Have This One on Me

Five

Malik ripped open the brown paper parcel that had been found by Bruckman’s body. He glared at the two folded newspapers, then went through them rapidly to see if there was anything marked, then flung them to the floor.

He looked at Zernov who was nursing a heavily bandaged arm.

‘You killed a man for this?’

Only Smernoff who knew Malik well, realised how close Malik was to explosion point.

Suk who was with Zernov, said, ‘He was doing what he thought was right.’

Malik glared at him.

‘I wasn’t talking to you.’ He switched his green eyes to Zernov. ‘You killed a man for this?’

‘He shot at me,’ Zernov said sullenly. ‘I had no alternative.’

‘This is now an international incident,’ Malik said. ‘This man is one of Dorey’s agents. There will be an inquiry by the American Ambassador. This shooting will make headline news in the Capitalist press. By your stupidity, you have ruined the operation I have arranged. By turning on the light as you did, you have proved yourself a fool and utterly incompetent.’

Zernov’s flat, brutal face shone with sweat.

‘I... I thought...’ he stammered but Malik cut him short.

‘Thought? How can you think without a brain? Get out!’

Although Malik’s face was expressionless, his green eyes were so malevolent, Zernov recoiled. He hurriedly left the room.

Malik turned and looked at Suk.

‘That man must be punished. He is useless to you... do you understand?’

‘Yes.’

There was a pause, then Malik asked. ‘Where is Girland?’

Suk squinted at him.

‘Girland? I... I don’t know. He is being shadowed. What has he to do with this?’

‘Find out where he is! I want to know!’

As Suk made to pick up the telephone, Malik went on, ‘Go elsewhere! I need the telephone.’

‘Yes.’

Suk hurriedly left the room.

Malik closed his huge hands into fists. Smernoff watched him, feeling it was safer to say nothing. Malik remained still for a long moment, then he said: ‘What an operation! You allow Vlast to kill himself! That oaf kills one of Dorey’s best men! This woman Reid will be alerted! And then there’s Girland... can’t anything I order be carried out!’

‘So what do we do?’ Smernoff said. He found Malik’s tantrums boring.

Malik stared at him.

‘We pick up the girl and Girland. We’ll make them talk. I am now handling this myself. I can’t trust any of these fools!’

‘Suppose we wait for Suk’s report?’ Smernoff said, lighting a cigarette. ‘The girl is at the nightclub now. Her act comes on in fifty minutes. We have time. We can pick her up when she leaves.’

Malik contained himself with an effort.

‘Yes... give me a cigarette.’

‘Why don’t you buy your own cigarettes?’ Smernoff grumbled and handed over a pack of Benson & Hedges.

‘These are capitalist cigarettes,’ Malik said.

Smernoff grinned.

‘I like them. If you don’t want to smoke that kind of cigarette, why should I care?’

Malik lit the cigarette and tossed the pack back to Smernoff.

‘Why newspapers in a parcel?’ he said, thinking aloud. ‘Bruckman broke into the woman’s apartment. Let us imagine he was looking for something of value and this woman planted this parcel.’ He looked at the newspapers on the floor. ‘There might be a hidden message there. They must be examined.’

Suk came into the room, white-faced, his forehead moist.

‘They have lost him,’ he said, his voice despairing. ‘I had three men covering him... yet, they have lost him!’

Malik made a savage movement with his hand.

‘This will be reported Comrade Suk. Girland is not to leave the country. I hold you personally responsible. I want this man!’ Turning to Smernoff, he said, ‘We will now pick up the girl. She could tell us where Worthington is hiding. I want him too.’ He glared at Suk. ‘Have her apartment searched!’

He left the room, followed by Smernoff.

Suk mopped his face, the n picked up the telephone receiver. He began to give instructions to every frontier post, the airport and to the guards at the railway station.

‘This man must be detained,’ he kept saying. ‘There must be no mistake.’

Worthington was telling his story. He sat huddled down in the chair, facing Mala and Girland. His eyes were wide with alarm.

Hearing the shooting, he explained, he realised that very soon the police would arrive and search the apartment.

‘I packed some things for you,’ he said, looking at Mala. ‘We can’t go back. They will be looking for you now. They could come here.’

Girland was examining this tall, weak-looking Englishman. He asked himself what the hell he was getting into by being involved with a man like this.

‘How about the money?’ he asked, watching Worthington closely.

Worthington stiffened, then looked quickly at Mala.

‘I’ve told him,’ she said.

Worthington flinched. The money was terribly important to him. How could she have told a complete stranger that they had so much money?

‘I don’t understand... I...’

‘We’ll go into details later.’ Girland said crisply. ‘What’s happened to the money?’

Worthington hesitated and looked for guidance from Mala. Just how much, he wondered, had she told this man?

‘He knows about the money.’ Mala said impatiently.

Again Worthington hesitated, then said sullenly, ‘I have it in my suitcase.’

Girland drew in a long, slow breath.

‘That’s something... now, let’s get out of here. You know the district. Where do we go?’

Mala hesitated.

‘If we had a car... we could go to a friend of mine, Jan Braun. He has a farm.’

‘What’s so difficult about a car? We’ll borrow one. Okay, let’s go to your friend. Come on... is there a back way out?’

‘Yes...’ Mala was still hesitating.

‘Snap it up, baby. The fuse is burning.’

‘But I just can’t walk out...’

Girland caught hold of her arm.

‘Let’s go!’

Worthington, listening to all this, looking helplessly first at Girland and then at Mala, said, ‘He’s right. They could come here, looking for you.’

‘Today’s understatement,’ Girland said and bustled Mala out into the passage. ‘Lift your pretty feet. Where do we go?’

Galvanised by the hard urgency in his voice, she pulled away from him and ran down the passage to a door. She opened it and stepped out into a dark yard that opened out on to a small parking lot where a number of cars, owned by tourists, stood in a line.

Girland, followed by Worthington, carrying his suitcase, joined her. Girland looked at the line of cars.

‘Wait here,’ he said and moved quickly to the cars. He checked five of them before he found a Mercedes with the key in the ignition lock. He slid into the driving seat and turned on the parking lights, then he waved to Mala and Worthington to join him. They came across the parking lot at a run. Worthington got into the back seat and Mala scrambled in beside Girland who let in the clutch and drove out of the parking lot.

As he drove down the main street, he saw two police cars pull up outside the entrance to the arcade leading to the night club.

‘Nicely timed,’ he said and smiled at Mala. ‘Now where do we go?’

Mala directed him out of the City. She kept looking at him as he drove at a steady speed, taking no risks. His calm expression, the sardonic look in his eyes and his smile of relaxation gave her tremendous confidence.

As they crossed the Hiávkûv Bridge, Worthington said, ‘We can’t hope to get away. They’ll trace the car. We...’

‘Relax,’ Girland said. ‘The show isn’t over for another eighty minutes. This is a tourist’s car. It won’t be missed until the show is over, then the owner will have to report to the police Imagine the flap he’ll be in, trying to make himself understood. We have at least two hours’ start.’ He turned to Mala. She was really quite a doll, he thought. He began to warm to her. ‘Tell me about Jan Braun.’

Steadying her voice. Mala told him about Braun.

‘His farm is only thirty kilometres from here. He’ll help us... I am sure he will.’

‘That’s comforting. We need help, baby. We need a lot of help.’ They were climbing a steep hill out of the city. Girland went on, ‘So you got tired of Dorey?’ He was now speaking to Worthington. ‘I don’t blame you. I got tired of him months ago.’

Reacting to the understanding note in Girland’s voice, Worthington leaned forward.

‘It was when I heard that Malik had arrived,’ he said. ‘I knew...’

‘Malik?’ Girland’s voice shot up. ‘Did you say Malik?’

‘Yes.’

‘Is he in Prague?’

‘Yes... he is hunting for me.’

‘Phew!’ Girland grimaced. Watching him. Mala felt a stab of fear. For a brief moment, Girland looked startled and less confident He went on, ‘Malik and I are old pals. We love each other the way a mongoose loves a snake. Are you sure Malik is in Prague?’

‘Yes, I am sure.’

Girland slightly increased the speed of the car while he thought. He now realised the three of them were in deadly danger. He knew Malik. Where Malik was Smernoff was, and Smernoff was the Soviets’ top hunter of men. His long silence, while he thought, terrified both Mala and Worthington.

‘Tell me about Braun,’ Girland said finally. ‘Have you been seen with him? I know Malik. He will check on everyone who is in your circle. If he finds out you know a farmer he will check him right away.’

‘I haven’t seen Jan now for more than a year,’ Mala told him. ‘I’ve never mentioned him to any of my friends. I am sure he will help us because my father helped his father.’

‘Have you been to his farm?’

‘Once, about three years ago.’

‘What sort of place is it?’

‘It’s run down and lonely... really lonely.’

‘Is he on his own?’

‘He lives with his wife... Blanca.’

‘Can you trust her?’

‘Oh, yes. She is a wonderful woman.’

‘He has the usual outhouses?’

‘There are two big barns.’

Girland thought, then shrugged.

‘Okay, we’ll have to take a chance. I don’t see what else we can do. We might still need this car for a quick getaway. We could hide it in one of the barns.’ He increased speed.

Worthington listening to all this, resented and feared Girland This man was doing what he knew he should be doing. Worthington was also worried about the money in his suitcase. There was something about Girland that warned him Girland would take the money if he had the chance, and yet Worthington realised bitterly that if anyone could save him, it would be Girland.

Girland was sensitive to a hostile atmosphere. He had already realised that Worthington could become a nuisance. He also realised that this weak, tall man was desperately in love with Mala. This also might complicate the situation. He began to tell Worthington about Dorey’s plan to use him as a smokescreen, about Harry Moss, the money and why he had come to Prague.

‘Dorey was too smart. He planted on me a T.S. document by mistake,’ Girland concluded. ‘Now I’m landed with it. If I don’t get it back to him he’s through. I happen to have a soft spot for the old goat. He’s the salt in my stew.’ He laughed. ‘Life would be damn dull without him, so I’m going to get it back to him, but the operation will be tricky.’

‘Couldn’t you give it to the Ambassador?’ Mala asked. ‘He would get it back to Mr. Dorey.’

‘If I gave it to the Ambassador, he would read it. He would see that it was Dorey’s personal copy and he would want to know why it was in Prague. No, if I am to save Dorey’s hide, I have to get it back to him myself.’

‘You have it on you?’ Worthington asked, stiff with resentment.

Girland looked briefly at the thin, weak face he could see in the driving mirror.

‘I have it. I was going to swap it with Bruckman for the money. It would have been safe with him... he was Dorey’s man, but now Bruckman is dead, so it falls into my lap.’

There was a pause, then Worthington said, ‘This money belongs to me. Mala and I need it to get out of the country. You’re not having it. That must be understood.’

Here it comes, Girland thought, then said quietly, ‘Nothing should be understood until you get out. Just how do you plan to get out?’

‘That is my business!’ Worthington said. ‘I’m telling you this money is for Mala and me, and you’re not having it!’

Girland slowed the car, then brought it to a standstill. As he swung around in his seat, he found himself confronted by Worthington’s automatic Worthington, white faced, his eyes wild, threatened Girland with the gun.

‘Give me that document!’ Worthington said, his voice shrill and out of control. ‘We don’t want you with us! Give it to me!’

Girland stared at him then swinging around, he shoved his foot down on the accelerator.

‘Drop dead,’ he said as the car took off and began to roar down the long, dark road.

‘Stop or I’ll... I’ll...’ Worthington began helplessly as the car flew down the road at over 120 kilometres an hour.

‘Go ahead and shoot,’ Girland said calmly. ‘It’ll be a lovely smash.’

Listening to all this Mala lost patience.

‘Stop it. Alec! Can’t you see he is the only one who can save us! Stop behaving so stupidly!’

Worthington wilted. The cold contempt in her voice told him as nothing else could just how useless she thought him.

He returned his gun to its holster and huddled down in his seat.

Girland said, ‘Relax, pal. We all get worked up from time to time. There’ll be lots of time to arrange who gets what and who gets who.’

‘You’re not having the money!’ Worthington said weakly. ‘You may...’

‘I told you to stop it!’ Mala cried, swinging around in her seat and waving her hands at Worthington who subsided into sullen silence.

The car sped on along the narrow, deserted road. The moon lit the distant hills and the forests on either side of the road. They drove for some twenty minutes, then Mala said, ‘It is quite close now.’

Girland slowed the car.

‘Just here. There’s a turning to the left,’ Mala said, sitting forward.

Girland brought the car to a stop as he swung left into a narrow lane.

‘Go to the farm,’ he said. ‘Tell your friend you have company. We must be sure of a welcome. If he doesn’t want us, we’ll have to think where else to go.’

‘I’m sure it’s all right to drive up. I know he will want to help us,’ Mala said.

Girland smiled at her.

‘I’m not, and I’m of thin charge e operation. Go on, baby, walk.’

Mala got out of the car, hesitated, then started up the lane.

Worthington said angrily, ‘You can’t order her about like that! Who do you think you are?’

Girland turned, his eyes bleak.

‘I’m getting bored with you. You haven’t a hope in hell of getting this girl nor yourself out of the country. If anyone can do it, I can, so shut up!’

Worthington made a move to draw his gun. His reflexes were so slow that Girland had his own gun in his hand before Worthington could touch his gun butt.

‘Get out of the car!’ Girland said. ‘Quick... before I knock you off!’

Flinching from the threat of the gun, Worthington stumbled out of the car. Girland joined him in the narrow lane, keeping him covered.

‘I’ve had more than enough from you,’ he said. ‘Turn around and drop your gun!’

Worthington hurriedly obeyed. The gun dropped on to the grass verge.

‘Walk forward!’

As Worthington moved a few steps, Girland picked up his gun. He unloaded it and dropped the cartridges into his pocket.

‘Here,’ he said, and as Worthington turned, Girland tossed the gun to him. ‘It’s safer for both of us unloaded.’

Worthington put the gun back into its holster. His face was pale and his eyes showed his humiliation.

‘Now behave,’ Girland went on. ‘I’m handling this operation. You’re just part of the scenery... get it?’

Worthington muttered something and turned away.

In silence the two men waited by the Mercedes for Mala to return.

Suk could scarcely conceal his satisfaction that so important a man as Malik had let Mala Reid slip through his fingers.

He sat by the desk watching Malik who was poring over a large-scale map of the district. Malik’s eyebrows were drawn down in an ominous frown. It was impossible, he kept assuring himself, that this woman could get out of the country. When they did catch her, he would make her sorry. This was something he would attend to personally.

There came a tap on the door and Smernoff came in.

‘Girland with her,’ he announced as he closed the door. ‘There is a second man... from the description I have it must be Worthington.’

Malik sat back.

‘Girland... are you sure?’

‘A waiter at the night club took a man to a private booth. From his description, there is no doubt that it is Girland. He sent Reid a card saying he was interested in buying her angel. Some minutes later, a tall Englishman joined them. The waiter saw them all leave by the back way which leads to a car park. A Mercedes car is missing.’ Smernoff rattled off his report, his flat, black eyes watching Malik’s reaction. ‘There is a wooden angel in Reid’s apartment.’

‘You have the number of the Mercedes?’

‘I have it here.’ Smernoff put a slip of paper on the desk.

Malik gestured to Suk.

‘Trace this car!’

Taking the slip of paper, Suk rushed out of the room.

There was a pause, then Malik said, ‘Have you searched her apartment?’

‘Of course.’ Smernoff pulled up a chair and sat astride it, resting his thick arms on the chair’s back. ‘Worthington has been hiding there. We found his fingerprints and some of his clothes. Bruckman’s prints are on this wooden angel. The head comes off and there is a hollow space in the body. Something was obviously hidden there... probably, the brown paper parcel.’

Malik thought for a long moment, then he said, ‘They have a fast car. They will have left the city. It is possible they will make for the frontier. The German border is the nearest, but they could make for the Austrian border... the crossing there is much easier.’

Smernoff shrugged.

‘I am having Reid’s dossier checked. It is unlikely they will try to cross the frontier immediately. It’s my guess they will go into hiding, and when they think the search has slackened, then they will make their attempt. We must find their hiding place. I’ll see what her dossier has to tell us.’

Malik nodded, and as Smernoff moved to the door, Malik said, ‘We have to find them. I don’t have to tell you what it will mean if they escape.’

Smernoff grinned evilly.

‘What makes you think they can escape?’

He went out, shutting the door.

Ten minutes later as Malik was again examining the map, Suk came in.

‘The car was seen crossing Hiávûv Bridge,’ he reported. ‘There is no further news of it. There were three people in the car: a man driving, a woman by his side and another man at the back.’

Malik looked up, his eyes menacing.

‘Your job Comrade, is to see they don’t cross the frontier. I don’t care how many men you use! These three must not cross the frontier!’

‘I am arranging that now,’ Suk said. ‘They won’t get across.’

Malik dismissed him with an impatient wave of his hand. When Suk had gone, Malik lit a cigarette and stared into space. He was furious with himself. He should have arrested the girl when Smernoff had warned him that Cain was interested in her. He had played it too smart. Savagely, he cursed Girland. He could imagine how Kovski, his boss, would react. The two men hated each other. Up to now, Malik had always been in an unassailable position. He had never made a mistake, but he knew he had made one now and Kovski would take advantage of it.

He was still sitting at the desk an hour later when Smernoff came into the room.

‘We have a possible clue,’ Smernoff said and laid a snapshot on the desk. ‘This was found in a photograph album we took from Reid’s apartment.’

Malik studied the photograph. It showed Mala and a young heavily built man standing side by side. The man was wearing jeans, a check shirt and mud-caked boots. Behind them was a low built farm house. To their right were two big barns.

Malik looked up.

‘So?’

‘A lonely farm would be an ideal hiding place. It is worth checking,’ Smernoff said. ‘During the revolution, Reid’s father and a farmer named Braun were executed as traitors. His son, Jan Braun, is also a farmer.’

Malik kicked away his chair and jumped to his feet.

‘You know where the farm is?’

‘Thirty kilometres from here.’

‘Get men.’

‘I have three police cars waiting. There are twelve men with automatic weapons ready to go.’

‘If Girland is with them, we need three times as many men,’ Malik said. ‘Arrange it!’

‘If you say so,’ Smernoff said, shrugging, and reached for the telephone.

There was no comfort in the big, shabby room with its oak beams, its stone floors and rough deal furniture. The big open fireplace that dominated the room was smoke blackened and a large pile of white ash from previous fires still filled the grate.

Looking around, Girland thought it would be an icebox in the winter. He, Mala and Worthington were on upright chairs facing Jan Braun and his wife who were sitting on a long deal bench, their back to the fireplace.

Jan Braun was a heavily built man in his early thirties. His round, fleshy face, his firm mouth and steady slate grey eyes inspired confidence.

Blanca, his wife, was some five years younger: a blonde girl with a plain, serious face, slimly built, and who radiated a serene calmness that pleased Girland. He was sure she could be relied on in any emergency.

The Brauns were wearing well-worn jeans and black wind-cheaters. They had been in bed when Mala had hammered on the farmhouse door. She had told them that she and two friends were in trouble, would they help? They hadn’t hesitated. While Mala had run back down the lane, they had scrambled into their clothes. Jan had opened the doors of one of the barns and Girland had driven the Mercedes under cover.

Girland was now doing the talking.

‘You don’t want to know too much about this operation,’ he was saying. ‘The less you know, the safer for you two and for us. We must get across the frontier. This is a top priority: a treble must with all kinds of international explosions if we don’t. So I repeat: we must get across the frontier. We have a G.R.U. agent — the best there is — after us. Money is no object. We have plenty of that, and we will buy our way out if it can be arranged.’

Jan studied Girland, then shook his head.

‘It won’t be money that will get you across the frontier,’ he said quietly. ‘It will be luck. None of you has a hope of passing through the police control with a false passport. That is a pipe dream. The frontier restrictions between here and Austria have been eased recently, but they still have the organisation to make a shut-down at a moment’s notice. If your G.R.U. agent thinks you are important enough, he can call out troops, and the whole frontier will be completely sealed.’ He paused and then went on, ‘But there is a place where a crossing is possible. It is some hundred and thirty kilometres from here. It will mean walking. The going will be rough. A four-day journey, averaging thirty kilometres a day.’

Girland grimaced. He couldn’t imagine Mala walking that distance.

‘Can’t we use a car?’

‘They will be watching the roads. No, it would be too risky. The only safe way is to walk, and to keep off the roads.’

Quick to realise how useful Jan would be to them, Girland said, ‘Suppose you two come with us. We could finance you. Why not?’

Jan and Blanca exchanged glances.

‘We couldn’t do that,’ Jan said, but there was doubt in his voice.

‘Do you want to live here forever? What’s your future in this country? Once out, you can make a fresh start.’ Girland looked around the shabby room. ‘You’ve got nothing here, have you... you’re getting nowhere, are you? Here’s my proposal: we have thirty thousand dollars. There are five of us. I suggest we split the money five ways. You will get twelve thousand. With that kind of money, you could make a fresh start in Austria... Germany... France... anywhere you like.’

Worthington clutched hold of his suitcase.

‘You have no right to make such an offer!’ he exclaimed wildly. ‘This money doesn’t belong to you... it belongs to Mala and me!’

The four looked at him, then Mala said quietly, ‘It doesn’t belong to us Alec. Please don’t be stupid.’

‘You’re always telling me that I’m stupid!’ Worthington cried hysterically. ‘Can’t you see, I’m trying to protect your interests? This money...’

‘Alec! Will you please stop this!’ Mala said. She got to her feet and crossed to Worthington. ‘Give me the suitcase.’

Worthington looked hopelessly at her and then gave her the suitcase.

‘Take it,’ he said, his voice shaking with emotion. ‘You are giving away your future. You think I am stupid, but it is you who don’t realise what you are doing.’

‘Yes, I do... we are buying our freedom,’ Mala said and pointing to the suitcase, she went on to Girland, ‘The money’s there. You deal with it.’

Girland nodded. To Jan he said, ‘Twelve thousand dollars — it’s yours if you take us across the frontier. It’s up to you if you return here or not.’

Jan hesitated, then got to his feet.

‘We must discuss this,’ he said. ‘Excuse us,’ and putting his hand on Blanca’s arm, he led her from the room.

Girland opened the suitcase and found the packet of money.

‘These two know the country,’ he said to Mala. ‘They speak the language and they know how we can get out. We can’t do without them... that’s why I’m offering them the money.’

Mala nodded.

‘Yes, of course... I understand.’

‘You can afford to give the money away,’ Worthington said bitterly. ‘It’s easy for you. You can blackmail Dorey for three times the amount you are giving away.’

Girland regarded him with unconcealed impatience.

‘If you feel so strongly about it, you can get the hell out of here. Your share is on the table... six thousand dollars. You don’t have to come with us. Take your share and go back to Prague.’

Worthington glowered at him.

‘You know I can’t do that!’

‘Why should I care what you do? You have your share — do what you like, but if you come with us, you will pull your weight and you’ll stop being a pest!’

Worthington turned to Mala.

‘This man is a crook. Can’t you see that? He has already taken the money that belongs to you. He...’

‘The money doesn’t belong to me!’ Mala said, her voice exasperated. ‘Will you stop talking this nonsense!’

Worthington looked helplessly at her, then shrugged in despair.

‘Very well... then I will say nothing.’

While this was going on, Girland was looking around the room, bored with Worthington. He saw on the overmantel a framed photograph. He glanced at it, then away, then stiffening, he got to his feet and walked over to the photograph to examine it closely. It was of Mala and Jan with the farm building and the farmhouse in the background. He turned quickly.

‘This photograph... have you got a copy of it?’

Mala looked at the photograph and realised at once what he was thinking. She turned white.

‘Yes... it’s in an album at my apartment.’

Girland lifted his hands.

‘Well, that’s it then.’ He went to the door. ‘Hey, you two! Come back here!’

Jan and Blanca came from the bedroom. As they entered the living-room, Jan said, ‘We have decided. We will come with you.’

Girland smiled crookedly.

‘You now have no choice.’ He pointed to the photograph. ‘Mala has this in her apartment. They will find it. It won’t take them long to identify the farm. They could be here in a couple of hours. We have to get moving. Here, take your share.’ He gave Jan a packet of the dollar bills. ‘Come on, we must get moving.’

Jan stared at the money, then hurriedly put it in his hip pocket.

‘Blanca...’ He waved to Mala. ‘She can’t travel in those clothes. Find her something. I’ll get things together,’ and he hurried out of the room.

Putting her arm around Mala’s shoulders, Blanca said, ‘He’s right. Come with me. I’ll see what I can find for you.’ The two girls went into the bedroom.

Girland and Worthington eyed each other. Worthington started to say something, but the bored look in Girland’s eyes stopped him. Girland lit another cigarette and then waved to the money on the table.

‘Take your share, and listen, while we have a moment together. If I have any further trouble with you, you won’t know what’s hit you. This is tricky enough without you trying to gum up the works.’

Worthington flushed. With an unsteady hand he took his share of the money and put it in his pocket.

Girland grinned at him.

‘Relax. Don’t look so tragic. If we’re going to save our skins, we’ve all got to work together.’

Worthington walked over to the window and stared out into the dark night. Girland eyed him, then shrugged. After a ten-minute wait, Jan came back with three bulging rucksacks.

‘I’ve collected all the food we have... there’s some canned stuff, candles, soap, matches and a blanket each... it’ll have to do,’ he said, dropping the rucksacks on the floor. ‘We have a long hike.’

Blanca and Mala came into the room. Mala was wearing a pair of faded jeans, a sweater and stout walking shoes. Girland thought the shabby clothes set off her figure very well.

‘What’s the first move?’ Girland asked as he gave Mala her share of the money.

‘I have a hut in the hills,’ Jan said. ‘We’ll go there first. It is ten kilometres from here. Once there, we’ll be safe to make plans. I have maps and can show you the route we will have to take.’ He put the two big paper bags on the table. ‘This is pepper. They will have tracker dogs with them. Sooner or later, I knew we would have to go on the run and I’ve been hoarding pepper for months. We’ll walk in single file. I go first.’ He looked at Girland. ‘You will be last. You take the pepper. Scatter it carefully behind you. It should last at least two kilometres... that will be enough. Now, let’s go.’

Five minutes later, the five of them started across the rough grass in single file. Girland had made a tiny hole in one of the paper bags and was allowing the pepper to fall behind him. Soon, away from the farm, they began to climb through a forest of firs. The tree-studded, rocky slope leading up to the hill was hard going. Jan set the pace, and Mala had trouble in keeping up. Blanca used to this kind of climbing, swung along easily. Every now and then Girland had to come forward to help Mala.

Worthington climbed sullenly behind Jan without looking back. He carried his suitcase awkwardly. He was dismayed and furious that Girland should have split the money the way he had. Twelve thousand dollars to these two small-time farmers! It was ridiculous! They would have been happy with a third of such a sum, he kept thinking.

They branched off on to a narrow path, coming out of the forest, and Jan began to move even faster. After climbing for ten minutes or so Mala wailed, ‘I must stop... I can’t go on!’

The party paused. Jan looked impatiently at her.

‘We still have some way to go.’

‘Look!’ Girland said and pointed down the hill.

Away in the distance they could see the narrow lane, like a white ribbon in the moonlight, that led to the farm house. Coming up the lane were cars, looking like toys from that distance... ten of them, strung out and moving fast.

‘Here they come!’ Girland said and yanked Mala to her feet. ‘Come on, baby!’

Galvanised by the tone of his voice Mala started after the others. Stumbling, sweating and panting, the small party struggled upwards until they reached a plateau where they had an uninterrupted view of the farm far below. They could see lights showing at every window and ant-like figures moving around the farm and the outbuildings.

‘The pepper’s finished,’ Girland said.

‘It’ll be enough,’ Jan returned. ‘This next bit is rough. Let’s take it easy... it leads to the hut.’

He began to force his way through the undergrowth, off the path, and the others followed. If Girland hadn’t constantly helped Mala, she would never have made the climb. Worthington, sulking and still furious, didn’t look back although he knew Mala was in difficulties. Finally, after an exhausting half hour’s climb they came to a log cabin, set on a plateau, overhung with trees. It was practically invisible until they came right on it.

‘This is it,’ Jan said and unlocked the cabin door. ‘It’s not much, but it will be safe.’

Blanca took a torch from her rucksack and lit the way in.

The big room was damp and smelt musty. There was a table, a few stools and four bunks on the walls.

While Jan was lighting the candles. Mala, scarcely able to drag one foot after the other, headed for one of the bunks.

‘Don’t lie in that!’ Blanca said sharply. ‘There could be a snake in there!’

Mala lost her fatigue so quickly as she sprang back that Girland burst out laughing.

‘Okay, baby, I’ll look,’ he said and taking the torch, he examined the bunk, turning the mattress cautiously. ‘Not a snake... a spider or two, but no snakes.’

Mala shuddered and sat on a stool. Worthington stood by the door, still holding his suitcase, his thin face tight with fatigue, his eyes hostile and suspicious.

Girland unpacked the rucksacks and got the blankets while Jan started a fire in the small grate. Blanca joined Girland and found coffee, a tin of powdered milk, mugs and a saucepan.

Ten minutes later, they were all sitting around the table, sipping strong, scalding coffee and trying to relax.

By now the fire had caught hold and the dry logs were spitting and blazing, sending a cheerful glow around the dimly — lit room. Girland passed his pack of Pall Mall around the table. Mala took one gratefully. Both Jan and Blanca shook their heads. Worthington hesitated, then shoved the pack back to Girland. He lit his own cigarette. The warmth and the coffee acted as an antidote to their aching muscles.

Jan took a map from his pocket and spread it on the table.

‘This is the way we have to go,’ he said, ‘If we could go by road and in a car, it would be half a day’s journey, but the way we have to go, will be tough.’

He traced the journey with a thick finger. To Mala, watching, it seemed his finger went on forever across the map before it finally stopped at the Czech-Austrian frontier.

‘We cross here, if we have any luck,’ Jan went on. He paused and tilted back his chair. ‘I’ll tell you what the frontier is like. First, you have the watchtowers, equipped with men, a machine gun, signal rockets, searchlights and a radio telephone. These men have an uninterrupted view as all trees, shrubs and other obstructions have been cleared for seventy metres. The ground approaching the towers has been made into a seed bed and is raked every day so that footprints can clearly be seen. Beyond this seedbed is a barbed wire fence, wired with alarm signals. Then there is a strip of ground sown with anti-personnel mines. Then there is a second fence which is electrified. All this sounds like an impossible barrier... it is, but there is one place where we can get through... by using an airshaft in a disused copper mine. Not so long ago, I took a friend through and he got into Austria, but there was no alert out for him as there is for us. This is going to be a very dangerous, tricky operation, but I think... given a lot of luck it is possible.’

Girland studied the map. Finally, he looked at Jan.

‘When do we start?’

‘We should stay here for at least four days,’ Jan said. ‘By now the whole frontier will have been alerted. I know the Czech troops... most of them are boys. For four days, they will be on the alert, then they will get bored and that will be the time to make the crossing.’

‘Is it safe to remain here for four days?’

Jan lifted his shoulders.

‘I think so. We are well concealed here. My neighbours don’t know I have this cabin. I built it two years ago, knowing that sooner or later, we would have to get out. Yes, I think we can stay here safely.’

‘Okay,’ Girland said. ‘Let’s get organised. We three men should keep watch. Four hours each. I’ll take the first watch.’

‘Yes,’ Jan said, nodding. ‘I’ll relieve you. Then our friend here can relieve me.’

Worthington nodded sullenly and moving away, began to prepare himself for bed.

Jan and Girland exchanged glances. Girland grimaced, then, as Jan began to feed more logs onto the fire, he went out in to the darkness to begin his watch.

Smernoff walked over to where Malik was waiting by one of the police cars.

‘They’ve laid a pepper trail,’ he said in a cold, flat voice. ‘The dogs can’t pick up the scent. They can’t have gone far, but we have no idea in which direction they have gone.’

Malik’s green eyes glittered. He wasn’t interested in excuses.

‘This is your job,’ he said, a rasp in his voice. ‘They must not cross the frontier! You can have as many men as you need. They will walk. They won’t use the roads. I don’t have to tell you this.’ He regarded Smernoff, his expression cold and aloof. ‘Find these people. I am returning to the Ministry.’ He got into the police car and told the driver to take him back to Prague.

Smernoff watched the car drive away. He grinned. For eight years he had hunted men and women, and he had yet failed to find them. He knew Malik was worried. This amused him. Malik was always thinking of his reputation. He worried that one day Kovski, who hated him, would ruin him. Malik minded about being ruined. Smernoff was too tough and indifferent to worry about such mundane things. His job was to hunt people. If he failed, then he didn’t deserve to hold his job. It was as simple as that.

He walked over to where Suk was waiting.

‘At dawn there must be at least three helicopters combing the hills. See to it! I want now to talk to Captain Kuhlan.’

Kuhlan, a young, ardent Communist, delighted to have orders from such a man as Smernoff, came hurrying up.

‘Come with me,’ Smernoff said and walked to the farm house. He spread out a large scale map of the district on the table. He produced a compass and inserting the needle end into the spot on the map that showed the farmhouse, he drew a circle. Suk had joined them and was standing a little behind Smernoff, listening and watching. ‘We have two alternatives to consider,’ Smernoff said, sitting back and looking at the young Captain. ‘They will either make immediately for the frontier or they will hide up somewhere and wait until they imagine the search for them has died down. It is my opinion, they will wait. Somewhere within this circle they will hide. Tomorrow there will be aircraft searching this area. Your job is to move enough men so this circle is encircled. In this way, they will be trapped.’ He pushed the map across the table. ‘Study the ground, then arrange for as many men as you need to make a tight circle... I mean tight. Do you understand?’

‘Yes, Comrade Smernoff,’ Kuhlan said and began to study the map.

Smernoff watched him, pleased with his obvious eagerness. This young blond man was like a tracker dog hunting for a scent as he bent over the map.

Suk said, ‘It is only a matter of time.’ His voice rang with a false confidence. ‘They can’t possibly get across the frontier.’

Smernoff ignored him. He continued to watch Kuhlan. After five minutes of careful study Kuhlan straightened.

‘I’ll arrange the operation,’ he said briskly. ‘I know the district well. I know just how many men will be needed. By eight o’clock tomorrow morning they will be in position.’

Smernoff showed his teeth in a menacing smile.

‘They must be in position by daybreak... by six o’clock at the latest.’

‘Very well Comrade Smernoff,’ Kuhlan said and he hurriedly left the room.