Yesterday's Spy by Len Deighton

Author:Len Deighton [Deighton, Len]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: (¯`'•.¸//(*_*)\\¸.•'´¯)
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Published: 2012-04-03T14:00:00+00:00

14

The N562 road from Grasse deteriorates after Draguignan. From its sharp hairpins you can see the Mediterranean on a fine day, or at least the shiny new autoroute that swings inland at Cannes and goes past Aix and Avignon. That – if you have the right sort of car, and keep your foot on the floor – will take you to Paris within five hours.

But to the north of that ‘route sinueuse’ is a barren region of scrub and rock that the French Army have possessed since the early years of this century. There are no autoroutes there. In fact, the local people will tell you that there are no roads there at all, although they themselves drive north. The raincoated policemen and armed soldiers who huddle around the zone militaire barriers wave the grey corrugated vans of the grocer, the butcher and the baker through the cordon, except when the gunnery ranges are in use.

Champion’s black Mercedes was well known to the sentries. Champion had a local resident’s pass, for the Tix mansion and the quarry were close to the military zone, and the most direct route was through the barriers.

The chauffeur showed the pass to the sergeant of gendarmerie. The sergeant leaned into the car and stared at all three of us before handing the papers back. There was a buzz as the window was raised, and the car rolled forward into the military exercise zone. With a rattle of gravel we passed over the junction of the communications roads. Soon we reached the reinforced surface that the army built to withstand the weight of the AMX 50s, brought up here to ‘the Atelier’ for testing under battle conditions.

Even in fine weather it is a grim place. Like all such military establishments, it is an example of decades of neglect interspersed with panic spending. The buildings at the north-western tip were built by the Germans during the war. It is a walled compound, with guard towers and ditches. The emplacement area, which the US Army built in 1946, included a cinema and swimming-pool that are still in use, but a more important legacy from the Americans is the line-up of artillery stands, where the big guns are anchored during the firing trials.

The heart of the Atelier is to the south of the plateau. It is called the Valmy complex. It was built in 1890, and the name of the great victory for French artillery is carved in stone above the main entrance. It’s a curious-looking place: probably designed by some architect who had waited all his life for a chance to use poured concrete, for almost every wall is curved. It stands amid the stone barracks and the metal tank-hangars like a set for some old Hollywood musical, and it’s not difficult to imagine lines of dancers kicking their way along the curved balconies, tap-dancing on the prow, or poking their smiling faces out of the circular windows.

‘Stop a moment,’ Champion told the driver.

‘They’ll move us on,’ he replied.

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