'Don't drink too much, or you'll be sick,' he shouted at her, and pulled her away from the tap.
'I never thought water could be so…,' she gasped.
'Come on,' he interrupted. 'Let's get out of here.'
From his left, someone opened fire with a sub machine gun in an attempt to blast through the thick wooden door. So Curly Top, or one of his men, was still alive. From the right, as if in stereo, another gun chattered as the two guards at the entrance to the range also tried to smash their way through.
'What the hell did you do in there?' she asked as she followed him down to the sandbagged area.
'Put their fires out.'
'What?'
'Save it for later.'
He led her to the end of the range where the targets were lined up. There were no windows behind them, no obvious means of escape.
'Up there,' she said, pointing at the ceiling.
It was a trap door, a workman's entry into the roof.
Adam turned and ran to the other end of the range, grabbed one of the wooden chairs lined up there, and placed it under the trap doo. He stood on it, and looked into the darkness of the roof tresses. Then he stepped down, signalled Billie onto the chair and helped her climb into the roof.
The door on the left burst open as he pulled himself up into the dark void. He heard the bullets thud into the woodwork of the ceiling as he closed the trap door and bolted it shut. The men underneath were firing into the ceiling, but the wood was too thick. Adam looked down the roof area. It was wide, an enormous football field of sloping roof and supporting tresses. He moved away, running on the boards towards a light at the far end. Billie followed him.
The light came from a skylight with a ledge below it. Adam opened it and looked out. It was a murky day, foggy and cold. Below him, standing at the side of the building, was a Stermabeitalung, who had crept off duty from the front door to have a quiet smoke. The gunshots hadn't concerned him; it wasn't unusual from the area of the firing range.
As Adam came out onto the ledge, the alarm bells shrilled, warning all storm troopers that something had gone wrong. The Stermabeitalung quickly ground his cigarette in the sand, slipped his HK54 submachine gun off his shoulder and turned quickly to take up his position at the front door. It was too late. Adam had dropped onto him from the ledge. As the trooper staggered to get up, Adam drove the Cartier bracelet into his neck, through his voice box, severing the artery.
'Jump!' Adam shouted. More nervous about the automatic fire behind her than the height before her, Billie jumped without question. He caught her, softened her fall.
Then he took the HK54 from the dead guard, untied the laces on his boots and slipped them off, grabbed his topcoat and led Billie into the trees. This time he triggered off the alarm that surrounded the chalet, but he wasn't worried. It would be lost in the sound of the main klaxon that was already blaring through the camp.
'What's that?' asked Frick.
'I'll find out,' replied Kragan, picking up the phone on Frick's desk.
Frick turned back to Karl Schiller, the newest member of the Council who had replaced Mitzer. The banker was stunned with what Frick had just told him. He knew they were on a dangerous course, but had never expected anything so drastic.
'Only you and Klaus Buhle know of our plans. And a small team, specially trained by Kragan. Six in all. Nobody else will ever know.'
'What part do you wish me to play?' asked Schiller nervously.
'When it is over, there will be chaos. Everyone will blame everyone else. The business community will be nervous, will not know which way to turn. They all think highly of you. You must divert attention away from us. Spread the blame. Spread the fear. And then point towards a new order, towards our party, towards the past that will help make Germany great again. Convince them that we are the unity of the future. That will be your part.'
Schiller was relieved. 'Did you know I was invited to the ceremony?' he asked.
'Yes. I hope you accepted.'
'Yes.'
'Good. That will help. To have been there. To describe it to your colleagues. It is a moment you will never forget, Karl. Even when your estates are returned to you from the hands of the Jews.' Frick never let the pressure off. He knew greed was the banker's greatest motive. 'Even then, you will remember that you were there when the course of history was changed in our favour.'
'Do you think they will listen to me?'
'Of course. They are good patriotic Germans. Germany always comes first. Didn't Thyssen build arms factories for Saddam Hussein even though they had already signed an agreement not to do business with Israel? But they still did. And how many others helped in the manufacture and supply of chemical warfare plants? At the end of the day we must look after our own interests. We have always done that. That's why we have such greatness as a nation.'
Kragan slammed the phone down, his fury obvious.
'What's wrong?' asked Frick.
'They've escaped.' It was the last thing Kragan wanted to say, here, in front of Frick.
'The Englishman?'
'Yes. But they're in the compound. We'll find them quickly enough.'
He steeled himself for the torrent of abuse and vilification that followed, the usual harangue that Frick let loose when things went wrong. It lasted a full five minutes. Schiller was shocked, never having seen Frick in this manner. When it eventually died down, when Frick had expended himself, Kragan spoke.
'We'll find them. They can't be far.'
'They must not affect our plans.'
'They won't, Fuhrer. They have no idea of what we're doing. And it's too late now. Our men leave today.'
'Kill them!' shrieked Frick. 'Kill them and then we won't have to worry about them. Give that order now.'
Ch. 71
The Presidential Boeing 747, Air Force One, had settled into its cruise when the DDI was told there was a call for him on the High Frequency set.
He went forward into the cockpit and the engineer vacated his seat so that the DDI could take the call.
'It's London, sir,' said the engineer handing over his headset.
The DDI nodded and put the headset on.
'Yes,' he said into the microphone.
'It's Charlie,' came Coy's scratchy voice over the HF receiver.
'Hi,' the DDI replied. He wasn't worried about the conversation being overheard; he knew the HF system wasn't being recorded. But they would be overheard by the operator who had connected them through the international SELCAL network.
'Just wanted to confirm that everything's all right.'
'Great.' He knew that Coy had been speaking to their friend. Arrangements were obviously going ahead as planned.
'Anne…' that was Coy's wife's name. '…wanted me to thank you for the family pictures. But she thought some were missing from the folder.' So they still hadn't found the two agents.
'Sorry. I thought they were all there.'
'She gave me a real earful for not checking them with you.' Coy was letting the DDI know that he was under fire for releasing the picture of Adam. 'We made up, anyway. I said it won't happen again.'
The DDI laughed at Coy's pretend joke. 'Women, they're the same the world over,' he cracked back. 'Any idea where your kids are going on holiday?'
'Not yet.' Coy's answer told him that they had no idea where Adam and Billie had got to, or what their reason for running was.
'Used the crapper yet?' added Coy.'
'No comment.'
'Have a good trip.'
'So long.'