The Complete Navarone 4-Book Collection: The Guns of Navarone, Force Ten From Navarone, Storm Force from Navarone, Thunderbolt from Navarone. Alistair MacLeanЧитать онлайн книгу.
knew he was afraid. And twice before, in Castelrosso and when the German boat had closed in on them, he had almost failed his friends – and tonight he had failed them terribly. He had not been thought fit to lead the way with Mallory – and it was he, the sailor of the party, who had made such a botch of tying that last knot, had lost all the food and the fuel that had plummeted into the sea a bare ten feet from where he had stood on the ledge … and a thousand men on Kheros were depending on a failure so abject as himself. Sick and spent, spent in mind and body and spirit, moaning aloud in his anguish of fear and self-loathing, and not knowing where one finished and the other began, Andy Stevens climbed blindly on.
The sharp, high-pitched call-up buzz of the telephone cut abruptly through the darkness on the cliff-top. Mallory stiffened and half-turned, hands clenching involuntarily. Again it buzzed, the jarring stridency carrying clearly above the bass rumble of the thunder, fell silent again. And then it buzzed again and kept on buzzing, peremptory in its harsh insistence.
Mallory was half-way towards it when he checked in mid-step, turned slowly round and walked back towards Andrea. The big Greek looked at him curiously.
‘You have changed your mind?’
Mallory nodded but said nothing.
‘They will keep on ringing until they get an answer,’ Andrea murmured. ‘And when they get no answer, they will come. They will come quickly and soon.’
‘I know, I know.’ Mallory shrugged. ‘We have to take that chance – certainty rather. The question is – how long will it be before anyone turns up.’ Instinctively he looked both ways along the windswept cliff-top: Miller and Brown were posted one on either side about fifty yards away, lost in the darkness. ‘It’s not worth the risk. The more I think of it, the poorer I think my chances would be of getting away with it. In matters of routine the old Hun tends to be an inflexible sort of character. There’s probably a set way of answering the phone, or the sentry has to identify himself by name, or there’s a password – or maybe my voice would give me away. On the other hand the sentry’s gone without trace, all our gear is up and so’s everyone except Stevens. In other words, we’ve practically made it. We’ve landed – and nobody knows we’re here.’
‘Yes.’ Andrea nodded slowly. ‘Yes, you are right – and Stevens should be up in two or three minutes. It would be foolish to throw away everything we’ve gained.’ He paused, then went on quietly: ‘But they are going to come running.’ The phone stopped ringing as suddenly as it had started. ‘They are going to come now.’
‘I know. I hope to hell Stevens …’ Mallory broke off, spun on his heel, said over his shoulder, ‘Keep your eye open for him, will you? I’ll warn the others we’re expecting company.’
Mallory moved quickly along the cliff-top, keeping well away from the edge. He hobbled rather than walked – the sentry’s boots were too small for him and chafed his toes cruelly. Deliberately he closed his mind to the thought of how his feet would be after a few hours’ walking over rough territory in these boots: time enough for the reality, he thought grimly, without the added burden of anticipation … He stopped abruptly as something hard and metallic pushed into the small of his back.
‘Surrender or die!’ The drawling, nasal voice was positively cheerful: after what he had been through on the caique and the cliff face, just to set feet on solid ground again was heaven enough for Dusty Miller.
‘Very funny,’ Mallory growled. ‘Very funny indeed.’ He looked curiously at Miller. The American had removed his oilskin cape – the rain had ceased as abruptly as it had come – to reveal a jacket and braided waistcoat even more sodden and saturated than his trousers. It didn’t make sense. But there was no time for questions.
‘Did you hear the phone ringing just now?’ he asked.
‘Was that what it was? Yeah, I heard it.’
‘The sentry’s phone. His hourly report, or whatever it was, must have been overdue. We didn’t answer it. They’ll be hot-footing along any minute now, suspicious as hell and looking for trouble. Maybe your side, maybe Brown’s. Can’t approach any other way unless they break their necks climbing over these boulders.’ Mallory gestured at the shapeless jumble of rocks behind them. ‘So keep your eyes skinned.’
‘I’ll do that, boss. No shootin’, huh?’
‘No shooting. Just get back as quickly and quietly as you can and let us know. Come back in five minutes anyway.’
Mallory hurried away, retracing his steps. Andrea was stretched full length on the cliff-top, peering over the edge. He twisted his head round as Mallory approached.
‘I can hear him. He’s just at the overhang.’
‘Good.’ Mallory moved on without breaking step. ‘Tell him to hurry, please.’
Ten yards farther on Mallory checked, peered into the gloom ahead. Somebody was coming along the cliff-top at a dead run, stumbling and slipping on the loose gravelly soil.
‘Brown?’ Mallory called softly.
‘Yes, sir. It’s me.’ Brown was up to him now, breathing heavily, pointing back in the direction he had just come. ‘Somebody’s coming, and coming fast! Torches waving and jumping all over the place – must be running.’
‘How many?’ Mallory asked quickly.
‘Four or five at least.’ Brown was still gasping for breath. ‘Maybe more – four or five torches, anyway. You can see them for yourself.’ Again he pointed backwards, then blinked in puzzlement. ‘That’s bloody funny! They’re all gone.’ He turned back swiftly to Mallory. ‘But I can swear –’
‘Don’t worry,’ Mallory said grimly. ‘You saw them all right. I’ve been expecting visitors. They’re getting close now and taking no chances … How far away?’
‘Hundred yards – not more than a hundred and fifty.’
‘Go and get Miller. Tell him to get back here fast.’
Mallory ran back along the cliff edge and knelt beside the huge length of Andrea.
‘They’re coming, Andrea,’ he said quickly. ‘From the left. At least five, probably more. Two minutes at the most. Where’s Stevens? Can you see him?’
‘I can see him.’ Andrea was magnificently unperturbed. ‘He is just past the overhang …’ The rest of his words were lost, drowned in a sudden, violent thunderclap, but there was no need for more. Mallory could see Stevens now, climbing up the rope, strangely old and enfeebled in action, hand over hand in paralysing slowness, half-way now between the overhang and the foot of the chimney.
‘Good God!’ Mallory swore. ‘What’s the matter with him? He’s going to take all day …’ He checked himself, cupped his hands to his mouth. ‘Stevens! Stevens!’ But there was no sign that Stevens had heard. He still kept climbing with the same unnatural over-deliberation, a robot in slow motion.
‘He is very near the end,’ Andrea said quietly. ‘You see he does not even lift his head. When a climber does not lift his head, he is finished.’ He stirred. ‘I will go down for him.’
‘No.’ Mallory’s hand was on his shoulder. ‘Stay here. I can’t risk you both … Yes, what is it?’ He was aware that Brown was back, bending over him, his breath coming in great heaving gasps.
‘Hurry, sir; hurry, for God’s sake!’ A few brief words but he had to suck in two huge gulps of air to get them out. ‘They’re on top of us!’
‘Get back to the rocks with Miller,’ Mallory said urgently. ‘Cover us … Stevens! Stevens!’ But again the wind swept up the face of the cliff, carried his words away.
‘Stevens! For God’s sake, man! Stevens!’ His voice was low-pitched, desperate, but this time some quality in it must have reached through Stevens’s fog of exhaustion and touched his consciousness, for he stopped climbing and lifted his head,