convoy.
In standard procedure, the jeeps parted before they reached the oasis to make a slow circle of it from opposite sides. It was an inviting place that covered perhaps an acre and nourished a few dozen palm trees that looked well fed along with some other greenery. There would be a waterhole at the middle, Troy thought, and just then he noticed a squatty, boxlike concrete structure with slits that probably were for machine guns. He was swinging his Browning on it when two men in shorts with shirts with hacked-off sleeves sprang from behind it and ran toward the jeep waving their hands and shouting in German at the tops of their voices. Just before Troy almost cut them down with a burst, he remembered Moffitt, Hitch, Tully and he still were wearing the Jerry uniforms they'd put on the night before and he relaxed his hold on the grips. The poor devils probably had been stuck out here alone for months and didn't even question the jeep.
"Stop," he told Tully, handing him a coil of nylon rope. "Walk up to them grinning. I'll keep you covered. Tie their hands behind their backs and secure them together."
The Jerries looked so happy when they saw Tully coming toward them, Troy almost felt sorry for them. He trained the Browning right at their guts. The Jerries got the idea. They saw their mistake fast and started to run. Troy put a burst in the sand at their feet. That stopped them. They cried all the time Tully was tying them together.
"Hey, Tully," Troy called. "Leave them a little play, give them three feet or so. Let them walk side by side, at least."
When Moffitt and Hitch drove up, Troy turned the two Jerries over to Moffitt, asked him to explain they weren't being sent out to die in the desert but that the convoy would be along soon, probably before sunrise. Then Troy gave each one of the canteens he and Moffitt had taken from the Volkswagen.
"How are they going to drink with their hands tied behind them, Sam?" Moffitt asked with an amused glint in his eyes.
"Oh hell, cut them loose," Troy said gruffly. "Just tell them to get going and not to come back."
Armed with submachine guns, Troy and Tully ran to the slitted concrete box. It was open at the back. Machine guns were in position at each of the slits.
"You suppose there's a third?" Tully asked, flattening against the wall and pointing his gun down a flight of concrete steps.
"There was," Troy said tersely and jerked his thumb at a cross under a palm tree a dozen yards away.
Down the steps was a bunker with cots and living facilities. A heavy metal door at the rear led to an underground concrete storehouse. There must have been two hundred hundred-gallon drums of gasoline in the place.
"All right," Troy said, starting up the steps. "You and Hitch fill the jeeps and the cans with gas and water. The doctor and I will plant the packages."
Back at the jeep, he took four plastic time charges from a crate in the back, glancing as he did at the Jerries he'd turned loose. They were half trotting into the desert and they weren't looking back.
Tully and Hitch worked at the double and when they'd taken all the gas and water they could carry, Troy and Moffitt put the four plastic time charges in the middle of the drums, closed the metal door and raced to the jeeps that were waiting with motors idling. As they jumped in their seats and sped off, Troy saw the two Jerries now a good mile away, and not more than a mile or two beyond them the convoy approaching. The Jerries were running. The convoy stopped when it came to the Jerries and the sun was just rising when an entire oasis blew into the sky.
6
Hauptmann Hans Dietrich had a problem. It was the minefield. He was standing in his armored car, radio earphones clamped over his cap and glasses about his neck, a field map beside him on the seat, when the first rays of the sun turned the pink on the horizon to gold. He had spent most of the night studying the locations of the five halftracks that had been lost to the
In standard procedure, the jeeps parted before they reached the oasis to make a slow circle of it from opposite sides. It was an inviting place that covered perhaps an acre and nourished a few dozen palm trees that looked well fed along with some other greenery. There would be a waterhole at the middle, Troy thought, and just then he noticed a squatty, boxlike concrete structure with slits that probably were for machine guns. He was swinging his Browning on it when two men in shorts with shirts with hacked-off sleeves sprang from behind it and ran toward the jeep waving their hands and shouting in German at the tops of their voices. Just before Troy almost cut them down with a burst, he remembered Moffitt, Hitch, Tully and he still were wearing the Jerry uniforms they'd put on the night before and he relaxed his hold on the grips. The poor devils probably had been stuck out here alone for months and didn't even question the jeep.
"Stop," he told Tully, handing him a coil of nylon rope. "Walk up to them grinning. I'll keep you covered. Tie their hands behind their backs and secure them together."
The Jerries looked so happy when they saw Tully coming toward them, Troy almost felt sorry for them. He trained the Browning right at their guts. The Jerries got the idea. They saw their mistake fast and started to run. Troy put a burst in the sand at their feet. That stopped them. They cried all the time Tully was tying them together.
"Hey, Tully," Troy called. "Leave them a little play, give them three feet or so. Let them walk side by side, at least."
When Moffitt and Hitch drove up, Troy turned the two Jerries over to Moffitt, asked him to explain they weren't being sent out to die in the desert but that the convoy would be along soon, probably before sunrise. Then Troy gave each one of the canteens he and Moffitt had taken from the Volkswagen.
"How are they going to drink with their hands tied behind them, Sam?" Moffitt asked with an amused glint in his eyes.
"Oh hell, cut them loose," Troy said gruffly. "Just tell them to get going and not to come back."
Armed with submachine guns, Troy and Tully ran to the slitted concrete box. It was open at the back. Machine guns were in position at each of the slits.
"You suppose there's a third?" Tully asked, flattening against the wall and pointing his gun down a flight of concrete steps.
"There was," Troy said tersely and jerked his thumb at a cross under a palm tree a dozen yards away.
Down the steps was a bunker with cots and living facilities. A heavy metal door at the rear led to an underground concrete storehouse. There must have been two hundred hundred-gallon drums of gasoline in the place.
"All right," Troy said, starting up the steps. "You and Hitch fill the jeeps and the cans with gas and water. The doctor and I will plant the packages."
Back at the jeep, he took four plastic time charges from a crate in the back, glancing as he did at the Jerries he'd turned loose. They were half trotting into the desert and they weren't looking back.
Tully and Hitch worked at the double and when they'd taken all the gas and water they could carry, Troy and Moffitt put the four plastic time charges in the middle of the drums, closed the metal door and raced to the jeeps that were waiting with motors idling. As they jumped in their seats and sped off, Troy saw the two Jerries now a good mile away, and not more than a mile or two beyond them the convoy approaching. The Jerries were running. The convoy stopped when it came to the Jerries and the sun was just rising when an entire oasis blew into the sky.
6
Hauptmann Hans Dietrich had a problem. It was the minefield. He was standing in his armored car, radio earphones clamped over his cap and glasses about his neck, a field map beside him on the seat, when the first rays of the sun turned the pink on the horizon to gold. He had spent most of the night studying the locations of the five halftracks that had been lost to the
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