Read Online Hands of the Traitor by Christopher Wright - Free Book Online Page A

warheads, but several had the locations of operational V1
sites for immediate bombing.
    But Alec felt ill at ease. His site had
been the one -- and he had let Major Jackson down. That was not
strictly true. Possibly the kitbag held some evidence. Speculation
of the contents made him sweat.
    *
    BACK AT the base, Major Jackson tried to
sound positive as he greeted the seven SOE operatives with
hackneyed comments. They were not to worry, he told them; they'd
done a grand job. They were all brave men, and their thirteen
colleagues would no doubt be back in England within a day or two.
Perhaps they'd run into a few small problems. Alec knew he would
never see them again.
    When he entered the room for the
debriefing session the first person he noticed was Major Jackson at
his desk, with two other men beside him. These two were not in
uniform and were not introduced, but they had American accents.
Alec wasn't surprised; this was a joint forces' operation. Men were
selected here for special missions irrespective of nationality.
Even Padre Hawkins was Canadian. He'd developed a special
relationship with the padre, though he rarely went to the camp
church.
    "Captain Rider, we'll speak to you
first. Let's hear how you got on."
    He wondered if he was to be
disciplined for his failure to retrieve the gold samples. He
lowered his eyes as he spoke. "I'm afraid my head took a bit of a
knock."
    "Yes, nasty one that, but the MO
thinks you'll soon be as right as rain. Something in that kitbag
for us?"
    Alec told the parts of the story he could
recall. The name of the Americans? He'd heard Sophie say it. A name
like Heinemann ... or Heinman. That was it. Two Americans called
Heinman. He remembered how Sophie Bernay had taken care to sound
the H which was normally silent in French.
    Major Jackson seemed to be taking
little interest in the news of possible United States involvement.
"We'll make a few inquiries," he said lightly. "But they won't be
American. Some bloody Krauts by the sound of it." He suddenly
smiled. "Can't complain about the place blowing up, can we? Saved
us a bombing raid, what! You must be one hell of a shot with that
plumber's delight."
    "The Sten? Just a lucky hit on the
pilot as he was opening the throttle, Major."
    "Lucky my foot! You're going to get a
gong out of this, you see if you're not. I'm putting your name
forward to the Colonel. He'll give it the highest backing. Now,
let's take a little look in that bag of tricks you've brought
back."
    " No! " He clutched the kitbag tightly to his body, an
involuntary movement that frightened him by its
severity.
    "Oh, come now, Captain. Whatever
you've got in there belongs to the military. You've had a nasty
shock to the system but you'll get over it with a bit of rest in
the country."
    Still he held onto the
kitbag.
    The Major took a deep breath.
He was senior to Alec in both rank and years. "Captain Rider, this
is an order. Open it! "
    Grudgingly Alec loosened the cord and
tipped the bag on its side. The long French knife, streaked brown
with dried blood, rattled across the table.
    Major Jackson laughed as though trying
to coax a reluctant child. "Well, it looks like you put it to good
use. What's next?"
    Alec tipped the bag again. The Major
and the two men gasped with horror as Alec picked up a human hand
wearing a large signet ring on the middle finger.
    " My God, man, what have you
done? " Major
Jackson leapt to his feet and stood back a few paces.
    "It's ... I don't know, sir, I can't
remember." He sat down and began to breathe great gulps of
air.
    Major Jackson came forward cautiously.
"That's one hell of a souvenir to bring back from France, Captain
Rider."
    "Yes, Major. Perhaps when I remember
more about it..."
    Major Jackson peered into the kitbag.
"Any other nasty surprises in store?"
    Three grenades, the Sten, and various
items of clothing. Nothing else. Tipping the kitbag upside down he
shook it to prove that everything was out.
    A small item fell onto the floor.