Alistair Maclean, Sam Llewellyn - Storm Force From Navarone by Ismeretlen

Author:Ismeretlen
Language: hun
Format: epub

‘No,’ said Hugues. ‘You must not.’

‘And why?’ roared the Commandant, alcoholically. ‘Every man on this engine has fought for la patrie at the Marne. We are ready to fight and die. For the glory of France. Not for your damned Lenin, nom d’un nom-‘

Hugues said, ‘It must be said that I am not a Leninist.’ Stupid old man, he was thinking. Gate firebrand -

‘Sir,’ said the Commandant, drawing himself up. ‘I am a soldier. We are all soldiers, and we are fighting an honest war, face to face with the enemy, honourably, not hole-in-corner. Seventy men, hand-picked, will at dawn be rallying to the house of Guy Jamalartegui. The time has come.’

Hugues opened his mouth to tell him that he should keep his childish fantasies to himself. But Lisette got there before him. She said in a conciliatory voice, ‘You cannot do this.’

The Commandant raised a hoary eyebrow that fluttered with the speed of the hurtling engine. ‘Cannot? Madame, I must tell you that at the Marne, I and thirty of my comrades held our redoubt for three days against a regiment of Boches. Nothing has changed.’

‘Mon Commandant,’ said Lisette. ‘I will place confidence in you. What I am about to tell you is of the highest importance, a great secret.’ The parts of the Commandant’s face not concealed by the slipstream-whipped expanses of his moustache were pinkening with pleasure. ‘You will endanger an important Allied mission.’

‘My little cabbage, I thank you,’ said the Commandant. ‘I accept your secret. Do not bother your pretty head with it further. And if you please. Mademoiselle, do not speak to me of fighting and other things you do not understand. A woman’s place is in the bedroom and the kitchen.’ He pinched her cheek. ‘Leave this to the men.’

The crack of Lisette’s palm on his ear was audible even over the sound of the bell. ‘Vieux con!’ she said. ‘Buffoon! At least do not arrive in your stupid fire engine.’

‘Monsieur,’ said Hugues. This lady has only this morning escaped the clutches of the Gestapo, while you have been in the cafe since lunchtime.’

The fire engine was bowling along the southern side of the

port. It was raining. From some secret locker in the back, one of the ex-poilus had hauled out rifles of ancient design. ‘We also fight, who sit in the cafe,’ said the Commandant sulkily, rubbing his ear. On the far side of the harbour, a few fishing boats were tied up at the town quay. Behind them, two large grey trucks were moving through the twilight.

‘Look,’ said Hugues, pointing. They are following us. I beg you. You are endangering this British operation. Secrecy is vital-‘

The Commandant said, as if scoring a debating point, ‘It is you that they are following.’

Lisette said, ‘mon Commandant, the end result will be the same.’

‘I will not skulk,’ said the Commandant. ‘I am not listening to you.’

The road left the shore and began to wind uphill between small houses. ‘Bien,’ said Lisette, between clenched teeth. ‘In that case, there is only one solution.

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