"Carter, this is insane." Wilson had followed Carter to the wardrobe storage area, protesting every step of the way. "We should get some of the guys from the other barracks to go after Staller. You're not fit for this. Neither is Mills."
"Mills doesn't have to come along," replied Carter, as he scrambled into the Luftwaffe captain's uniform he'd used a few days before.
Mills didn't say a word. He'd already made his position clear on that. If Carter left camp, Mills was going with him.
Wilson threw up his hands. "I don't know why I bother," he grumbled. "Nobody round here ever listens to medical advice. At least let me see how your stitches are holding up."
"Don't have time," said Carter. "He's already got fifteen minutes on us."
"Listen, Carter, he must have heard us talking in the lab, he knows you guys are on to him," Wilson persisted. "He already pulled a knife on Mills - "
"I'm pretty sure that was an accident," Mills put in. "I surprised him, he didn't know I was there. I guess it was just a reflex."
"Yeah, well, those reflexes could get someone hurt," Wilson snapped back. "I don't see any sense in it, Carter. You don't even know which way he went."
"I got an idea," Carter replied, flushing. "Newkirk's supposed to be meeting Karl Weber on the Hammelburg road today. One thing you gotta say for Staller, he looks after his own men." The color in his face deepened. "I bet anything you like, he's gone to warn Weber that we're on to them. We gotta get there before Newkirk does, or he could get hurt."
For a few seconds Wilson regarded him with exasperation, before he turned and started rifling through the racks of German uniforms. "Well, I guess you and me are going, too, Kellet," he said over his shoulder
"No way." Kellet, who had trailed along behind the others, broke into immediate objection. "It's broad daylight, what if the guards spot us? A feller could get shot out there."
"Well, it's always possible Staller went straight to the front gate to report to Klink," said Mills. "In that case, you could get shot right here in the tunnel." He pulled the uniform topcoat over his shoulders, wincing at the pain it caused him. He didn't particularly want Kellet with them, but at least if he came along, they'd know what he was up to. So he kept talking. "But don't put yourself out over it. If you're chicken, you're probably no use anyway."
Kellet wasn't sitting down under anything like that, not from Mills. He growled under his breath, then snatched the uniform from Wilson's hands.
Carter was already dressed. He checked his pistol before putting it into his holster. "I'll wait at the emergency exit," he said. "You guys have got three minutes, then I'm going."
"Not on your own," said Mills. "We'll be there."
Carter nodded, and disappeared without another word.
"What's gotten into him, Mills?" asked Wilson, changing rapidly into a slightly oversized private's uniform.
"Tell you later," replied Mills, knowing he would do no such thing. But he didn't want to get into an argument now. "I'd better go after him, make sure he doesn't take off on us." He donned his steel helmet, snatched up his rifle, and slipped away before Wilson could stop him.
He found Carter at the foot of the ladder leading to the emergency exit in the woods, one hand on the wall, the other pressed against his side. His face was drawn, but not with pain.
"Carter, are you scared?" said Mills.
"Yeah." Carter sounded subdued. "I'm real scared."
"Then let me and Wilson deal with it. You don't have to do this."
"Yeah, I do," replied Carter, gazing up towards the exit. "There's something I thought of, back in the lab. It's probably really dumb, but...but I gotta see if I'm right."
"What was it?" asked Mills, as Carter seemed reluctant to say more.
"I'd rather not say, in case I'm wrong. 'Cause if nobody else thought of it...well, I'm not that smart, Mills, it's probably a really stupid idea."
"You're smarter than you think, Carter," said Mills. "Suppose you tell me what's bugging you? Maybe I can check on it, or Wilson can. You don't have to..."
"You can't," Carter interrupted. "I have to go see for myself. But, gosh, I hope I'm wrong. I don't want to be right."
Mills didn't like the sound of it, and he was about to press for more details, when Wilson arrived, with a resentful Kellet trailing behind him. Carter took a deep breath, getting himself into mission mode. "Okay, this is how we do it," he said. "First guy out is the most likely to be spotted. So I'll go first. The rest of you wait one minute, then if you don't hear any shooting, you follow, one at a time. Wait at the top till I open the hatch, that way I can make sure it's safe. Mills, you bring up the rear. Okay?"
He had automatically steadied, as he went on. He had done this many times, though only rarely in daylight, and he knew the procedure. Without thinking about it, he was taking charge, not just because he was senior in rank, but because he had the most experience at this. The others responded to the change in his tone, even Kellet indicating surly agreement.
Carter nodded, and started the ascent. It was slow, and more painful than he'd anticipated, but he had no choice, not since that sudden moment of illumination back in the lab. If this new idea was right, awful as it was, then everything made sense. But it was something nobody except Carter himself could confirm. He couldn't confide in anyone, not even Mills, who already knew practically all there was to know. If only Colonel Hogan was here...!
He reached the top of the ladder, and cautiously pushed up the hatch. This was the most dangerous moment, as the emergency exit was within sight of the front gate and the sentry tower. If any of the guards happened to see him, this whole excursion would come to a very quick, very messy end. But he was lucky, the Krauts were all looking elsewhere. He tumbled out, and crouched behind the fake tree stump, biting his lower lip and counting seconds.
At one minute, he raised his head a little. No good, the man in the guard tower was looking this way. Carter dropped back, and waited, and after a few seconds the guard turned back to check the activity in the compound. Quickly, Carter lifted the hatch over the tunnel to let Wilson scramble out, then Kellet. Another interruption, as the arrival of the motorcycle courier with the official mail got the guards on the gate looking in their direction, before Mills was able to join them.
Staller now had a lead of half an hour, if he was in fact heading for the rendezvous point. But his knowledge of the area was limited to his one trip to Hammelburg with Hogan, and that had been at night. His lack of familiarity was sure to slow him down, whereas Carter knew the woods well enough to have no hesitation in choosing the correct path. He set off in the lead, fast enough to result in further grumbles from the recalcitrant Kellet.
There was no sign of the major, but that wasn't surprising, the woods were very dense just here.
Wilson dropped to the rear, the better to keep both Mills and Carter under his eye. He wasn't worried about Kellet, but Mills wasn't doing so well, and Carter's nervous tension grew more apparent with every passing minute.
"How much further is it?" asked the medic eventually.
Carter stopped, leaning one hand against the nearest tree trunk. "Not far," he panted. "That's the road just down there. The Flensheim turnoff is about half a mile - "
He broke off abruptly, turning his head.
"Oh, shit, that was a gunshot," said Kellet.
Carter was the first to recover his wits, completely forgetting his pain in a surge of dread. It wasn't yet eleven hundred hours, but if Newkirk had turned up early...
He hurtled down the slope towards the meeting point, somehow avoiding the protruding roots and rocks in his path, covering the distance faster than he'd ever moved in his life. Before he got there, a movement across a narrow break in the trees to his left brought him to a halt. Someone was there, and even as Carter caught sight of him, the man reached the edge of the clearing and fell to the ground. Without stopping to think, Carter ran towards him.
He knew it wasn't Newkirk by the clothes. But it wasn't till he got close that he realized it was Staller. He'd been wounded in the upper arm and was bleeding freely, but was trying desperately, without success, to get back on his feet.
"Let me have a look." Wilson had been close behind Carter all the way, and now he pushed past and dropped on one knee beside Staller.
Completely bewildered, Carter swung round, scanning the woods for any sign of motion, his own pistol in his hand, though he didn't remember getting it out. It was beyond his ability right now to reason how Staller had gotten himself shot, or who was responsible. But as he gazed around, another man, fair-haired, slightly built, wearing Luftwaffe uniform, emerged from the trees where Staller had first come into sight.
Carter froze, shocked, then the reflex of sheer panic jerked him into motion. But his shot went wide, and without a word, the Luftwaffe captain fled.
"Jesus, Carter!" snapped Kellet from behind him. "You can do better than that." Without waiting for an answer, he took off in pursuit, still hobbling but covering ground all the same.
Mills took one quick look at Carter. "You better wait here," he added quickly, and went after Kellet. Carter stared after them, almost numb with disbelief.
"Carter." The whisper came from the barely conscious Staller. "I didn't know...I thought...he was one of ours..."
"Save your breath, major," said Wilson. "You lost a lot of blood, don't exert yourself." He glanced at Carter, who still hadn't moved. "Who was that, anyway? The guy who's supposed to be meeting Newkirk? What was his name again?"
Carter didn't even hear him. He'd never met Karl Weber, but he had recognized the man on sight, and his stomach knotted as he tried to come to grips with the fact that he'd been right, that his almost incredible suspicion had turned out to be true. It was almost a relief.
At least now he knew why Staller had been so desperate to get rid of him.