The Legion of the Lost, стр. 69
‘Mutiny again, Sap. It’s in my blood!’
Palfrey said slowly: ‘You were right! What did they say?’
‘They seemed damned glad to be tipped off,’ said Conroy, and smiled more freely. ‘That will leave just us and Stolte. I’ve got a soft spot for the paunchy Stolte, but—’
Stolte stretched out his hands towards them in supplication, terror in his eyes, his yellow teeth showing, saliva frothing at his lips. He did not speak. Conroy narrowed his eyes and looked at him, and then said slowly: ‘We’ll tie him up and bring him and the guards in here—all right with you, Sap? It’s a room without windows, and the door’s pretty safe. All right?’
‘Get busy,’ said Palfrey. ‘I’ll bring the others in.’
He went into the ante-room and dragged in first one guard and then the other. From there he could hear footsteps in the passage and agitated voices; the warning had obviously spread quickly and the crowd was hurrying to the shelter. When he had the second man in the room he saw that Stolte, unconscious, was bound hand and foot; Conroy was fastening a gag.
Conroy grunted as he finished and straightened up.
‘Now all we want are the passports, there ought to be a bag big enough. Oh, yes—and gas-masks, Sap, we’ll be needing some.’ He took the masks off the two guards, while Palfrey found service masks, presumably those of the von Lichners and von Often. He found, also, a small case, large enough for the passports.
They went along to their own apartment, at the tail-end of a crowd of people hurrying to the shelter, strained looks on all their faces. Inside, Brian and Drusilla were waiting, obviously on tenterhooks, and Brian burst out: ‘We’ve been told there’s a raid coming, Sap.’
‘Yes,’ said Palfrey briefly. ‘We timed it.’ He gave neither of them a chance to exclaim, but went on swiftly: ‘We’ll wait ten minutes; by then everyone is likely to be in the shelter. Then we’ll tackle the wardens, or whatever they call themselves, and the fire-watchers on the roof. We’ve got our hands full,’ he added, ‘but we can make it!’ He slapped the case with the passports, went a little more fully into what had happened – and then they stopped abruptly in the middle of a conversation, for there was a tap at the door.
As they stared at one another, another sound came. It was from outside, piercing and penetrating; the unmistakable warning of the sirens.
Chapter Thirty-Two
New Life for the Legion
Conroy and Brian stood behind the door, their guns in their hands. Palfrey, his right hand in his pocket about his gun, opened the door. He did not know whom to expect, and wondered whether von Otten had taken some precautions which they knew nothing about. Then he stepped back in surprise and relief, for he recognised the caller as the man from the beer-garden on the Adolf Hitler Platz.
The man stepped past him quickly, closing the door.
‘Herr Doktor,’ he said in the whisper Palfrey remembered well, ‘I have been sent with information from your friend. Everything is ready tonight, but will you need assistance here? I have twenty men who can come at once if you wish for it. I am asked to hurry and to tell you that the streets will be empty and that coaches, arranged by von Otten, will be waiting at the prison.’
Palfrey said stupidly: ‘Coaches at the prison?’
‘I should, perhaps, say near,’ said the drab old man. ‘They were to have been for the delegates, you understand, a slight change of orders was given as to where they should go. They will be on the way to the stations, and will be driven by our very good friends. I am also to say that much will depend upon the passports.’
Palfrey said slowly: ‘We’ve got them.’
‘You have, Herr Doktor?’ The old man’s eyes lighted up. ‘That is wonderful, it is all that is needed! But help—will you require it? I am to tell you that there is a warning on and that here there will be men on duty on the roof.’
‘Yes,’ interrupted Palfrey quickly. ‘Yes, we know, and we’ll need help. Most of the people are in the air-raid shelter by now, but if you can look through the rooms with your men and make sure that no one else is free.’ He told the old man of von Otten’s apartment and what he would find there, and the German was quick to take it in.
Then Palfrey said: ‘When you’re sure the place is empty, can you block the entrances to the air-raid shelter? We were going to try, but—’
‘We will block them,’ the old man said calmly. ‘You have no need to fear, Herr Doktor. At the prison you will ask for Hauptmann Schultze and give the name of Pienne. I am to tell you that the attack on the prison will start in half an hour’s time.’
‘Half an hour,’ said Palfrey, softly. ‘Just half an hourl’
It was very dark over Berlin.
The drone of night-fighters above their heads followed Palfrey and his party as they made their way towards the Potsdamer Platz. Only three times in the long walk did they encounter anyone in the streets, and they were parties of soldiers. They did see, vaguely, the A.A. guns on the roofs of some of the houses, for they could pick out the ugly shapes of the muzzles, and the men standing by them. There was hardly a soul on the streets of Berlin except those who were on duty. It was the same everywhere. Once or twice searchlights stabbed through the night and the drone of the night-fighters continued, but there was no sound of the crump of bombs. The searchlights seemed shy of their encounter with the skies, and were switched off one after the other.
At last they reached the prison.
There were men stationed about it, all of them with fixed bayonets and in uniform