The Last Frontier by Alistair MacLean

Author:Alistair MacLean
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Action & Adventure
ISBN: 9780007289455
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 1959-01-02T00:00:00+00:00

EIGHT

Reynolds, in those first few minutes of shock, was conscious of nothing but the entire absence of all emotion, of all feeling, as if the touch of the metal fetters on his wrists and ankles had somehow deprived him of all capacity to react. But then came the first slow wave of numbed disbelief, then the shocked disbelief and chagrin that this should have happened to him again, then the bitter, intolerable realization that they had been effortlessly and absolutely trapped, that the commandant had been toying with them and had deceived them completely, that they were prisoners now within the dreaded Szarháza and that if they ever emerged they would do so only as unrecognizable zombies, as the broken, empty husks of the men they had once been.

He looked across at Jansci, to see how the older man was taking this crushing blow, the final defeat of all their plans, the virtual sentence of death on themselves, to see what his reaction was. As far as he could judge, Jansci wasn’t reacting at all. His face was quiet and he was looking at the commandant with a thoughful, measuring gaze – a gaze, Reynolds thought, curiously like the one with which the commandant was regarding Jansci.

As the last metal shackle clipped home around a chair leg, the leader of the guards looked questioningly at the commandant. The latter waved a hand in dismissal.

‘They are secure?’

‘Completely.’

‘Very well, then. You may go.’

The guard hesitated. ‘They are dangerous men –’

‘I am aware of that,’ the commandant said patiently. ‘Why else do you think I deemed it necessary to summon so many to secure them? But they are shackled to chairs that are bolted to the floor. It is unlikely that they will merely evaporate.’

He waited until the door had closed, steepled his thin fingers and went on in his quiet, precise voice.

‘This, gentlemen, is the moment, if ever there was a moment, for gloating: a self-confessed British spy – that recording, Mr Reynolds, will create an international sensation in the People’s Court – and the redoubtable leader of the best organized escape group and anti-Communist ring in Hungary both in one fell swoop. We shall, however, dispense with the gloating: it is useless and time-wasting, a fit pastime only for morons and imbeciles.’ He smiled faintly. ‘Speaking of such, it is, incidentally, a pleasure to deal with intelligent men, who accept the inevitable and who are sufficiently realistic to dispense with the customary breast-beating lamentations, denials and outraged expostulations of innocence.

‘Nor do theatricalism, prolonged climaxes, the creation of suspense or unnecessary secrecy interest me,’ he continued. ‘Time is the most valuable gift we have, and its waste an unforgiveable crime … Your first thoughts, naturally – Mr Reynolds, be so good as to follow your friend’s example and refrain from doing yourself an unnecessary injury in testing these shackles – your first thought, I say, is, how has it come about that you find yourself in this melancholy position. There is no reason why you should not know, and at once.

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