For some time now, the thought of the live bomb in the yard, and the possibility of another cave-in, had no longer been Kinch's only concerns. There was something else, an insidious, long-term threat which would soon come into effect. Even though there were air pockets in the earthfall, there was no flow-through, no real ventilation, and no way for the buildup of carbon dioxide to be cleared. It wasn't yet a major risk, but the longer Carter was imprisoned, the worse it was going to get.
In spite of this, Kinch took time to inspect the obstruction of the recreation hall tunnel with due care. They'd already taken more chances than they should, back in the main tunnel. If they messed up in here, not only might they risk serious injury to the rescue party, but they could lose all hope of reaching Carter at all. With LeBeau behind him hopping impatiently from one foot to the other, he looked over the whole situation before speaking.
Just soil; no great jagged spikes of wood to deal with. It was manageable.
"Okay," said Kinch. "Three men at a time, digging; the rest moving the earth out. Pack it into sandbags and stack them outside the back wall of the building. The guards are nearly all hiding behind their barracks waiting for the bomb to go off, so they won't notice. Be careful about shoring up. One more collapse, and we can forget about getting Carter out of there."
In the main tunnel, the noise of shifting earth seemed to have died away, or so Carter thought anyway. He was completely focused on the sound of Newkirk's voice as he read out the German code; it almost felt as if he was detached from himself, watching from a distance while someone else tapped out the message on the Morse transmitter. It was a weird sensation, and he didn't like it, but there didn't seem to be much he could do about it.
Newkirk's voice was getting ragged; the gritty atmosphere down here was doing him no good at all. He cleared his throat, and took a long drink of water from the canteen LeBeau had left with him. He knew he wasn't getting through as clearly as he had been, and he hadn't heard Carter speak for some minutes.
"You okay there, Andrew?" he called.
"Yeah. I'm fine." Carter sounded very distant. It was worrying.
In the yard, the disarming process had reached the critical point. With great care, Hogan reached into the bomb casing and drew out the part he had been looking for.
"Is that the fuse?" whispered Klink, peering over his shoulder.
"Uh-huh." Hogan was perspiring, but not from the heat of the sun. He leaned his head back to allow Schultz to wipe the sweat from his forehead; his voice was scarcely audible as he thanked the sergeant.
He held out his hand. "Wire cutters."
Klink quickly handed him the required tool.
"What are you waiting for?" he demanded impatiently a few seconds later, as Hogan seemed lost in thought. "Cut the wire."
"That's the problem," replied Hogan, studying the two wires, one black, one white. "One of these wires disconnects the fuse, the other one fires the bomb."
He was breathing faster than normal.
"Which one would you cut, Schultz?"
Schultz looked as if he'd just been asked to decide whether he'd rather be drowned or hanged. "Don't ask me," he stammered. "This is a decision for an officer."
The perfect non-com; he never took responsibility for anything. No wonder he was still a sergeant.
"Alright," sighed Hogan, turning to his other companion. "Which wire, Colonel Klink?"
The Kommandant's face seemed to grow longer. He hesitated, then pointed at the white wire. "This one."
Hogan delicately took the wire between his thumb and forefinger, lifting it slightly. "You're sure?"
For a moment, Klink seemed about to change his mind; then he answered, abruptly and with unusual determination. "Yes."
Hogan didn't say a word. He raised the cutters toward the wire. Klink tensed; Schultz closed his eyes. The blades closed towards the wire, and Hogan turned his face away.
For a brief eternity all three men waited for the explosion. Klink was the first to relax, his shoulders dropping and an expression of offended exasperation crossing his face as he realised what Hogan had just done. The wire he had indicated was intact; at the last second, Hogan had changed line, and snipped the black one instead.
The cutters clanked harmlessly against the bomb casing as they fell from Hogan's hand onto the ground.
"If you knew which wire it was," said Klink, in a low, indignant voice, "why did you ask me?"
For once, Hogan couldn't be bothered playing games. He answered the Kommandant as frankly as if he were speaking to one of his own men. "I wasn't sure which was the right one. But I was certain you'd pick the wrong one."
He drew back, and got wearily to his feet. "The rest can wait for your bomb disposal guys. Excuse me, Kommandant. I think I need to lie down."
Ignoring Klink's protest, he headed off toward the barracks, but he had no intention of resting. He had been deeply concerned ever since he felt that momentary vibration beneath the ground. He had to know what was going on.
At first there was no detectable human sound in the tunnel, and his heart rate jumped as the possibilities danced around in his mind. Then, as he neared the area below the centre of the compound, he became aware of a voice. Newkirk; and he sounded quite calm.
Hogan rounded a curve in the tunnel, and stopped dead, gazing dumbstruck at the mass of earth in front of him. Then he shook his head, and walked to where Newkirk, standing on the top rung of a short ladder, was talking slowly into some kind of gap in the barrier.
The movement caught Newkirk's eye, and he turned his head. A smile swept across his face.
"Carter," he said, "this isn't part of the code. Just thought you'd like to know, there's one less thing to worry about. The bomb won't be going off."
Hogan couldn't hear the reply, but he didn't like the sound of Newkirk's voice; it was getting distinctly rough. "What's going on?" he demanded.
"Long story, Colonel. But the short version is, Carter's in there, with the radio; I'm out here with the code. Everyone else is under the recreation hall, digging." His voice cracked, and he coughed.
The explanation, though brief, was clear enough. Hogan held out his hand. "Give that to me," he said. "I'll finish it, Newkirk. Get out of here."
Newkirk shrugged, and descended from his perch, letting Hogan take his place; but he made no move towards the barracks. "Told him I'd stay as long as he was down here," he explained huskily. "From the top of that page, sir."
Carter scarcely noticed the change in voice. He was tired, he ached all over, and his entire concentration was needed to understand the code and transmit it with accuracy. Completely immersed in the task, he had lost any sense of time and place, and the faint sounds made by the rescue party working in the tunnel behind him made no impression at all.
"That's it, Carter. You can sign off now."
Well, that didn't make any sense. It wasn't like any code he'd ever heard before.
"Sorry, Newkirk. Could you repeat that last bit?"
"There is no more, Carter. You can sign off."
They'd done it. In spite of the cave-in, the loss of the radio, and the bomb just above, they'd managed to get the code to London. Carter ended the transmission, and switched off the radio, then folded his arms on top of it and laid his head down on them.
"Carter? You still with us? Talk to me." It suddenly dawned on him; that wasn't Newkirk, it was Colonel Hogan. Carter knew he should answer. The colonel would be real mad if he didn't. But he just couldn't find the energy.
"Carter! Come on, André. Wake up." That wasn't Newkirk, either. Because Newkirk was on the other side of the collapse, so it must be someone else who was shaking his arm, and shouting in his ear.
"Quit it, LeBeau," he muttered, and tried to swat the irritating presence away. But it wouldn't go. Then someone grasped his shoulders and lifted him up, and he felt a light slapping against his cheek. He blinked, and tried to focus.
"Kinch...?"
"Yeah, it's me. Can you stand, Carter? We don't want to hang around."
Carter looked past him, towards the recreation hall tunnel, which had been so effectively blocked. There was a narrow opening there now. The excavation party had wasted no time; they'd got through at record speed.
Kinch and LeBeau hauled him to his feet. "I can walk," he protested, and shook them off. Kinch caught him before he hit the floor.
"Sure you can, Andrew," he said. Then he raised his voice. "Newkirk, we've got him. You can get out of there."
Newkirk exhaled sharply, and leaned back against the fallen earth, then staggered as it slid from under him. "Blimey, I was starting to think..."
"Yeah, I know," said Hogan quickly. "Come on, before anything else goes wrong."
He slid down from the ladder and ran for it, with Newkirk just behind him.
Outside, the compound was still practically deserted. Schultz remained guarding the disarmed bomb from what he considered a safe distance; any further away and he'd be outside the gate.
The sensible thing would be to stay indoors and wait for news.
"Recreation hall, Colonel?"
"Yep."
To avoid being seen, they went out the back window and stole between the other barracks till they reached their goal. By the time they got there, most of the rescue party had returned to the barracks by the same route. Only Kinch and LeBeau remained with Carter. He was sitting on the floor, Kinch supporting him with an arm around his shoulders, while LeBeau fussed around the pair of them.
"Carter, if you ever frighten us like that again..." Newkirk broke out.
"Take it easy, Newkirk. He's okay, or at least he will be," said Kinch.
"You sure?" Hogan was gazing keenly at Carter.
"I'm fine, sir. Honest." Carter looked up at him, then dropped his gaze to the floor. Any second now, someone was going to start in on him, for having got himself and the fake bomb stuck in the tunnel.
Nobody did. "Let's get back to the barracks," said Hogan. "Newkirk, LeBeau, you go first. Carter..."
Okay, here it comes, thought Carter, and braced himself.
The colonel regarded him gravely, then relaxed into a slow grin.
"Good job, Carter," he said.
It took Carter several seconds to take it in. He wasn't in trouble. Even better; he'd done something right.
Kinch spoke up. "Colonel, we may have a problem. I had a look while we were down there, and I'm surprised the whole centre of the yard hasn't already fallen in."
"Can we get in there and brace it?"
"I doubt it. It's likely to cave in any time now, and we'll have a hole twenty feet wide, right in front of the Kommandant's office. And that's going to take some explaining."
There was a thoughtful silence while they both tried to come up with a plausible way to account for the appearance of a crater in the centre of camp. The answer was obvious, but neither of them liked it.
With a sigh, Hogan turned to the explosives expert. "Carter, you know that bomb I just finished defusing...?"
