Betrayal (42 page)

The woman gave Nolan a dark look but did as asked. Yanking savagely on the rope, she pulled Bannerman's arms straight out in front of him and he was forced to stumble among the hummocks where Sphagnum moss, leatherleaf, Arctic willow and Arctic tea grew with cranberry and other stunted shrubs. The smell of the bog, that stench of rotten eggs, came with every step. Between the hummocks there were pools of water or springy patches of moss that leaked. Fay deliberately led them through the wet places. Bannerman wore only shoes; Hamish also, and Jimmy. Their feet must be freezing. Mary was glad of her gumboots and the dry socks Nolan had let Hamish take from her rucksack at the cottage.

All too soon, though, they left the hill and headed down into a long valley that ran under the fog and out towards the cliffs. There were boulders here, sedges, rushes, geese and ducks taking wing at their approach, feather mosses and tall grasses whose tussocks had been twisted together by the wind. More than once someone tripped on these last. Fay never let up. Galway seemed to spur her on.

Then there it was, the very edge of the cliffs vanishing suddenly into the clinging fog. They came across a sheep track and followed this into the rain the salt spray and the fog produced. Miserable, it was cold and wet, the burns on her left breast chaffing and stinging with each step even though under gauze and the Glasgow Cream
¹
Hamish had used, he having said, ‘Mary, it is yourself who should be forgiving me. It was all my fault.'

After another hour of mostly slogging it uphill, they took shelter in the lee of a ragged ledge of rock. Nolan offered cigarettes, lighting them for those whose hands were tied. Fay sat apart; Galway silently having gone off to keep a lookout.

‘You really ought to let me attend to the colonel,' said Hamish to Nolan. ‘The Nazis will want him. I'd also like to look at those burns of my wife's.'

Suspicion registered, since an element of privacy would be demanded for the latter.

‘We're not far from the meeting place. You can do it then.'

Another hour brought them on to a plateau to which the fog clung thickly. In places the ground was bare of soil and they walked across a land scraped clean by glaciers of long ago but littered with boulders of all sizes. In places there was stunted grass, then tufts of it and sedges, patches of wetland, but on the plateau and reaching up into the fog, the long, low shape of a hill rose incongruously off to their left. Since leaving their rest stop, Galway had changed places with Fay. God only knew how he found his way across the terrain, but he seemed to know every rock outcropping and boulder.

The hill grew steadily. There were no boulders on its slopes or crest, simply turf, but it wasn't until they had come much closer that Mary realized with a start just why Nolan had said the vice admiral would never forget the meeting place.

‘It's a Neolithic passage grave, a long barrow, Hamish. Those portal stones must each weigh several tons.'

He had no liking for it, nor had the colonel and Jimmy, for it had but one entrance, its exit.

At some point in the night Mary awoke to hear the endless crashing and booming of the surf against the cliffs and then, as a higher whistling, sighing series of sounds, the wind. The fire had gone down but trails of peat smoke continued to make her eyes water. The burns on her left breast constantly stung.

Across from her, the Darcy woman sat alone with Hamish's revolver clutched in one hand and a pistol in the other. Above them, above the central chamber, the roof was corbelled, large slabs of grey soot-stained stone lying in layers, one atop the half of another to bridge the span like the underside of an ancient staircase. The main chamber was perhaps no more than twelve feet across but nearly twenty in height. Giant stones formed the base of the wall, large upright ones having been inset into the four corners so that the encircling of the wall passed through them.

Fay was now looking at Bannerman and Jimmy who feigned sleep but not well enough. Perhaps Nolan and Galway had gone off to find Kevin, perhaps the woman felt she had her hands full—they'd never know for sure, but when the wind stirred the powdery ashes to life, her expression softened only to tighten at some other sound.

At last she could stand the waiting no longer and, leaving them, backed away and down the central passage on her hands and knees. There were two lesser chambers, the central passageway being nearly eighty feet in length. Burial vaults with their own cremation pits opened off each chamber. More than once Fay had threatened to shut them all into them. Dear God, what were they to do?

‘Mary, try not to let the blisters break,' whispered Hamish. ‘The longer they're kept, the better. Infection's the thing we must watch for. Even if the gauze gets wet and dirty, it's better than nothing. We must keep the air away for as long as possible.'

Was he thinking she would be left behind while he and the others were taken to Inishtrahull, or did he sense he'd be the one to be left?

‘They're agitated, lass. They're not in command of themselves. Something must have happened to O'Bannion and the others.'

Bannerman pulled himself into a sitting position. ‘Captain, see if you can get this rope off me.'

Fraser knew the time for such could never be better. ‘Kramer has a flesh wound in the right shoulder, Colonel. That shouldn't have held them back but are there others in worse shape?'

‘Just you and that wife of yours keep talking. You're the ones that bitch will first see when she comes back through that portal. I'm going to bash her bloody brains in.'

He had a boulder of granite in mind. Jimmy's fingers were stiff, but at last he managed to free him and then be freed himself. Fay still hadn't come back. Had Kevin and the others run into an ambush?

Mary felt her hands come free, Hamish having untied her, but still they had to wait, still there was only the constant sound of the surf and the wind …

‘Put the fire out!' hissed Bannerman. The toes of someone's boots or shoes were scraping the floor of the passageway, now to brace themselves, now to be dragged forward.

‘It's not the Darcy woman,' said Mary, her disappointment all too clear.

The scraping took nearly a half-hour, and only then, did they hear the laboured breathing. Bannerman lowered the boulder and, reaching well into the passageway, said, ‘Come on, man. I've got you now. There's a good chap. Just hang on a bit longer. Dr. Fraser's here and will attend to you.'

Jimmy struck a match. Hans Schleiger lay in the colonel's arms, the whole front of his turtleneck pullover soaked with blood.

Hamish knew there was no hope. By degrees they got the fire going, but by then Schleiger had died and they were left to wonder what had happened to the others and why Fay Darcy had not returned.

‘I'm going out,' whispered Allanby. ‘Cover me, Colonel.'

Bannerman's look was one of, ‘Do you really mean it?'

‘Someone has to,' he said. ‘It had best be myself.'

As they disappeared into the passageway, Hamish drew her close. Perhaps twenty minutes passed, perhaps a little more, then Bannerman returned, grim and silent. Blood streamed down the right side of Jimmy's face and neck. In shock, he was right back at Dunkirk, had that look about him.

‘She'll have his balls next,' breathed Bannerman. ‘Lay in wait for us. Placed that revolver of yours against his forehead. He froze, poor bastard. Pissed himself and I can't say that I blame him.'

Fay had cut off Jimmy's right ear and had tightly closed his hand about it. Hamish did what he could for him, but two others soon came. Both had been badly shot up and were grey with fatigue and pain, the one having been carried for miles. His name was Horst Laggerfeld and he was one of Erich's other officers. Helmut Wolfganger, though, was with him, a bullet in the left lung. Philosophical about it, he gave her a wan smile and managed to say, ‘So we meet again.'

‘Helmut, why did you have to come with them?' She was clearly distressed.

‘Why not? We all knew it was a chance.'

‘But you must have been ordered not to join them?'

Again he gave her that smile, causing her to wonder what he was thinking.

‘Someone had to take home the truth about Bachmann, Mrs. Fraser. He was one of the best and they had no right to do that to him. Bachmann's wife and family need to know this.'

‘Did Philip Werner escape?'

‘On crutches? But of course. I … I was helping him. The dogs …'

Wolfganger choked. Hamish warned him not to talk, but Helmut raised a hand. ‘It is all right, Doctor. This lady and I have things to discuss.'

A British Army lorry had been commandeered and that's when the shooting had happened. Erich hadn't been with them but two others had. Philip had had to be left behind, but had managed to walk away. Outside of Omagh, they had run into Kevin O'Bannion, Vice Admiral Huber and some others in a stolen butcher's van. Kevin had got them across the border and had delegated one of his men to guide them. Huber hadn't been wounded. Erich had, as Hamish had said, and was with them now, but Kevin had not been seen since.

‘They are very worried,' managed Wolfganger. ‘It appears to have all been for nothing.'

Telling him to rest, Mary thanked him for having been kind to her at Tralane. Things were now so crowded, she offered to crawl into one of the burial vaults, and when Helmut said he'd not mind joining her if that were possible, she did her best to make him comfortable, he holding her with a look.

‘They'll kill you, Mrs. Fraser. The vice admiral will not be able to stop them. Too much is at stake.'

‘Won't they take us to the island?' she asked in barely a whisper.

He took her by the hand. ‘I don't see how they can. There are at least seven of them in addition to Huber, Erich and the others. You'll be taken out and shot. The
Genickschuss
. The back of the neck. It's the way of this lousy war, or so I've heard my own have been doing in Poland and other places, the camps, too, that no one wishes to speak of.'

‘But Hamish …'

‘The others are either not wounded or not so badly. The doctor is of no further use once Horst and myself are gone.'

‘But Kevin …'

Had she some thought O'Bannion might have sympathy for her and the husband? ‘O'Bannion gave the order before he left us.'

Releasing his hand, Mary turned swiftly away. The roof of the burial vault was just above her, the walls with their carved spirals close, shadows flickering over them from the one candle she had brought with her from home and had lighted.

Crouching, she removed everything from her rucksack but the bomb. Shielding it from Helmut, she knelt looking at it for the longest time. In spite of knowing that they'd all be killed, she checked to see that the hands of the watch were where she'd set them. All that was really needed, then, was for her to push the stem in. Hopefully Kevin and Mrs. Tulford would soon arrive, but she'd have to wait until they did, would have to force herself to say nothing of this to Hamish, but just to be with him when it went off.

Putting the lid loosely back on the shortbread tin, she carefully repacked the rucksack, but left the straps undone.

Wolfganger wondered what she was up to and when he asked, she said, ‘Just some photographs and letters from home. I was going to take them out but decided not to. Memories, Helmut. I once had a child of my own. Louise … Her name was Louise.' The smell … had he noticed it?

Awakening with a start, she tried to swallow but couldn't. Hamish was gently shaking her. ‘It's time, isn't it?' she asked, her stomach in a knot. ‘Will they blindfold us?'

Fraser dropped his hands in defeat. Wolfganger must have told her what was to happen. ‘O'Bannion's here, Mary, with a German woman.'

‘Mrs. Tulford. … Has she her wireless set?'

He nodded. ‘They're trying to get through to Berlin.'

It would be late then. ‘What time is it?'

‘Nearly two a.m. Nolan's broken an ankle. Is there any surgical tape in your rucksack?'

She shook her head, wanted so much to hold him tightly but the burns were hurting terribly.

‘Lass, O'Bannion thinks you must have let someone know the location of the rendezvous. Was it Ria? Apparently the British Army have swarmed into Donegal; Dublin's calling it an act of war.'

‘Is Erich here now?'

‘Does it still matter?'

‘I need Huber, too. Darling, listen to me, please. I love you very much, that's all that counts.' Breaking away from him, she went in to the rucksack, felt for the watch and pushed in its stem, waited, but could not possibly have heard its ticking, said only, ‘Use this shirt of mine, Hamish. Tear it into strips.' Save Nolan, but only for a little.

O'Bannion was waiting for her in one of the lesser chambers. An arsenal of guns leaned against the far wall; two Irishmen she had never seen before were busy cleaning and oiling them and didn't even bother to look up.

Behind Kevin, Erich Kramer, Vice Admiral Huber and one other man stood in a tight circle about Ursula Tulford who was on her knees in front of the open suitcase that held her wireless set. There were numerous dials and switches. The set must weigh a lot, for the suitcase wasn't small. Again and again the woman sent a signal, pausing each time to listen intently through the earphones. An aerial wire had been strung along the roof of the passageway. O'Bannion told her to leave it alone or else. ‘Fay's out there with some others. I'll be along in a moment.'

Somehow she had to stall for time. Ten minutes … had ten passed since she had left Hamish? ‘Isn't Berlin receiving her signal?'

He pointed to the passageway and reluctantly Mary got down on all fours and crawled into it. Hamish wouldn't know what happened. The poor darling would be dead in an instant.

The night was cold, the wind bitter. There were stars in plenty, and the booming of the surf was much louder than before.