Uncommon Enemy (30 page)

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Authors: John Reynolds

BOOK: Uncommon Enemy
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She touched the large piece of sticking plaster above his left eye.

“Are you hurt?”

“No not really. Just fairly shaken up.”

She touched her fingers to his lips. “Take your time. Tell me from the beginning.”

“OK,” he responded.

Continuing to run his hand lightly through her hair he gazed down at her. Lit by the faint light from a small high window she looked pale and drawn but the lovely contours of her face, framed by her dark hair took his breath away. Gently he ran his hand down the left side of her face and continued in a soft voice.

“The library doors are locked and a notice has been put outside stating that it’s closed today for stocktaking so we should be OK, as long as we’re quiet.”

“Alright, but for heaven’s sake tell me how you got here, how you-----.”

He chuckled.

“Rose from the dead?”

“Exactly.”

“Yesterday, when you’d all gone down to hide in the Albany Ritz we managed to keep the soldiers at bay for a few minutes. Then Tony took a shot in the shoulder. I took a quick look over the windowsill and I saw three of the soldiers running forward with stick grenades. I knew I had no time to shoot them all at once and so I dived into the centre of the woolshed. Just as I hit the floor the grenades came splintering through the doorway and exploded near me. I was stunned for a few moments. When I came to I realized that I was half under the bodies of two of our chaps.”

Carol shuddered.

“How awful.”

“Yes, it was pretty grim but it probably saved my life. I had received a cut on my head, which bled quite heavily, over my face. The grenade concussions must have lifted the bodies so that they landed half on top of me. So there I was my face covered in blood lying under a couple of bleeding corpses. I passed out again and was woken to the sound of the soldiers’ heavy footsteps. I felt pretty sick so didn’t have too much trouble playing dead. It sounds logical now, but at the time I was scared stiff, particularly when the soldiers started checking the bodies. But it worked. When they shone their light on me I was literally frozen with fear and managed to lie there without moving. Beavis cursed foully when he saw me but then told his men to get on with finding any survivors.”

“Meanwhile I was downstairs with the others terrified at what had happened to you.”

“I must have passed out again. Next thing I remember was hearing a scream.”

“It was me.”

“Yes.” He kissed the top of her head. “The thundering of the rain on the roof drowned out just about everything. I kept drifting in an out of consciousness and the next thing I heard were the soldiers. They sat down near me and began talking. I went hot and cold when they started grumbling about Beavis’s treatment of the girl prisoner as it was obviously you. Then, in spite of the rain, they heard you scream and immediately hurried downstairs. I remember lifting my head to try and see what was happening but I immediately had another dizzy spell and passed out. Next thing I remember was hearing you talking to the soldiers. It seemed pretty obvious that they were going to help you and consequently I was very tempted to reveal myself.”

She smiled grimly.

“The soldiers were really on edge. They’d have shot instinctively if a blood-soaked apparition had suddenly emerged from under the corpses.”

“That’s what I thought, so against all my instincts I just had to lie there. But, in my own defence, I was feeling as sick as a dog and wouldn’t have been any use to you anyway.”

This time she kissed him lightly.

“Then what happened?”

“Once you left I slid out from under the bodies. I was trembling badly, my head was throbbing like hell, and I threw up several times. I then approached the farmhouse very cautiously and, once I was sure that it was deserted, went in and started to get myself cleaned up. Five of the chaps from sheep pen guard squad then turned up. They’d successfully ambushed a Blitzkrieg Boys patrol but as it was obvious that the farm had been identified so all of us decided to leave straight away. We used the radio to contact another support group.”

“How did you get away?”

“We used the Lucas Creek escape route.”

She nodded knowingly and smiled.

“Go on.”

“There was a small amount of moonlight so we were able to make good progress in the two boats and by early morning rendezvoused with reps from the university group – one of them was the chap that I first met by the notice board. I was
desperately worried about you and in the hope that you’d gone to Aunt Catherine’s, I arranged for a message to be immediately dropped off and----.”

“We both know the rest of the story.” She reached up towards him with both arms. “Kiss me, just to prove again that this isn’t a dream.”

The kiss was slow and lingering, a heady mixture of longing, relief, reassurance and passion. Feeling herself becoming rapidly overwhelmed, Carol pulled her head back and placed her fingers lightly on Stuart’s lips.

“Wait a moment.”

“Christ, I want you. Carol!” Stuart’s voice was urgent.

“Me too, but I still need some answers.”

He sighed and smiled.

“Very well, but make it short and snappy.”

“OK. First question. Our families. They must be worried sick.”

“True. I’ve arranged for them both to be contacted by our people just to inform them that we’re alive and well and that we send our love and hope to arrange a meeting with them some time soon. Clearly we can’t write or phone but at least that will reassure them in the interim.”

“I do miss them, Stuart.”

“So do I. More than I thought I would. Hopefully, if the situation improves, we’ll be able to arrange something more substantial in the future.”

She stared at the ceiling for a long moment, sighed deeply and looked back at him.

“The other thing is----,” she began and then paused.

“Yes?”

“Brendan and Susan. I was so traumatized by what had happened to you that I didn’t give them a thought until the next morning when I woke up at Aunt Catherine’s.” She shuddered. “I just can’t bear to think that they’re dead.”

“Brendan’s not,” he replied softly.

“Brendan. Not dead?” Her eyes were wide.

“No. When the five chaps who’d been stationed near the sheep pens turned up they did a final check of the woolshed to see if anyone was alive. Two of them also went downstairs.”

He paused and sighed deeply.

“Stuart, go on.” Her voice was low but impatient.

“They found Brendan and Susan lying crumpled in a corner behind several others who were dead. There was so much blood and muck around that at first they thought they were both dead. Susan’s body was badly damaged from the explosion--------.”

Carol shuddered

“And Brendan’s face was covered in blood. He didn’t respond to the light of the torch and they thought he was dead. Just to be sure one of the soldiers felt for his pulse on the side of his neck and he stirred, moaned and tried to get up.”

He paused again.

“Go on, Stuart,” said Carol impatiently.

“They helped him up and got him to his feet.”

“So he could walk?”

“Yes.” His voice faltered. “But they had to lead him.”

She frowned.

“Lead him?”

“Yes. It’s awful. The explosion made him blind.”

“Brendan. Blind. Oh, God.”

Gently caressing the back of her neck he continued. “He’s safe and you’ll be able to see him later tonight. He’s lost a lot of his old spark, having to come to terms with his blindness, not to mention Susan’s death and his guilt at hurting her. He’s going to need a lot of support.”

“Later tonight?”

“Yes. I’ve arranged-----.”

“Before you tell me any more, when our men were downstairs did they come across the professor.”

“Yes they came across him straight away, still in his cubicle.” Stuart briefly shook his head. “He was dead. He was unmarked – must have just passed away in his sleep.”

“That wonderful old man.” Carol stared unseeingly at the ceiling and then back at Stuart. “What about Hamish?”

“No. As soon as our men found Brendan alive and managed to bring him upstairs we all forgot about anything or anyone else.”

“The two soldiers who helped me shot him in the leg, gagged him tied him up and left him in our room. Nobody heard anything?”

“No. If he was alive he did the sensible thing and kept very quiet.”

“So he’s still there?”

Stuart shrugged. “Who knows? Who cares?” He kissed her gently on the forehead. “You’re here and that’s the most important thing, my sweet.”

“And what about the two German girls, Sophie and Gretchen?”

“No idea. They were in the farmhouse so might have avoided the attack on the woolshed. They weren’t in the farmhouse when I got there. Let’s hope they managed to get away and somehow link up with the university group.”

“Yes. I don’t fancy their chances if they’re caught by the German authorities. They’re not known for their benevolence to people who betray them.”

Carol reached up to touch his cheek.

“You said that I’d see Brendan tonight.”

“Yes. I’ve arranged for us to be picked up after dark. We’re then being taken by car to rendezvous with a Fightback division in the Waitakere Ranges. It’s more rugged and remote than Albany and therefore also safer. Resistance is beginning to spread, so from there we’re going to re-group and develop a longer-range strategy.”

“Picked up after dark? Hmm. It’s still daylight.” Her voice was soft and her eyes were glinting.

“Yes. As I said----.”

Her urgent mouth was on his and stayed there as he lowered her quickly onto the carpet. Their mutual hunger was intensified by the gamut of emotions that they’d both undergone in the previous twenty-four hours. As Stuart thrust sharply into her Carol winced, gasped and clung to him, her moaning coming from the very depths of her being. Her nails dug deeply into his back as she joined him in a long delirious rhythm.

They both lay back breathing hoarsely. Stuart, lifting his head from beside her face looked down at her and chuckled softly.

“Good heavens, girl, you’ve still got half your clothes on.”

She moved her hand back under his shirt. “So have you. You’re not a gentleman. Just an animal.”

They lay together for a few minutes in mutual contentment and then kissed again.

This time their lovemaking was languorous and gentle. Afterwards, having dressed, they nestled side-by-side. Stuart looked up at the window.

“The sun’s starting to go down, my sweet,” he murmured. “Our pick up will be here soon.”

“Another step into the unknown,” she replied thoughtfully.

Suddenly she stiffened.

“Stuart,” she whispered. “There’s somebody out there.”

The scratching sound by the door was barely audible.

“It’s the keyhole,” whispered Carol.

“Quick,” hissed Stuart pointing across the room. “Over to that side of the door. I’ll stand on this side.”

They were both about to move when the door abruptly opened and a figure stood silhouetted in the doorway.

“Stuart, Carol, are you in here?”

“Gretchen,” gasped Carol. ”Quickly, come in and shut the door.”

The young German woman stepped into room and closed the door.

“Good evening,” she said quietly. “I am very pleased to have found you.”

“How did you escape?” asked Stuart.

“How did you know we were here?” added Carol.

“I have my sources. And of course, you will remember that I too am an accredited member of Fightback.”

The harshness in Gretchen’s tone and a change in her speech pattern caused Stuart to ask carefully, “Were you sent here with a message?”

“Yes, in a manner of speaking.” She laughed and in a rapid movement reached into her shoulder bag and produced a small Walther PPK pistol. “Both of you stand back against the wall. Now!”

“You traitor,” hissed Carol. “Susan was right. She never trusted you.”

“Easy, Carol,” said Stuart quietly. Watching the German woman intently he moved slowly back against the wall. “Just do as she says.”

“That’s the intelligent thing to do, Stuart.” Gretchen repeated her short, mirthless laugh. “After al, your choices are somewhat limited.”

“Your English has shown a remarkable improvement,” replied Stuart. “And I’m sure it’s not due to your being a linguistic genius.”

“Your perception does you credit,” she responded sarcastically.

“And your being a Jew? Was that also a lie?” asked Carol.

“Me? Jewish?” She spat on the floor.

“Was it through you that the soldiers knew we were going to try and rescue the professor?” asked Stuart coldly.

“Yes,” she replied. Her pistol hand was steady. “But when you escaped and took us to your headquarters I decided that my inside knowledge would be very useful to my people.”

“And Sophie? Was she in on it?”

“Sophie?” She gave a short laugh. “No. She never guessed. She was far too idealistic. Obviously it clouded her judgment.”

“And Brendan? Was he part of your grand strategy?”

Gretchen shifted slightly.

“I was fond of him, of course. And I needed an ally in the Fightback group. He was the obvious one.” She gave a thin smile. “He was, as you say in English, ‘a pushover’.”

“And the attack on the farmhouse. Did you help with that too?”

Gretchen nodded.

“You bitch,” whispered Carol. “All those people, our friends, now dead.”

“There are always casualties in war,” replied Gretchen softly. Her voice rose. “But the sacrifices were necessary for the greater good of the Third Reich’s New Order.”

Carol locked eyes with the German woman. Her voice was slow and deliberate.

“Brendan is still alive.” In a barely audible whisper she added, “But as the result of his injuries, he’s gone permanently blind.”

Gretchen’s left hand covered her mouth and her pistol hand began to tremor.

“Take it easy, Carol.” Stuart’s voice was low.

“Be silent!” Abruptly Gretchen gestured sideways with her pistol. “Both of you are to walk towards the door. You will then walk up the path to Princes Street. I’ll be right behind you.” The hoarseness in her voice betrayed her tension. “If you try to run I’ll shoot you-in the back if necessary.” She gestured again. “You first, Stuart.”

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