pilot, was part of the convoy coming from the Adlerhorst, but the co-pilot and navigator had been flown in with the weapon the previous night. They were both KG 200 personnel, recommended by their Oberstleutnant Baumbach, and the navigator was also a fully trained pilot.

Krüger wondered if it would be a good idea to have them bring the plane up to the edge of the airstrip, ready to go. Although the night was clear, who knew if a fog might roll in off the sea? On balance he decided it was the best thing to do. He pulled the tent flap back and stepped inside. The two men were seated round a small metal stove, warming their hands. A coffee pot sat on the round plate on the top. They stood and saluted.

‘Gentlemen, I think, given the time, it would be wise of us to bring the Arado up to the strip.'

‘But Commander Bauer is not here yet.'

‘I am aware of that, but it is my judgement that the plane should be ready for take-off as soon as the passengers arrive.'

‘Of course, Oberst, a very sensible suggestion. We can warm the engines, run the flight checks, top out the tanks if necessary.'

‘Very good, I will pass the order down. How long do you think it will take?'

‘Half an hour, perhaps. The Kettenkrad will tow her into position.'

Krüger saluted and left them to get on with it. The radio operators would make the hourly check with the convoy and, God willing, Tygo would appear with the diamond that the Führer had promised to present personally to Eva Perón. Not that Krüger believed in God, but he had to keep telling himself that it was all going to work out somehow.

He walked back towards his tent, where he had the girl under guard. She was sitting on a stool by the tent's stove, warming her hands.

‘Your boyfriend is cutting it fine.'

‘Oh, he'll be here,' Willa said firmly, but Krüger could detect fear under the bravado. In spite of that, he desperately hoped she was right.

CHAPTER 25

T
ygo had just given the news to Pieter about the charges being ready when everything seemed to slow down and speed up at the same time. He was crouched down on the southern side of the road, just inside the treeline. The bridge was about thirty metres away.

‘Listen,' he said. ‘I have to go now . . . Willa . . .'

‘What?' Pieter was only half listening. ‘Engines! I hear engines!' he yelled out.

‘What?' said Tygo.

Sure enough, the sound of heavy engines – lots of them – could suddenly be heard through the trees. They were approaching fast, too.

‘Get ready!' shouted Pieter.

‘No,' said Tygo. 'No, I have to go, it's not fair.'

The lead armoured car's headlights suddenly cut through the darkness as it thundered round the corner. Behind it came the other vehicles, engines revving loudly.