The Rat Patrol 3 - The Trojan Tank Affair (26 page)

"We'll use the ropes," Moffitt said.

"You mean, pull the car out?" Hitch asked. He sounded shocked.

"Of course not," Moffitt said lightly. "We'll attach one rope to each side of the bonnet and the two of us will walk ahead. The lines are white and Tully will be able to see them. Once we're over the rim, there should be enough light to see."

"They're going to hear the motor," Hitch said.

"I don't think anyone will be alerted," Moffitt said. "It has a distinctive chatter and they'll recognize it as one of their own. Unless it's Dietrich, I don't believe anyone will climb out of bed to investigate. Each will assume it's a patrol car going about some business it's been assigned. If anyone comes after us, we'll just have to make a run for it."

"And the guard?"

"All of a time, you're a bit of a worry body," Moffitt chided. "We shall try to talk our way out, just as we came in. If he chooses not to cooperate, we shall simply have to remove him and make it appear that the Arabs have been in the neighborhood."

The staff cars drove to HQ and after a moment, turned in the direction of the motor pool. The light went on at the back of the building in Dietrich's bedroom, but bit by bit the camp was going dark. Several of the aircraft had already landed, but four or five still circled above. It still was half an hour until midnight, and although Moffitt knew there must be good reason for it, Troy's absence annoyed him. Remaining within the enemy camp after their mission had been accomplished seemed foolish and they had no time to fritter away. If all went well and they encountered no patrols to delay them, it would take at least four hours to reach Bir-el-Alam.

Moffitt now saw light reflected on the ground at the front of HQ, at the other side of the building from the room where the briefing had been held. It aroused his curiosity although it did not trouble him. He supposed Dietrich had thought of some detail he wanted to check out. He did lift his head when the sergeant on guard duty trotted toward the tents and returned a few minutes later from the messhall with a cook. The cook walked away almost immediately and Moffitt smiled. Dietrich had ordered coffee and a sandwich, he thought, suddenly hungry himself.

It was almost midnight and now only a few lights still showed. The last planes were touching down at the airstrip and soon the entire bowl would be silent and black. Moffitt put his ear to the ground, listening for Troy's footsteps and beginning to worry. It was unlike Troy to wait for the very last minute.

The ground at the far side of HQ now reflected light from Dietrich's office and Moffitt sat up uneasily. It was only the campaign plans that were concerning Dietrich, he told himself, but he wished Troy would show up.

"Ain't he come yet?" Tully asked, walking by them. "Maybe you better crawl a ways up the slope. Just in case I'm relieved."

Suddenly Moffitt was startled and shocked by the scream of a siren. Lights appeared everywhere and searchlights on towers flared out across the desert floor toward the tanks.

"They've taken Troy," Moffitt cried, scrambling to his feet. "They're looking for us. Let's go."

He darted up the slope with Hitch and Tully following close behind. He heard a thud as Tully threw away the Mauser he'd been carrying. They raced to the rim and rounded the bowl. Now Tully pulled into the lead.

"I know where the car is," he panted. "Watch yourself. There are ravines."

Moffitt knew what each must be thinking but they could not attempt to rescue Troy. There was no decision to make. They had Jerry's plans for his fantastic offensive. Today was D-day and unless they got to Bir-el-Alam with the recordings, Jerry's great deception would undoubtedly succeed. Troy was their friend but they had to leave him. The fate of tens of thousands of men depended on them. It was hard to be a good soldier at a time like this, Moffitt thought. Whatever the circumstances, you couldn't help feeling you were deserting your own. He didn't want to think of what would happen to Troy but he couldn't help it. Troy was in Jerry uniform and would be shot as a spy.

A patrol car with six men in it shot away from the motor pool and sped through the camp with its searchlight stabbing this way and that The siren moaned and screamed. Everything was in confusion. Thousands of men had tumbled from their cots and milled between the tents like a mob. Motorcycles, staff cars, other patrol cars, drove around in circles. The valley was flooded with lights and the searchlights on the towers were prowling. Two of them had begun to creep up the slopes of the bowl.

Mindless of ravines, the three of them ran at full speed. No one said a word but Moffitt knew what each was thinking. Troy didn't have a prayer of a chance and they were little better off than he. Damn! he thought, why couldn't Troy have let well enough alone and stayed put? They had all they needed in the wire recordings.

The searchlights were working the slope below them carefully and relentlessly, their beams overlapping and moving up by degrees. They were drawing too close for safety and Moffitt dived into a hollow. Hitch and Tully fell flat beside him. The searchlight passed over them and when it swept back, it was higher on the hill.

"We're sunk if they pick up the car," Tully said.

"We can make a break for it if we can reach it," Moffitt said and jumped from the hole, running hard. He saw the camouflaged car as the light brushed over it and stopped, waiting for the beam to come back and hold the car. Apparently the car was not visible from a distance because the light continued roving. They made a final dash and crawled under the net.

A patrol car with its light shooting ahead on the trace ran up to the rim. It had been so close they could see the features of the six men in it as the searchlight passed over them. They had been helmeted and armed with light machine guns.

"Do we skin off the net and make a break?" Tully asked, getting into the driver's seat. Moffitt and Hitch climbed into the back.

The searchlight came back over them and Moffitt could see Hitch and Tully clearly. When the light made another sweep, it was above them. All of them were breathing hard and sweating.

"They're not picking us up," Moffitt said. "Let's wait for a minute and see whether there's a pattern the light follows. If we can get onto the track without being seen, they may think we're a patrol until we get to the guard post."

"We'll have to break through," Hitch said. "Where are the grenades?"

"Here in the front," Tully said, reaching to the floor. "Hey, that's funny. Four of the demolition charges are gone."

"That's how Jerry picked up Troy," Moffitt said and groaned. "He was caught planting charges."

"Damn it," Hitch said resentfully. "He knew better than that. Jerry wasn't supposed to know we'd been here." Hitch was right, Moffitt thought, bitter himself. Some place, Troy had seen an opportunity to damage Jerry and he hadn't been able to resist. As a result, the mission was blown and, quite likely, the Rat Patrol as well.

Below in the camp, some semblance of order was being restored. Men were forming in squads that were going in every direction, spreading across the bottom of the bowl, moving toward HQ and starting toward the rim. They'd search every square inch of the area. It sounded as if all the aircraft were in the sky now. Some made low sweeps over the valley, others flew high cover.

Moffitt had been observing the path of the searchlight that intermittently played over them under the camouflage net. He thought it did follow a pattern, first a sweep that took it across the slope about fifty yards below them, then a return that flared directly on them and came back near the rim. The light played over the car again as it dropped back the slope. Each swing of the light lasted about one minute. That was the time they'd have, one minute to pull off the net and run the car onto the trace, he thought, looking to the slope behind HQ where two searchlights were now directed. Several squads of men were starting to work the slope, some starting in the direction of the airstrip, others coming toward the car. The lights moved with the squads as they advanced. They could wait no longer.

"Get the car started," Moffitt told Tully. "Hitch, we'll get out of the car. Just as soon as the light has passed over us next time, grab your side of the net and run ahead with it. I'll be with you on the other side. Tully, back out. As soon as the car is clear of the net, drop it. Leave it. Jump in the car and we'll move off."

Tully already had the motor running. Moffitt and Hitch stood beside the car. The searchlight spread its beam below. In a minute, it flashed over them. Moffitt ran forward with Hitch holding the net high. Tully slammed the car in reverse out of the ravine and swung it heading toward the trail. Moffitt and Hitch dashed for the car. The searchlight came back and found them, held them in its merciless glare. The searchlight couldn't know who they were, Moffitt thought desperately, dressed as they were in Jerry uniforms, but they were caught where they shouldn't have been.

A figure ran toward them out of the darkness. It was a Jerry. Hitch pulled his pistol as he leapt for the car.

"Don't shoot," Moffitt shouted. "It's Troy."

20

When Troy came to his senses, he was lying in the bottom of a ditch. Sirens were shrieking and prowling lights were searching the slope, stabbing in and out of the ravine where he lay. Moffitt, Hitch, and Tully, he thought at once; they had been taken, one or all of them. He stood shakily, holding his chest where his ribs were bruised, took a cautious step, then another. At least nothing seemed to be broken. He walked to the mouth of the gully and lay on his stomach, looking out over the camp. He saw search parties spreading in every direction and jumped to his feet, running toward the place the car should be. The searchlight stabbed at him and he fell to the ground. The moment it was gone, he was up and running again.

If he could reach the car, he'd try to crash through the guard post although it undoubtedly was heavily guarded now and blocked. If only they had scouted the tanks before Moffitt and Hitch had gone to HQ, he thought. He wondered how they'd been trapped.

The light rushed toward him again and he dived once more into the sand. When he stumbled back to his feet, he thought he glimpsed the camouflaged car ahead before the light ran away. He heard a motor and as the light came back, saw the car just ahead. Tully was at the wheel. Moffitt and Hitch ran toward it. Troy started to call as Hitch swung his pistol at him and then Moffitt was opening the back door and pulling him in. The car spurted ahead, slamming him back in the seat. He reached to the floor and picked up a Jerry light machine gun, shoving it ahead to Hitch. He put another on the seat for himself. Moffitt was holding a gun, leaning over the side of the car. He turned his head slightly and smiled.

Tully slewed onto the track and the car leaped toward the rim. The searchlight stayed with them until the car jumped over the top and they were on the flat desert. Far ahead, lights showed where the guard post must be. Other lights were traveling, inspecting the fence, he thought. The siren still was wailing.

Behind them, a car sprang from the rim, its searchlight shooting ahead. Machine gun fire spattered although they were well out of range. Troy reached to the floor, pulled the pin from a smoke grenade and threw it over the back of the car. Tully continued driving straight for the guard post.

"Angle," Troy shouted. "We don't have time to fight. Turn the car straight east."

"We can't get through the fence," Tully called but he had turned the car as Troy had ordered.

Troy threw a second smoke bomb, this time between the car and the guard post, and they sped without lights as Hitch held a compass and directed a course. The smoke crawled out, making a thick white screen. It apparently confused their pursuers who poked at the smoke with their searchlight as the Rat Patrol ran free.

"We'll lay a plastic charge and blast through," Troy answered Tully.

A car started from the guard post. Troy saw its searchlight racing ahead, but it went to the smoke screen and tried to penetrate the fog-like curtain. Another car bounced over the rim and joined the others as Tully sped on in the direction of the fence they could not see. Jerry would throw after them everything but the mocked-up dummies in the formation, Troy thought, looking overhead but not seeing the planes that he heard.

Tully braked suddenly, throwing them all forward. Troy stood and saw they were only inches away from the fence that was a thickly bunched bramble of barbed wire. He jumped from the car, located a steel post that projected and scooped a trench under the wire. He eased the charge gently toward the post with the butt of his rifle-like MG 42 machine gun. There was a reason for placing the charge at the base of the post. It gave him a reference point that he needed.

He leapt to the slanted hood of the car.

"Back, get way back," he called to Tully. "Turn on your spot and keep it on that post."

The car moved away from the fence and Troy kept his eyes on the post as the searchlight held it. At a safe distance he told Tully to stop.

"Get out, behind the car," he told the others. "Lie flat in the sand."

Standing with one foot on the hood and the other on the fender, he sighted on the post, brought the gun down to the base, squeezed off a burst and jumped. An enormous explosion ballooned white fire and sand high in the sky and the force of the blast caught Troy, spinning him around and slamming him to the ground. He got dizzily to his feet as the others ran to the car. A mile away, the lights of the three cars turned from the smoke and started for the fence. Tully slid behind the wheel and turned off the spot. The others climbed in the car and he drove ahead.

He flicked the light briefly and Troy saw the wire had been broken for a wide jagged stretch. A hole had been dug in the desert and Tully plowed across the crater. As they climbed to the open desert, Troy dropped another smoke bomb behind and they raced to the northwest. They had a few minutes lead, that was all. The one car remaining at the guardpost would probably head directly for the trade route and try to cut them off. And there would be planes.