Behind Mt. Baldy (54 page)

Inspector Sharpe looked at each
in turn: “Any ideas?”

Graham nodded. “We need to hit
them when the NCO is out checking the sentries,” he said. “He must be our
priority target.”

Inspector Sharpe shook his head.
“I don’t want any shooting if it can be avoided. And you cadets will not be
involved.”

“Oh sir!
I’m a good shot,” Graham
replied.

“I don’t care how good you are.
This is police business, not self preservation like it was yesterday. You will
not be taking part,” Inspector Sharpe replied emphatically.

Roger felt relieved by this
decision. He did not wish to shoot anyone. To his surprise Peter objected: “You
won’t have enough men then sir.”

“I propose giving rifles to
Prince Peter and Hauptman Ritnik, if they will volunteer and promise not to
misuse them. That will give me four; plus the element of surprise.” He turned
to Prince Peter. “I must ask for your word of honour sir; that you will only
use the weapons on my command to rescue the princess, not for revenge; or to
try to escape.”

“You have it Inspector,” Prince
Peter replied.

“I too can help,” the partisan
sergeant said.

“Yes, you can help. But I am not
giving you a gun. Now, we need a plan and quickly. It is nearly midday and we
don’t know when this Interrogation Team is due.”

Roger spoke up: “A decoy sir.
Something to get their attention and to lure the NCO out.”

“Good idea Roger, but what?”

Graham answered: “Attack from one
direction and send in a rescue group from another?”

“No. No shooting if it can be
avoided. It is too risky.”

“I could call on them to
surrender,” the partisan sergeant suggested.

Inspector Sharpe nodded. “Good
idea. Could you order them to move out, or to lay down their weapons?”

“I think not Comrade, er
..
sir
. They were given their
orders by the Political Officer.”

 There was a pause while
they all puzzled over a solution to the problem. Peter spoke first: “Put the
ideas together sir. First Roger’s decoy, then, while they are watching the
decoy, crawl forward so you have the drop on them and then call on them to
surrender. If they shoot then fire back and pin them down while a rescue group
goes round the back.”

Inspector Sharpe looked
thoughtful.
“Sounds promising.
How do we attract their
attention? What is the decoy?”

Graham turned to the partisan
sergeant: “Do they know what Australian soldiers look like?”

“Yes. That is what we thought you
were.”

“If they saw a patrol of
Australian soldiers in the distance would they shoot at them?”

The partisan sergeant shook his
head: “No, they would not wish to attract attention to themselves. They would
shoot only if discovered or attacked.”

Graham turned to Inspector Sharpe
and pointed to his sketch map. “What if your group crawl forward as close as
they can, say up behind this low rise where we just were, or even up the drain
beside the range. When you are in a position to see in behind the Butts and to
watch the shed door, we four cadets could walk across the Rifle Range half way
along, to the Club buildings or caretaker’s hut or whatever they are. We could
carry sticks to make it look as though we are armed. If we did it at the three
hundred or four hundred metre mound we should be safe enough. Their AK47s are
only sighted to three hundred. Then, when the sentries see us and call the NCO
out to have a look you creep closer and call on them to surrender. If he tries
to run back to murder the princess you could shoot him.”

Inspector Sharpe nodded. “You are
a bloodthirsty bugger CSM Kirk. But it sounds workable. That is what we will
do. But I don’t like the idea of you lads walking across a rifle range.”

Graham snorted derisively.
“Oh sir!
I’ve seen soldiers firing
on a
rifle range lots
of times. Most of them couldn’t hit the side of a
barn!”

At that
 
DS
Crowe chuckled and said, “Don’t forget General Sedgewick at the
Battle of Spotsylvania Courthouse.”

“Eh?” Inspector Sharpe asked
puzzled.

DS Crowe explained, “During the
American Civil War sir, 1863 or 4. A Yankee general stood up to study the field
and his men told him to keep down. He replied, ‘Nonsense, they couldn’t hit an
elephant at that range,’ then Whack! He got it right between the eyes. It’s in
my book of Famous Last Words.”

Inspector Sharpe frowned and
snapped, “Enough history thanks. I still don’t like it.”

“I think it’s a fair risk sir,”
Graham said. “Besides, what better plan is there?”

That stumped them. Hauptman
Ritnik nodded. “We can’t waste more time,” he said, “The Special Interrogators
will be dangerous communist fanatics. We must act before they arrive.”

“We could go out and get police
reinforcements sir. It must be only a kilometre or so,” Peter suggested.

Roger saw Inspector Sharpe bite
his lip and frown in indecision. Then he shook his head. “No, no time. We must
act fast and avoid a hostage situation. We will do it. Now, let’s settle some
details and get cracking.”

Five minutes later, with timings
and signals agreed on, Roger handed his rifle to Hauptman Ritnik and followed
Graham back along the base of the mountain. Graham had given his rifle to
Prince Peter. Peter and Stephen followed them.

Five hundred paces down range
they halted. Stephen glanced back and said, “I wonder if those Kosarians will
use those rifles to get away?”

Roger was indignant.
“Of course not!
The prince gave his word of honour.”

Stephen curled his lip.
“Word of Honour!
What a load of crap!”

“To you maybe!”
Roger cried.

Graham cut in. “Inspector Sharpe
trusts them,” he said.

“I’ll bet they take the
opportunity to plug all the partisans they can. I wouldn’t want to be that
sergeant who surrendered to us,” Stephen said.

That annoyed Roger as well.
“Inspector Sharpe wouldn’t let them. The sergeant is a prisoner in his care as
well,” he answered hotly. Sometimes he was quite offended by Stephen.

But Stephen persisted. “The
Inspector may not be able to do much about it if he gets a 7.62mm through the
back of the head,” he commented.

Peter shook his head. “I’ll bet
DS Crowe is keeping an eye on them. And I wouldn’t cross that man,” he put in.

“Too right!”
Graham agreed. “Well, the
fifteen minutes is up. Grab a stick and let’s go.”

They selected sticks which looked
roughly like rifles, then walked due north through the trees in single file,
ten paces apart. As they got closer to the clearing of the Rifle Range Roger
became very tense but despite his fear he kept on walking.

Graham walked out of the trees,
jumped the drain and headed for the huts on the other side at a steady walk.
Roger followed. As he scrambled across the drain onto the open ground he was
unable to resist a glance to his left. The Rifle Range was covered in short
grass, recently mowed. There was no cover at all. Roger tensed, expecting to
hear the familiar vicious crack of bullets; or to feel one smashing into his
body. Ghastly memories of the carnage he had witnessed the day before made him
go cold with fear.

‘They couldn’t hit an elephant
from that range!’ he thought, chilling at the idea of a bullet smashing into
his head. Somehow he kept on walking.

Everything remained quiet, save
for the sounds of distant traffic in the town. Roger glanced behind. Peter and
Stephen were following, spaced well apart and pretending to be on patrol. It
was only one hundred metres across the range but it seemed much longer. They
crossed about half way along, the cleared area extending off on either side for
hundreds of metres.

The sheds were closer with every
step. Roger resisted the urge to speed up. Graham actually stopped on the
gravel road beside the range and took out his map. He then looked around,
beckoning the others to join him.

“We have to be sure they see us,”
he explained.

After a minute, to Roger’s intense
relief, Graham continued walking and they reached the cover of the sheds. The
boys went behind a large club building and passed out of sight of the
butts
mound.

As they reached cover Peter wiped
his brow theatrically. “Whew! Talk about ducks in a shooting gallery,” he said.

Graham grinned: “That should have
the mongrels in a fluster!”

“Shhh! Listen,” Roger said.

Very faintly
came
the sound of a voice.

Graham listened then nodded.
“This is it! They are calling on them to surrender. Get ready to run,” he said.
The plan was for them to run away if there was any shooting. They were to go to
the nearest houses to call the police. They moved to peer around the corner of
the building.

Graham waved them to move. “There
is the partisan sergeant standing in the open. That’s our cue. Let’s go.”

Led by Graham they began
advancing up the gravel road towards the stop butts at a brisk walk, but still
spaced well apart. This was to continue the bluff by representing soldiers
moving up as reinforcements.

No shots so far. Had it worked?
Was the princess safe? Roger found he was not as frightened as he had expected
to be.

Graham pointed. “Look, they’ve
surrendered!”

A figure had stood up on top of
the mound with his hands in the air. Other figures joined him until five stood
in a line. They sat down, hands on heads. Inspector Sharpe and DS Crowe walked
out of the trees to cover them.

Roger got a fleeting glimpse of
Prince Peter and Hauptman Ritnik running down behind the mound.  “I think
they have done it,” he said. He felt enormously relieved and walked as fast as
he could.

Three minutes later the boys
walked up onto the mound in front of where six partisans sat. Five had their
hands on their heads and the sixth, the sergeant, still had his tied behind his
back. DS Crowe stood to one side with a sub-machine gun. The partisans stared
at them. One began to speak rapidly in Serbo-Croat.

“Silence!”
DS Crowe rapped.

The partisan sergeant explained.
“He is angry because now they see they have been tricked by boys with sticks.”

Roger suddenly felt foolish and
dropped his stick. Peter pretended to unload and make safe first.

“Wait there cadets,” DS Crowe
ordered.

Inspector Sharpe came around the
right hand end of the mound followed by Prince Peter, Hauptman Ritnik and the
princess. She was holding on to the Hauptman for support. Roger felt like
cheering and looked anxiously to see if she had been harmed. There was no
visible sign that she had been mistreated.

‘She is beautiful!’ Roger
thought. Then he felt a twinge of envy as she kissed Hauptman Ritnik on the
cheek and hugged him.

The group stopped near the boys.
Inspector Sharpe indicated them. “
Your
Royal Highness,
these are the cadets who helped rescue you.”

Graham called out: “Cadets,
atten...shun!” He snapped to attention and saluted. Roger stepped over beside
Peter and Stephen and stood rigid.

Prince Peter led the princess
over and returned Graham’s salute. “They also saved my life. They are very good
little soldiers.”

Princess Mareena smiled at them. “Thank
you very much. You are very brave,” she said.

‘What a musical voice! What a
beautiful smile!’ Roger thought. He felt quite dazzled by her presence, even
though she only wore a muddy Royal Guard uniform and jacket.

Inspector Sharpe then
interrupted. “You must excuse us please, but there is still danger and much to
be done. Can I ask you both to sit over there just inside the forest out of
sight? Hauptman Ritnik, can you guard their Royal Highnesses please.”

As the royal party started moving
Inspector Sharpe turned to the cadets. “Right, who feels like a run? I want two
of you to run out to the nearest house and phone the police. It should be just
the other side of those trees at the end of the Rifle Range. Commander Simkin
of the Federal Police is the man we want.”

Peter at once volunteered. “I’ll
go sir.”

“And me,” Graham offered.

“Me too,” Stephen added.

“CSM Kirk, you stay. Sergeants
Bronsky and Bell, you both go. Get moving!”

“Yes sir! Here, Roger, mind my jacket,”
Peter said as he hauled off his field jacket and thrust it into Roger’s hands.
Stephen did likewise. Then both turned and raced away. Roger felt sore just
watching them go.

“What do you want us to do sir?”
Graham asked.

“Nothing for
the moment, other than keeping watch in all directions.
Do you mind standing out here in
the open? Your uniforms will act as a powerful deterrent to any prowling
partisans.”