Night of the Fox, Cold Harbour, Flight of Eagles by Higgins Jack

Author:Higgins, Jack [Higgins, Jack]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: ebook
ISBN: 9781536661651
Amazon: 1536661651
Goodreads: 33007282
Publisher: Brilliance Audio
Published: 2017-02-14T08:00:00+00:00

10

As Sarah pulled the heavy white sweater over her head there was a knock on the door of Bruno’s cabin. She opened it and a young rating said in poor French, “Lieutenant Feldt’s compliments. We’re entering St. Helier Harbor.” He closed the door and she went to the basin and tried to do something with her hair, which was impossible. The effects of salt water had proved disastrous, and it was now a tangled straw-colored mess. She gave up and rolled the Kriegsmarine dungarees up at her ankles.

The contents of her handbag, which she had stuffed into a pocket of Orsini’s reefer before leaving the Victor Hugo, had survived surprisingly well. Her identity card and other papers were soaked, of course. She had laid them out now on the hot-water pipes to dry with her handbag. She replaced them all and retrieved the Walther PPK from under the pillow. The Belgian pistol Sergeant Kelly had given her was in her suitcase on board the E-boat. She sat on the edge of the bunk and pulled on a pair of old tennis shoes one of the young ratings had given her.

There was a knock and Guido came in. “How are you?” he asked in French.

“Fine,” she said, “except for the hair. I look like a scarecrow.”

He was carrying a Kriegsmarine reefer coat. “Put this on. A damp morning out there.”

As she stood her handbag fell to the floor, spilling some of the contents, including the Walther. Guido picked it up and said softly, “What a lot of gun for a little girl. Mystery piles on mystery with you.”

She took it from him and returned it to her handbag. “All part of my fatal attraction.”

“Very fatal if an item like that is involved.”

His eyes were serious now, but she smiled lightly and, on impulse, kissed him on the cheek. Then she went out and he followed her.

A scene so familiar from her childhood. The harbor, Elizabeth Castle on her left in the bay, the Albert Pier, the sprawl of St. Helier, Fort Regent on the hill above. The same and yet not the same. Military strongpoints everywhere and the harbor more crammed with vessels than she had ever known it. The Rhine barges from the convoy were already safely in, but there was no sign of S92.

“Where’s the E-boat?” Sarah asked Guido as she leaned on the bridge rail beside him and Lieutenant Feldt.

“Probably having a last look for survivors,” he said as they nosed in toward the Albert Pier.

Dockers were already starting to unload the barges, and there seemed to be soldiers everywhere. Below, half-a-dozen French seamen, survivors of the crew of the Victor Hugo picked up by the trawler after Guido and Sarah, waited at the rail in borrowed clothes. Two had sustained facial burns and were heavily bandaged. Another man who had swallowed oil lay on a stretcher.

“No sign of Savary,” Orsini said.

“Someone else may have picked him up,” Bruno Feldt said. “I see the GFP are ready and waiting.

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