‘The code name for your operation.’
‘Why that particular name?’ Andrea said.
‘Why not? Ever heard of any code name that had any bearing on the operation on hand? It’s the whole essence of it, man.’
‘It wouldn’t, of course,’ Mallory said woodenly, ‘have anything to do with a frontal attack on something, a storming of some vital place.’ He observed Jensen’s total lack of reaction and went on in the same tone: ‘On the Beaufort Scale, Force 10 means a storm.’
‘A storm!’ It is very difficult to combine an exclamation and a moan of anguish in the same word, but Miller managed it without any difficulty. ‘Oh, my God, and all I want is a flat calm, and that for the rest of my life.’
‘There are limits to my patience, Corporal Miller,’ Jensen said. ‘I may–I say may – have to change my mind about a recommendation I made on your behalf this morning.’
‘On my behalf?’ Miller said guardedly.
‘For the Distinguished Conduct Medal.’
‘That should look nice on the lid of my coffin,’ Miller muttered.
‘What was that?’
‘Corporal Miller was just expressing his appreciation.’ Mallory moved closer to the wall-map and studied it briefly. ‘Bosnia-Herzegovina – well, it’s a fair-sized area, sir.’
‘Agreed. But we can pinpoint the spot – the approximate location of the disappearances – to within twenty miles.’
Mallory turned from the map and said slowly: ‘There’s been a lot of homework on this one. That raid this morning on Navarone. The Wellington standing by to take us here. All preparations – I infer this from what you’ve said – laid on for tonight. Not to mention –’
‘We’ve been working on this for almost two months. You three were supposed to have come here some days ago. But – ah – well, you know.’
‘We know.’ The threatened withholding of his DCM had left Miller unmoved. ‘Something else came up. Look, sir, why us? We’re saboteurs, explosives experts, combat troops – this is a job for undercover espionage agents who speak Serbo-Croat or whatever.’
‘You must allow me to be the best judge of that,’ Jensen gave them another flash of his sabretoothed smile. ‘Besides, you’re lucky.’
‘Luck deserts tired men,’ Andrea said. ‘And we are very tired.’
‘Tired or not, I can’t find another team in Southern Europe to match you for resource, experience and skill.’ Jensen smiled again. ‘And luck. I have to be ruthless, Andrea. I don’t like it, but I have to. But I take the point about your exhaustion. That’s why I have decided to send a back-up team with you.’
Mallory looked at the three young soldiers standing by the hearth, then back to Jensen, who nodded.
‘They’re young, fresh and just raring to go. Marine Commandos, the most highly trained combat troops we have today. Remarkable variety of skills, I assure you. Take Reynolds, here.’ Jensen nodded to a very tall, dark sergeant in his late twenties, a man with a deeply-tanned aquiline face. ‘He can do anything from underwater demolition to flying a plane. And he will be flying a plane tonight. And, as you can see, he’ll come in handy for carrying any heavy cases you have.’
Mallory said mildly: ‘I’ve always found that Andrea makes a pretty fair porter, sir.’
Jensen turned to Reynolds. ‘They have their doubts. Show them you can be of some use.’
Reynolds hesitated, then stooped, picked up a heavy brass poker and proceeded to bend it between his hands. Obviously, it wasn’t an easy poker to bend. His face turned red, the veins stood out on his forehead and the tendons in his neck, his arms quivered with the strain, but slowly, inexorably, the poker was bent into a figure ‘U’. Smiling almost apologetically, Reynolds handed the poker over to Andrea. Andrea took it reluctantly. He hunched his shoulders, his knuckles gleamed white but the poker remained in its ‘U’ shape. Andrea looked up at Reynolds, his expression thoughtful, then quietly laid the poker down.
‘See what I mean?’ Jensen said. ‘Tired. Or Sergeant Groves here. Hot-foot from London, via the Middle East. Ex-air navigator, with all the latest in sabotage, explosives and electrics. For booby-traps, time-bombs and concealed microphones, a human mine-detector. And Sergeant Saunders here – a top-flight radio operator.’
Miller said morosely to Mallory: ‘You’re a toothless old lion and you’re over the hill.’
‘Don’t talk rubbish, Corporal!’ Jensen’s voice was sharp. ‘Six is the ideal number. You’ll be duplicated in every department, and those men are good. They’ll be invaluable. If it’s any salve to your pride, they weren’t originally picked to go with you: they were picked as a reserve team in case you – um – well –’
‘I see.’ The lack of conviction in Miller’s voice was total.
‘All clear then?’
‘Not quite,’ Mallory said. ‘Who’s in charge?’
Jensen said in genuine surprise: ‘You are, of course.’
‘So.’ Mallory spoke quietly and pleasantly. ‘I understand the training emphasis today – especially in the Marine Commandos – is on initiative, self-reliance, independence in thought and action. Fine – if they happen to be caught out on their own.’ He smiled, almost deprecatingly. ‘Otherwise I shall expect immediate, unquestioning and total compliance with orders. My orders. Instant and total.’
‘And if not?’ Reynolds asked.
‘A superfluous question. Sergeant. You know the wartime penalty for disobeying an officer in the field.’
‘Does that apply to your friends, too?’
‘No.’
Reynolds turned to Jensen. ‘I don’t think I like that, sir.’
Mallory sank wearily into a chair, lit a cigarette, nodded at Reynolds and said, ‘Replace him.’
‘What!’ Jensen was incredulous.
‘Replace him, I said. We haven’t even left and already he’s questioning my judgement. What’s it going to be like in action? He’s dangerous. I’d rather carry a ticking time-bomb with me.’
‘Now, look here, Mallory –’
‘Replace him or replace me.’
‘And me,’ Andrea said quietly.
‘And me,’ Miller added.
There was a brief and far from companionable silence in the room, then Reynolds approached Mallory’s chair.
‘Sir.’
Mallory looked at him without encouragement.
‘I’m sorry,’ Reynolds went on. ‘I stepped out of line. I will never make the same mistake twice. I want to go on this trip, sir.’
Mallory glanced at Andrea and Miller. Miller’s face registered only his shock at Reynolds’s incredibly foolhardy enthusiasm for action. Andrea, impassive as ever, nodded almost imperceptibly. Mallory smiled and said: ‘As Captain Jensen said, I’m sure you’ll be a great asset.’
‘Well, that’s it, then.’ Jensen affected not to notice the almost palpable relaxation of tension in the room. ‘Sleep’s the thing now. But first I’d like a few minutes – report on Navarone, you know.’ He looked at the three sergeants. ‘Confidential, I’m afraid.’
‘Yes, sir,’ Reynolds said. ‘Shall we go down to the field, check flight plans, weather, parachutes and supplies?’
Jensen nodded.