Midnight Never Comes

15

Sitting in the cockpit of the Beaver beside von Bayern, a chart on his knees, Chavasse saw Fhada lift out of the sea on the horizon, a grey hump under cumulous clouds, the great six hundred foot cliffs at the northern end wreathed in mist.

They were flying at no more than two hundred feet above the sea, the German's hands steady on the wheel. Rain rattled against the windows and, below, the grey-green surface of the sea was whipped into white-caps.

'If we come in from the north, the cliffs should conceal our approach,' von Bayern said.

'What about the wind direction? Will it be okay for landing?'

'Good enough. It's the down-draughts from those cliffs we'll have to watch for.'

He turned to starboard a couple of points, running north-west into the Atlantic and when the cliffs of Fhada were to port, altered course again, dropping towards the sea, making his approach at no more than a hundred feet.

The great black cliffs, streaked with guano, reared above them and, below, Chavasse saw a shining expanse of wet sand a quarter of a mile wide.

Von Bayern took the Beaver in on a dummy run, feeling for the wind and a cross current from the island caught them so that they rocked violently. He swung the wheel full circle, taking the Beaver out to sea again, banked, and came in low over the waves, throttling back and dropping his flaps.

The wheels seemed to touch the surface of the water and then they were down, biting into the hard wet sand and the jagged rocks at the base of the cliffs rushed towards them. To Chavasse, it seemed as if they might never stop and then, suddenly, the Beaver was turning to port, completely under control.

After the engine was switched off, the propeller spun for a moment or two and then stopped. Von Bayern turned and smiled through the silence. 'A nice plane. He certainly keeps her in good trim, I'll say that for him.'

'I'm beginning to wonder how we won the war,' Chavasse said and he turned and followed Sergeant-Major Steiner through the cabin door.

The coldness hit him at once and the light rain blowing in from the Atlantic carried the sharp promise of winter with it.

The Germans stood together in a group talking in low voices. Chavasse noticed that Corporal Jackson was joining in and called him over. 'You know some German, then, Corporal?'

Jackson grinned. 'Should do, sir. I've spent enough time in B.A.O.R. My wife, Hilda-she's from Dortmund.'

'Good show,' Chavasse said. 'That's what we're going to speak from now on.' He turned to the rest of the party as von Bayern got out of the plane and said in German, 'This is a military operation, so far as I'm concerned, Colonel von Bayern is in command.'

'Thank you, Paul.' Von Bayern smiled briefly and addressed the men. 'Always supposing that our arrival hasn't been spotted, we have one advantage-complete surprise, plus the fact that you are all familiar with the terrain of the island and layout of the camp, from your two-week period of instruction and briefing in Germany before leaving. Speed is essential, so I don't propose to waste any more time in talk. Our first objective is the armoury. How we get inside is something I shall decide when we get there.'

He nodded to Chavasse and they turned and led the way along the base of the cliffs. From the sea, they had resembled an impregnable stone wall, but a closer inspection revealed great gullies and fissures providing an easy, if strenuous route up from the beach.

Chavasse scrambled over the top fifteen minutes later into a nightmare world of broken grey boulders, sparse grass and clinging mist. Von Bayern followed and they waited for the others to join them.

'From here, the ground slopes steeply to the camp at the other end of the island,' von Bayern said. 'The mist will conceal us for most of the way. After that, we stick to the broken ground.'

'How far?' Chavasse asked him.

'A little over a quarter of a mile.'

They set off down the hillside, keeping together, Chavasse and von Bayern in the lead, moving into a strange and alien world, the grey, damp walls of mist, pressing in on them.

As the ground fell away beneath them, they moved faster and as they descended, visibility increased until finally, the mist disappeared altogether.

A dry stream bed gave them the cover they needed and they followed it for several hundred yards until von Bayern finally called a halt. He and Chavasse crawled up the bank and peered over the edge.

The camp was spread before them no more than a hundred and fifty yards away and von Bayern beckoned to Steiner to join them. As they watched, a truck pulling a trailer carrying a small rocket emerged from behind the missile pens. It drove through the camp and took the road down towards the harbour.

'Firebird?' Chavasse said.

'One would imagine so. The officers' mess is the building directly behind the flagstaff. The armoury is beyond. The radio room is in the concrete tower.'

Sergeant-Major Steiner pointed to a long, low concrete building to their right. 'Isn't that the fuel store, Colonel?'

'That's right.'

'I wonder why they've put a guard on it?'

As he pointed, they saw one of Donner's men step out of the entrance, a machine pistol slung from his shoulders.

'A good place to imprison thirty-eight men, from the look of it,' Chavasse said.

Von Bayern nodded. 'You're probably right. The interesting thing is that the trawler Donner mentioned isn't in the harbour, so presumably they're still waiting for her.'

'That makes sense,' Chavasse said. 'Especially if that was Firebird we just saw going down to the harbour. That trawler isn't going to come in until she's sure they're absolutely ready for her. I bet they've got the whole thing timed to such a degree that she's in and out again in half an hour.'

'It would be a pity to frighten her away,' von Bayern said. 'And the moment we start shooting, whoever is in that radio room will do just that.'

'All right,' Chavasse said. 'Give me one good man to help me and I'll tackle the radio room. Donner's only got thirteen men including himself, so he can't have more than two or three up there. We might be able to jump them before any shooting starts.'

'A good idea. I'll give you Steiner. I have a feeling you're going to need him. I'll leave two men here to tackle the guard on that fuel store and move in on the armoury with the rest in exactly fifteen minutes. You'd better take a shotgun each, by the way. Whatever happens in that tower is going to be very much at close quarters.'

Chavasse nodded. 'I hope to God you get into that armoury. If you don't, we won't last long against automatic weapons.'

'The thought had occurred to me.' Von Bayern grinned. 'Do your best to survive, Paul. You promised to sample the delights of the Oktoberfest with me in Munich at the end of the month, remember.'

'It had better be worth the blood and sweat, that's all,' Chavasse said and he moved away along the stream bed with Steiner.

It petered out a hundred yards further on and they crawled across broken ground to the shelter of the missile pens. From there, they skirted the back of a Nissen hut and paused in its shelter, no more than ten yards from the concrete tower. It was perhaps fifty feet high and obviously contained a spiral staircase, narrow slotted windows going up at ten-foot intervals.

The radio room was at the very top, a narrow balcony encircling its glass walls and a steel emergency ladder ran from top to bottom of the building.

Chavasse pointed to the ladder. 'That's my way to the top, Sergeant-Major. You take it from inside.'

Steiner grinned, showing even white teeth. 'Rather you than me. I never did have much of a head for heights.'

Chavasse moved forward quickly and holding the shotgun in one hand, started to climb. Steiner waited until he was ten or fifteen feet high and then he ran forward, opened the door in the base of the tower and went inside.

A spiral staircase started on his right and there was a door to the left. He started towards the staircase and at the same moment, the door opened and one of Donner's men emerged. He carried a machine pistol in one hand and his reflexes were excellent.

In one quick moment he took in Steiner, the uniform, the fact that he was a stranger. The machine pistol swung up, and Steiner couldn't get close enough to do anything else except give him both barrels full in the face.

As Steiner dropped his shotgun and picked up the machine pistol, heavy steps thundered on the spiral staircase above. He swung round and as a bullet chipped the concrete beside the door, fired a quick burst in reply. There was no sign of his assailant, only the sound of someone going back up the steel stairs. Steiner sat down, pulled off his boots and went after him, silent on stockinged feet.

Chavasse was no more than half way up the ladder when he heard the shooting from inside the tower. He paused, hanging on with one hand, thumbing back the hammers of the shotgun awkwardly with the other and glanced over his shoulder.

The guard outside the armoury was looking up towards him. He took a step forward, unslinging his machine pistol and von Bayern came round the corner, a shotgun in his hands. He drove the butt hard against the unprotected skull, catching the man's machine pistol as he fell.

There was a sudden cry from beyond the officers' mess and three of Donner's men ran towards him. Von Bayern dropped to one knee and drove them back with a long burst and behind him his men crowded into the armoury.

Above Chavasse, a man leaned over the rail and fired at von Bayern, the bullets landing so close that they kicked dirt into the German's face. Chavasse swung the shotgun up, one-handed, firing both barrels at once, the weapon flying from his hand with the shock of the explosion. The man screamed, his face dissolving into a mask of blood and he disappeared. Chavasse lost his footing, hung crazily for a moment, then got a grip with the other hand and started to climb.

When he reached the balcony, he peered over the edge cautiously, but there was no one there except the dead man who lay against the wall, face down. The radio room itself was empty, the door swinging to and fro in the wind and when he went inside, he found, to his relief, that the equipment was still intact.

There was a quick step behind him, a sudden intake of breath and when he turned, Jack Murdoch stood in the doorway, blood on his face where a flying chip of concrete had sliced across the cheek.

'Chavasse!' he said incredulously, and for a moment the revolver in his hand wavered.

Behind him, Steiner emerged from the stairway, silent in stockinged feet. He touched Murdoch once very gently in the back of the neck with the barrel of the machine pistol, reached over and plucked the revolver from his hand.

'You lose, Murdoch.' Chavasse grinned. 'At a conservative estimate, I'd say you'll have about twenty years to sit back and decide where you went wrong. Where's Donner?'

Murdoch laughed unsteadily. 'Well out of this bloody lot. He would be.'

'You mean he isn't here?'

Murdoch nodded. 'He left two hours or more ago. It was all in the plan. Once we'd taken over and things were running smoothly, there was no reason for him to stay.'

'How did he leave?'

'Major Edicott, the C.O. here, had a power boat, Donner found that out months ago. He's on his way back to the mainland now. There's an old pier on the coast about half a mile from Glenmore House. He's supposed to pick up you and Stavrou and the girl and fly out in the Beaver to a landing strip in northern Sweden. From there he re-fuels and flies on to Russia.'

Chavasse laughed harshly. 'That's what he thinks.'

He turned to the rail and, below, von Bayern and his men, armed with automatic rifles from the armoury, swept on across the square, four of Donner's men retreating before them, firing furiously.

Beyond them, the guard at the fuel store had already been overpowered and as Chavasse watched, several officers and a stream of British soldiers emerged and ran forward, spreading out as they came.

Within a few moments it was all over. As two of Donner's men fell, the others threw down their weapons and raised their hands. As Chavasse watched, von Bayern and the British officers came together. There was a brief conversation and then three of the officers and a mixed group of German and British soldiers broke away and hurried down towards the harbour.

Von Bayern looked up and waved. Chavasse waved back and the German and the British officer he had been talking to walked across to the tower with a couple of men.

Chavasse turned to Steiner. 'Got a cigarette?'

Steiner produced a packet from his tunic pocket. Chavasse took one and accepted a light from the old gun-metal petrol lighter the German held out.

The smoke bit deep into his lungs when he inhaled, harsh and satisfying and suddenly he was tired. A moment later, von Bayern arrived with the British officer.

'This is Captain Harrison, Paul. Unfortunately Major Endicott, the commanding officer, was killed before we arrived.'

Harrison shook hands. 'I don't think I've ever been quite so pleased to see anyone in my life before,' he said. 'If you'll excuse me for a moment, I just want to get in touch with Mallaig.'

He went into the radio room, his two men with him and von Bayern turned to Chavasse. 'You are all right? That was a bad moment when I was fired on from the tower. Thank you.'

'One snag,' Chavasse said. 'Donner cleared out a couple of hours ago in the C.O.'s power boat, apparently all according to plan. Remember I said I couldn't understand how he was to get back.'

Von Bayern shrugged. 'I can't see that it will do him any good. With no plane to fly out in, he can't get very far.'

'That's true.'

Harrison came back to join them. 'I've been in touch with Mallaig and they've put out a general alert, admittedly rather belatedly.'

Chavasse frowned and glanced at von Bayern. 'I should have thought they would have heard from Asta and Benson by now.'

'I'm afraid I don't understand,' Harrison said.

Chavasse explained quickly and Harrison returned to the radio room. He was back within two or three minutes, shaking his head. 'No, there's definitely been no sign of Miss Svensson or Driver Benson.'

'We understand Donner left in Major Endicott's power boat some time ago,' von Bayern said. 'Is it a fast craft?'

Harrison nodded. 'Twin screws-Penta petrol engine. Good for twenty-five or thirty knots in the right weather.'

'Is there any other boat in the harbour?'

'Only an old lobster boat. Not a hope of catching him if that's what you're thinking of. I don't think it could make better than five knots.'

Chavasse turned away, his face grim and von Bayern said, 'No boat on earth could catch him now, Paul.'

'And what if something went wrong?' Chavasse demanded. 'What if Asta's still at Glenmore. Donner must almost be there by now.'

'There's always the plane.'

Chavasse turned from the rail eagerly. 'Do you think it's possible?'

'I don't know,' von Bayern shrugged. 'It depends how far the tide has turned. We certainly couldn't manage the party we brought in. You and me and perhaps Steiner-no more.'

'I could let you have a Land Rover,' Harrison said. 'It would have you on top of the cliffs in five minutes from here. They're marvellous vehicles in rough country.'

'Good, then there is no time to waste, Paul,' von Bayern said and he nodded to Steiner who followed him down the stairs.

Harrison took a revolver from his pocket and handed it to Chavasse. 'I picked this up on the way. You'd better have it.'

Chavasse weighed it in his hand and nodded to Murdoch who had been standing at the rail, a silent observer of everything which had taken place.

'One good turn deserves another. There's still the question of the right signal to bring a certain trawler in here to pick up Firebird. I've a feeling our friend here could be very co-operative in that direction if you approached him in the right way.'

Harrison grinned, turning towards Murdoch and Chavasse went down the spiral staircase quickly after the others.

The sergeant who drove them to the top of the cliffs was a keen amateur naturalist and spent most of his spare time on the cliffs and the seashore.

He shook his head briefly in answer to von Bayern's query about the tide. 'It'll be well in now, sir,' he said. 'They go out slow and swing back sudden, if you follow me. Damned treacherous. I've nearly been caught in the rocks down there a time or two, I can tell you.'

The mist had disappeared when they went over the crest of the final hill and braked to a halt and when they moved to the edge of the cliffs, the Beaver was clearly visible close to the rocks below, strangely alien in such a place.

'See what I mean, sir?'

The sergeant pointed and Chavasse looked to where the sea rolled in across the sand in great, hungry breakers. Already at least half of the area on which they had landed was eaten away and the rest was broken up by great trailing fingers of salt water.

'What do you think?' Chavasse said, turning to von Bayern.

The German shrugged. 'Ask me again when I'm sitting at the controls. Come on. We're wasting time.'

They dropped into the nearest gully and went sliding down in a shower of broken stones and earth and the Artillery sergeant went with them.

Chavasse plunged down the final slope of scree and emerged on to the open beach, aware at once of the strong, fresh breeze that blew in directly from the sea.

'One thing in our favour,' von Bayern said, and they ran towards the Beaver.

When they reached it, von Bayern climbed straight inside, followed by Steiner, but the Artillery sergeant grabbed Chavasse by the sleeve. 'It isn't possible, sir,' he said and his face was white. 'You haven't got a clear run. It's all broken up by water channels.'

Chavasse had no time to reply, because the engine coughed into life with a shattering roar, drowning every other sound. He pushed the sergeant away, clambered up into the cabin and Steiner secured the door.

Chavasse went into the cockpit and sat in the co-pilot's seat. 'What do you think?' he yelled above the roar of the engine.

Von Bayern didn't even bother to reply. There was a strange, set smile on his face. He taxied into the wind and gave her full throttle. The Beaver shuddered and seemed to jump forward on a diagonal course to the sea that gave them the longest strip of beach there was left.

They went across one water channel and then another and another, spray flying up in great clouds on either side, von Bayern stamping hard on the rudder bar to keep her straight. And then she lifted, one wing dipping slightly and the breakers were beneath them, the wheels skimming the whitecaps.

But they weren't rising, that was the terrible thing-the nose was dropping and von Bayern didn't seem to be doing anything about it. Quite suddenly, they were moving very fast indeed, the engine note deepening into a full-throated roar and only then did he pull back the control column.

They lifted into the evening sky, climbing fast and behind them on the beach, the Artillery sergeant watched them go, awe on his face.