The EAGLE HAS LANDED by Jack Higgins

Author:Jack Higgins [Higgins, Jack]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: World War; 1939-1945, General, Secret service, Germany, War & Military, Thrillers, Fiction, Espionage
ISBN: 9780671019341
Publisher: Pocket
Published: 1997-11-01T01:18:45+00:00

The five men on the end of the rope hauled with a will and Preston shot up, banging against the loft on the way, finishing just below the roof. They lowered him till he stood on the edge, gazing down at them wildly.

"All right, English," Brandt called. ‘remember what I told you. Jump when I signal."

He turned to instruct the men on the rope, and there was a cry of alarm from Briegel as Preston simply fell forward into space. Ritter Neumann jumped for the rope. Preston came to rest three feet above the ground, swinging like a pendulum, arms hanging at his side head down.

Brandt put a hand under the chin and looked into the Englishman's face. "He's fainted."

"So it would appear," Steiner said.

"What do we do with him, Herr Oberst?" Ritter Neumann demanded.

"Bring him round," Steiner said calmly. Then put him up again. As many times as it takes until he can do it satisfactorily - or breaks a leg." He saluted. "Carry on, please," turned and went out.

The rooks in the beech trees were the only sign of life as Devlin went through the lychgate of St Mary and All the Saints. They lifted into the sky noisily as if conscious that he was a stranger and annoyed about it. When he opened the door and went into the church it was very quiet and his footsteps on the stone flags echoed hollowly between the pillars.

Our Lady seemed to float above the flickering candles in the half-light of the side chapel, the beautiful medieval face eternally peaceful. Vereker knelt before her in prayer. He crossed himself as Devlin approached then stood up with difficulty and turned, leaning on the stick. His face was drawn - in fact he looked quite haggard and was obviously in some pain.

"You wanted to see me," Devlin said.

"It was good of you to come."

Devlin made no reply, and Vereker swayed slightly, as if almost losing his balance, reached for the end of a pew to steady himself and sat down. "I'm sorry. I don't feel too well. You’ll have to excuse me."

It was the first reference Devlin had known him to make to his physical state and completely unexpected, for in his short acquaintance with Vereker, he had formed the impression that the priest resented his infirmity so much, he preferred to act as if it did not exist.

"That's all right, what did you want?"

"No sense in beating about the bush," Vereker said. "It's to do with Molly - Molly Prior."

"Well?" Devlin said. "What about her?"

"I don't want you to see her again."

"You don't want me to see her again." Devlin laughed out loud.

Vereker's face was pale, the eyes flared. "Mind your manners."

"Oh, I'm sorry, sir." Devlin rolled out the bog Irish accent in deliberate mockery. "If I had me cap on, I'd touch it to your honour."

"Stay away from her." Vereker was thoroughly angry now.

"Would you mind giving me a reason?"

"A hatful if you like. For one thing, you’re old enough to be her father.

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