Touch the Devil (The Liam Devlin Novels) by Jack Higgins

Author:Jack Higgins [Higgins, Jack]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Open Road Media
Published: 2010-06-21T16:00:00+00:00

The rain had increased into a solid driving downpour since Barry had gone and it was not too pleasant crouched out of sight behind a greystone wall in the trees at the side of the road. Varley had a half bottle of Scotch from which he took frequent swallows.

Preston said, ‘You really are a daft bastard, aren’t you?’

‘Mind your own sodding business,’ Varley snarled. ‘Nobody tells me what to do. Not you and certainly not Mr God-Almighty Sinclair.’ He emptied the bottle and dropped it to the ground. ‘I’ll fix him when I’m good and ready.’ He put a finger to his nose. ‘You see if I don’t.’

Preston shook his head in disgust. Varley was a liability, not only now but for the future, so much was obvious. On the other hand, who needed him? Preston caressed the barrel of the Sterling and stiffened, suddenly alert at the sound of an engine.

‘Here, I think he’s coming.’

A moment later the Land-Rover appeared. Barry turned it across the road, got out and moved through the trees to join them.

‘Everything all right?’ Preston demanded.

‘Fine,’ Barry told him. ‘Two vehicles. A jeep leading that’s got three in it, followed by a three-ton truck. The driver and a sergeant in the cab, half a dozen Krauts in the back. That means three grenades. I’ll slip the first one into the jeep when I go to talk to them. You and Varley take the truck, one in the cab, another in the back.’

‘Fine by me, General.’ Varley saluted drunkenly.

Barry bent down, picked up the empty whisky bottle and threw it from him with a curse. He grabbed the big man by the front of his battledress. ‘Spoil this for me, you drunken pig, and I’ll blow your head off. That’s a promise.’

There was no time for more, for suddenly there was the deepening note of an engine as a vehicle started up the hill.

‘All right,’ Barry said. ‘Get your masks on,’ and he turned and ran down to the road. He opened the door of the Land-Rover, got his gas mask, slung it around his neck and stood there waiting. The German Major of Artillery was in the rear seat of the jeep while the young English Captain sat up front beside the driver, half turned towards him while they spoke. He didn’t see Barry until the driver drew his attention to him and slowed.

The Captain said, ‘I wonder what this is all about?’ and wound down the window. ‘What’s going on?’ he demanded as Barry approached.

‘Change of plan, old boy, didn’t they tell you?’ Barry said. ‘Well, isn’t that bloody typical?’

He pulled the pin and lobbed the gas grenade through the open window, turning away instantly to pull his mask up over his face.

Preston and Varley ran out from the trees, Preston cutting across the road to the rear of the truck, tossing his grenade over the tailboard.

It was Varley who fouled things up. He pulled the pin of his grenade as he ran forward, tripped and went sprawling, the grenade rolling away from him in a curl of white smoke.

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