one thing is for sure. It isn't true of this present venture. If we can get into Sicily in one piece, if Mr Luciano and Maria between them make the contact we hope for, then many lives will be saved. If we fail, Patton's army will sustain thousands of needless casualties. It's as simple as that.’
There was silence. It was Savage who finally said, ‘When do we go, sir?’
‘Tomorrow night from RAF Hovington in a Lancaster bomber, straight across France and the Mediterranean to Algiers.’
‘And then?’
‘Sicily any time within four or five days after that, depending on the best conditions for the drop. One more thing,. Captain Savage. You and Detweiler will be operating in civilian clothes. You understand what that means if you fall into enemy hands?’
‘They've been shooting Ranger and Commando prisoners in uniform under the terms of Hitler's Kommandobefehl for two years now, sir. I can't see that it makes much difference.’
‘As long as you understand that. Now gather round the map, all of you, and I'll go over the whole thing in detail.’
In Bellona, at the same moment, Vito Barbera was climbing a short wooden ladder to the coffin room above the mortuary. He opened the cupboard at the far end and felt for a hidden catch inside. The entire back, shelves and all, swung open to reveal a cubbyhole, containing a radio receiver and transmitter. He switched on the light, sat down, put on the earphones then waited patiently for the allotted hour as he did three times a week.
He straightened, suddenly excited as he started to receive a signal. He reached for a pencil and made notes. Behind him, the secret door opened and Rosa entered with coffee on a tray.
He motioned her to silence and continued to write. After a while, he took off the headphones and sat there, reading what he had written, a look of astonishment on his face.
‘Is it something important?’ she asked.
‘Carter is returning.’
‘On his own?’ she said.
He shook his head. ‘No, Rosa, not on his own.’
Looking for Carter after supper, Luciano was directed to the firing range in the basement where he discovered Carter and Savage on the firing line. Detweiler was helping the armourer, an Ordnance Corps sergeant-major named Smith, to load.
Luciano stood watching, Carter took careful aim with both hands and squeezed one off, chipping the right arm of one of the replicas of a charging German at the other end.
‘Very good, sir,’ Savage told him. ‘Not if you consider that I was aiming for the heart,’ Carter said. He fired another five rounds and hit the target twice more, once in the neck and again in the arm. ‘Oh, well, I never was much good with handguns.’
‘It's a knack, sir, like anything else,’ Savage said cheerfully and fired, like Carter, doublehanded, but much more rapidly, hitting the general area of the chest in a solid group.
Detweiler said, ‘I don't recall anyone being much better at it than you, Captain.’ Carter turned to Luciano, ‘What about you?’ Luciano hefted one of the Brownings in his hand and shook his head. ‘The trouble with automatics is they can jam.’ He turned to the armourer. ‘What else you got?’
‘Webley .38, sir?’ Smith suggested.
‘Too clumsy.’
‘The only other revolver I have here at the moment is a Smith and Wesson .32 with a threeinch barrel.’
Luciano tried it in his right hand, then the left. ‘That's more like it. You got a silencer for this?’
‘Sure over here.’
Smith got one from the cupboard and screwed it into place. As he handed the weapon to Luciano, Detweiler said, ‘A popgun. You'd need to get damn close to do any good with that. But then, that's your style, isn't it?’
Luciano turned and fired twice very fast, right arm extended, both rounds hitting the heart.
There was a respectful silence. Savage said, ‘I'd say the second round was rather superfluous, Mr Luciano.’
‘I like to cover my bets,’ Luciano told him, ‘And a wounded man can
There was silence. It was Savage who finally said, ‘When do we go, sir?’
‘Tomorrow night from RAF Hovington in a Lancaster bomber, straight across France and the Mediterranean to Algiers.’
‘And then?’
‘Sicily any time within four or five days after that, depending on the best conditions for the drop. One more thing,. Captain Savage. You and Detweiler will be operating in civilian clothes. You understand what that means if you fall into enemy hands?’
‘They've been shooting Ranger and Commando prisoners in uniform under the terms of Hitler's Kommandobefehl for two years now, sir. I can't see that it makes much difference.’
‘As long as you understand that. Now gather round the map, all of you, and I'll go over the whole thing in detail.’
In Bellona, at the same moment, Vito Barbera was climbing a short wooden ladder to the coffin room above the mortuary. He opened the cupboard at the far end and felt for a hidden catch inside. The entire back, shelves and all, swung open to reveal a cubbyhole, containing a radio receiver and transmitter. He switched on the light, sat down, put on the earphones then waited patiently for the allotted hour as he did three times a week.
He straightened, suddenly excited as he started to receive a signal. He reached for a pencil and made notes. Behind him, the secret door opened and Rosa entered with coffee on a tray.
He motioned her to silence and continued to write. After a while, he took off the headphones and sat there, reading what he had written, a look of astonishment on his face.
‘Is it something important?’ she asked.
‘Carter is returning.’
‘On his own?’ she said.
He shook his head. ‘No, Rosa, not on his own.’
Looking for Carter after supper, Luciano was directed to the firing range in the basement where he discovered Carter and Savage on the firing line. Detweiler was helping the armourer, an Ordnance Corps sergeant-major named Smith, to load.
Luciano stood watching, Carter took careful aim with both hands and squeezed one off, chipping the right arm of one of the replicas of a charging German at the other end.
‘Very good, sir,’ Savage told him. ‘Not if you consider that I was aiming for the heart,’ Carter said. He fired another five rounds and hit the target twice more, once in the neck and again in the arm. ‘Oh, well, I never was much good with handguns.’
‘It's a knack, sir, like anything else,’ Savage said cheerfully and fired, like Carter, doublehanded, but much more rapidly, hitting the general area of the chest in a solid group.
Detweiler said, ‘I don't recall anyone being much better at it than you, Captain.’ Carter turned to Luciano, ‘What about you?’ Luciano hefted one of the Brownings in his hand and shook his head. ‘The trouble with automatics is they can jam.’ He turned to the armourer. ‘What else you got?’
‘Webley .38, sir?’ Smith suggested.
‘Too clumsy.’
‘The only other revolver I have here at the moment is a Smith and Wesson .32 with a threeinch barrel.’
Luciano tried it in his right hand, then the left. ‘That's more like it. You got a silencer for this?’
‘Sure over here.’
Smith got one from the cupboard and screwed it into place. As he handed the weapon to Luciano, Detweiler said, ‘A popgun. You'd need to get damn close to do any good with that. But then, that's your style, isn't it?’
Luciano turned and fired twice very fast, right arm extended, both rounds hitting the heart.
There was a respectful silence. Savage said, ‘I'd say the second round was rather superfluous, Mr Luciano.’
‘I like to cover my bets,’ Luciano told him, ‘And a wounded man can
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