Crack of Doom (28 page)

Nikolash went up to him and said: "We've been waiting for you people two hours."

"Hodscha only got to me two hours ago," answered Matuska, withdrawing his outstretched hand.

Nikolash ignored the unfriendly gesture, and looked at the truck. Its canvas was being pushed aside in some places, and a few men peered out. "How many people have you got with you?" he asked.

Matuska turned his gaunt face toward the truck. "Twenty-eight. But no one wants to go to Dobsina."

"Is that so." Nikolash suppressed his anger with difficulty.

"Your own fault," retorted Matuska. He had a shrill voice, and when he spoke, his upper lip drew back, showing his white teeth. "I can't go either," he added.

"Oh, really! You were talking differently a month ago."

"Maybe. But I can't leave my work from one day to the next."

Nikolash tried to get over his disappointment. "You have to turn around," he said.

"Turn? I thought we had to go to Oviz."

"No longer necessary. We're going to Lassupatak."

Matuska walked over to the truck. "To Lassupatak " Matuska told the driver and then remarked to Nikolash: "It was damned hard getting here, the roads are full of German trucks, we were jammed all the way to Szomolnok. I talked to people from KoSice. Your divisions have already been inside the town today, but the Germans sent in an armored division and took it back. I doubt if they can hold it for long, though."

"Hope not," muttered Nikolash. The news alarmed him: he hadn't known anything about an armored division. According to his reports, the Germans had little in the way of reserves: a regiment at Jaszo and two or three battalions in Kosice. "Why do you think they can't hold it for long?"

"Perhaps it's more don't want to than can't," saidMatuska. "You should have seen the traffic: there must have been at least two divisions on the roads. I looked at the signs on the trucks: lance and pine, mostly. And loaded. If they wanted to hold the front, they wouldn't have sent all their trucks back."

"Then why would they have attacked again?"

Matuska lit a cigarette. For a few seconds Nikolash could see his emaciated face, then the match went out. "In this snow they need the roads. Without KoSice they'd never get their trucks out of the mountains. And now I'd like to know what you've got on in Lassupatak."

"You have to bring a captured general from there," Nikolash answered, and gave an account of the situation, which he had rehearsed beforehand. Matuska mustn't hear how things looked in Oviz, or he would have turned on the spot and driven to that village. Nikolash told Matuska that the men had been able to take care of the Germans who had been holed up in Sztraka's house. "And do you know why we were able to take care of them?" he continued. "Because we were reinforced by Arbes and his men—they were surprised by a German patrol and let their prisoners get away! Then they came straight to Oviz. When you get to the hut where the general is, make sure you have men watching every single minute. There may be more Germans in the mountains."

"Do you think it's possible some Germans might get up there before us?" asked Matuska.

"Not if you leave for Lassupatak at once. Even so you must watch out"

"I always do."

The driver turned off the road and on to a wide track leading into the woods to the left. The snow was glittering beneath the headlights but it had stopped falling. Nikolash wound his window down, and looked up at the sky: it was full of stars. The mountain peaks gleamed a bluish white, as if they were covered by glacier ice. "You're getting a bright night for it," he remarked.

Matuska nodded absently. He seemed to be considering something, and in the end said: "You're disappointed."

"Why?"

"Because none of us is going with you."

"Do you expect me to be pleased?"

"It's your people's own fault. You couldn't have picked a more awkward time. Over Christmas men want to stay with their families."

"If that's the only reason," said Nikolash, "I really feel sorry for you. And besides, you've no family."

Matuska gave a thin-lipped smile. "No family, but a business. I have to think of the future. In another six months' time I'll have to fight for my share. There are three saw mills in Meczenef. Before the war I employed two hundred workers, today there are only sixty. I need more men again; you don't pick up skilled workers off the streets. You've no idea, man, how much work is involved in a business as big as this. . . ."

Nikolash listened with mounting irritation. They're all the same, he thought with contempt, none of them can think of anything but their future, their business, their farms, their women and their sheep. Even Matuska, who had started fighting the Germans on his own initiative, before the organization existed! Matuska, of whom Pushkin had once said that he was a cruel, cunning beast, who happened to look like a man. Yet now he seemed no longer able to think of anything but his own petty interests. . . .

The truck moved slowly to a narrow bridge and stopped. Beyond the bridge there was a steep grade. Matuska jumped out and called his men down.

"Everything is clear then, isn't it?" said Nikolash.

"Yes, I think it is." Matuska gripped the lowered window. "In case you come to these parts again sometime, you know my address."

Nikolash nodded. He did not say good-bye to the men.

"When the Germans are out of Prague," Matuska said chattily, T'll go and visit it. There are a few people there who may know what happened to my brothers."

"I wouldn't be too optimistic," said Nikolash.

"I'm not." Matuska took a step back. The truck began to move off. Something inhibited Nikolash from looking out the window again.

CHAPTER

13

In less than half an hour Schmitt met up with Sergeant Roos, Corporal Baumgartner and the rest who had followed his tracks breathlessly. Although he could hardly keep on his feet, he turned at once and hurried back with them toward Oviz from where he had come. To his intense relief the gunfire was still continuing. Kolodzi and his men were still in action.

Counting himself, they were fourteen men in all; Schmitt divided them into three teams. His own team would go straight to the house where the Russian sub-machine gun fire was coming from, while Baumgartner attacked the house from the east. Roos with the third team crossed the road and managed to slip safely into the house where Herbig and Kolodzi greeted him enthusiastically.

Across the street many things then began to happen.

Kubany had spotted Schmitt's team approaching the house, and warned the others. Novakova insisted that they should ambush the Germans, and in consequence the team were allowed to enter the kitchen unmolested after breaking in the window—just as Kubany was climbing out of the window of Margita's room to cut off their retreat.

Schmitt discovered the two bodies, made sure there was no one else in the kitchen, then turned to the door, but could see nothing in the darkness. From somewhere there came the bark of a sub-machine gun, which stopped now and then as if recovering its breath before starting again. He stood there for a few seconds, wondering where Baumgartner was. Since the rear windows had apparently not been watched, it seemed improbable that the partisans had been looking out toward the east side—he shook his head over such negligence. There was something wrong here, and he was about to look around for his men when a tommy-gun rattled off inside the house.

After that he had no time to think: he watched one of the two doors being thrust open, and instinctively dropped on to the floor of the kitchen, feeling for the kitchen door with his foot and kicking it shut. A frightful din started behind him. A rain of sub-machine gun bullets pelted into the kitchen, a voice somewhere yelled his name, a man shrieked as if he had powdered glass in his throat, and finally there were two tremendous explosions in quick succession, which shook the whole house. The silence after that was so complete that Schmitt closed his eyes and lay there for a while in stunned immobility. Then the door opened, and he blinked into the glare of a light. Before him stood Baumgartner. "We've got them, sir."

"Got who?" asked Schmitt.

"The partisans," said Baumgartner, turning round.

Schmitt picked himself up. In the light of the torch he saw two men and a woman. On the floor lay three others, horribly mutilated. Baumgartner had climbed in with his team over the garden shed. Hearing something in the darkness, he fired his magazine empty in the direction of the noise: when he found he had shot an old man, he breathed again, and clambered over the body, coming out on to the landing just in time to save Schmitt from attack by Novakova and the others.

"We gave them the works," Baumgartner explained now, pointing up the stairs. "We were up there when they came out of the door. I threw two hand-grenades down."

"You're a genius," said Schmitt, and then something occurred to him. He ran to the kitchen window and leaned out. Apart from a few footprints and empty cartridges lying around, there was nothing to be seen: the insidious marksman had made his getaway in time. Schmitt only noticed now that the firing had cost him two of his men. They lay in the kitchen, and one was groaning. Baumgartner turned the man on his back. "You won't die," he said, going on to examine the other. "It's caught
him
all right."

Schmitt came up, "Dead?"

"Not quite, sir. He's still breathing."

Schmitt ran to the front door. When he opened it, he saw Roos and seven men coming across the street.

Schmitt saw Kolodzi standing among Roos' men. "What, you're still alive?" he said.

Kolodzi took off the binoculars and handed them to Schmitt, who received them equally without comment, and at once turned to Roos. "We must find a sledge. There are two stretcher cases in the house. They must go to the Jelnice hospital immediately."

He looked at the shot-up car in the street. "Who does that belong to?"

Kolodzi pushed the Fat One forward. "Gestapo from Dobsina, sir.
He
belongs to them too."

"Come inside all of you," Schmitt ordered. The men went back into the house, took the dead out and threw them into the snow. While Baumgartner attended to the wounded, the prisoners were brought into the room and stood against the wall. Schmitt had a blanket hung over the empty window, and lit a paraffin lamp.

As soon as he sat down Teltschik came in with a steaming mess tin, which he put down on the table. "Like some coffee, sir?"

"The things you think of, Max. Have you any more of that stuff?"

"I took along a whole bag of coffee, sir."

"Then brew up some for everybody." Schmitt turned to Kolodzi. "Do you know anything about the general?"

"We had no time to think of the general, sir."

"How did you run into the partisans?"

"Corporal Herbig can tell you that better than I can. I was away for an hour or two."

"You were away," said Schmitt absently. His eye went to the prisoners. Margita stood in the middle. She was gnawing at her lower lip and pulling nervously at her skirt. Arbes and Sztraka hung their heads in resignation. "Well, Corporal," Schmitt went on, "how did it happen?"

"Sergeant Vohringer was really responsible, sir," said Herbig, and gave a brief account, though without mentioning Kolodzi or the red-haired M.P.

When he had finished, Schmitt looked at the fat Gestapoman. "Where did your inspector hear that there were supposed to be three deserters in Oviz?"

"From divisional headquarters, sir," answered the Fat One.

Schmitt considered, but couldn't make rhyme or reason of it, and said to Kolodzi: "Perhaps the general's in this sanatorium."

"Maybe, sir. We can ask the prisoners."

"Yes, do that." Kolodzi spoke to them. The woman looked at him and said something. "She's asking where her father is," he interpreted.

"How should I know? Where was he?"

"In his room apparently. She wants to talk to him."

"If shell tell me where the general is, she can certainly talk to him and I'll let her go as soon as I have the general."

Kolodzi spoke to Margita, then told Schmitt: "She wants to talk to me outside. Also she insists on seeing her father."

"All right, you can go with her, but take another man with you." He watched Kolodzi and Herbig leading the woman out. As he was reaching for his coffee, the Fat One came forward. "I wish to make a report, sir."

Regarding his fleshy face, Schmitt suddenly had an ugly premonition and said impatiently: "Leave it till the morning."

"The thing is urgent, sir," began the Fat One, but something in Schmitt's face warned him in time. He snapped his mouth shut, and stepped to the side, where he stood glaring at Schmitt, who took no notice.

Schmitt was unutterably weary; he waited sleepily till the two men returned with Margita.

"Her father's dead, sir," said Kolodzi. "Baumgartner shot him by mistake."

Schmitt looked at Margita: her eyes were dry. For some obscure reason this relieved him. "Of course she knows nothing of the general," he said.

"She does, sir."

^What!"

"He's in a cabin on the Golden Table. Apparently there's only one man guarding him."

Schmitt looked into Kolodzi's eyes with an expressionless face. "How long does it take to get up there?" he asked after a while.

"She says four hours. She also says that the man who was shooting through the kitchen window lives in the fourteenth house on the right. His name is Kubany."

"That's the man I want," said Schmitt, getting up. He went to the door, called Baumgartner, and told him where Kubany was to be found. "Bring the fellow here, alive or dead." Then he turned back to Kolodzi. "What else does she say?"

"Nothing else of any importance. Her name's Margita Zarnov. If we let her go and don't burn the house down, she'll lead us to the general. But she begs us to shoot the two others, because otherwise they'll denounce her later for showing us the hut."

"She's no fool, is she?"

"A little too clever for my liking," said Kolodzi. "If what she says is the truth, she hasn't anything to do with the partisans. They came into her house and forced her to do what they ordered. That's how she found out where the general's been hidden."

"Too good to be true," Schmitt grunted, and began to pace up and down the room. He was wide awake all of a sudden, and would have liked to set off for the cabin right away. But his men would have dropped after the first hour, and he with them. Besides it would be inadvisable to climb the mountain till dawn; you couldn't be too sure of the woman's trustworthiness.

He remembered the wounded and went outside: they were just being loaded on to a horse-drawn sledge. As he was watching, he heard shots, and swung around toward where they had come from; then he ran down the street, with some of the men following him. He counted as he ran, and stopped at the fourteenth house, waiting for the rest to come up. "It must have been here," panted Roos.

Schmitt went inside and found Baumgartner standing with two men in a small bedroom. He had his flashlight in his hand, and a man in a blood-stained nightshirt lay on the floor with hairy legs outstretched. A woman was sitting up in bed, also in a nightshirt, her face as white as the pillows.

"Who shoots first, dies last," commented Baumgartner, kicking the lifeless body of the man on the floor who had a Russian sub-machine gun lying near him. "He had it in bed. Tried to act stupid, pretending to be asleep, although we had to break in the front door. I pulled him out of bed and he tried to shoot, but he made a mistake."

"So it seems," said Schmitt, glancing at the woman in bed. She was still young, had full lips, and her rather slanting eyes looked green in the light of the torch. Baumgartner turned abruptly and rushed out. He waited for Schmitt outside the house. "Do you feel sick?" Schmitt inquired.

"No, sir, not sick, but . . ."

“But what?"

"I'm married myself, sir," said Baumgartner vaguely.

Walking back, Schmitt noticed the house where Kolodzi and his men had stayed, and decided to look through it. The front door was ajar, and he shone his flashlight on to the passage. On the right he noticed a man's boots, the rest of the body being covered with a white sheet. He went over and lifted the sheet off the face: it was completely unfamiliar, perhaps the man had also been a member of the Gestapo. In another room he found Vohringer. He looked down at him for a moment, then raised his flashlight to the shattered windows. There were empty cartridge cases all over the floor. Schmitt returned to the passage, shaking his head as he passed the body of the unknown man: he could not recall Herbig mentioning anything about
him.

Outside it had grown lighter. Schmitt looked up at the sky to realize that the clouds had broken and the stars were twinkling through. Nice weather tomorrow, he thought indifferently.

Inside the men were sitting at the table, filling their mess tin lids with coffee from a big saucepan; the prisoners were still standing against the wall. Schmitt had Teltschik bring him something to eat, and sat down with the others.

"What are you going to do with the partisans, sir?" asked Kolodzi, chewing on a piece of bread.

"We'll see about that tomorrow," Schmitt answered. He sent Herbig out to find a safe place for the prisoners, but kept the woman in the room, afraid they might intimidate her. "One thing more"—he looked at Herbig—"Sergeant Vohringer had a stomach wound, you say?"

"Yes, sir."

"And the other man?"

Herbig flinched. "Who do you mean, sir?"

"There's another body in that house," said Schmitt, turning to the fat man. "He's one of your lot, I suppose."

"Yes, sir. They killed him."

The men froze. Schmitt looked from one to the other. "The partisans?" he asked carefully.

"Not the partisans," said the Fat One, thrusting
out
his chin. "This man beat him to death." He pointed to Herbig.

Schmitt sat motionless in his chair, staring at the Gestapo man. None of the others dared to move either, till Kolodzi rose solemnly to his feet. "He was going to shoot me in the back, sir."

"Why?"

"I had a row with him," Kolodzi answered, and began to explain. When Schmitt had heard everything, he sent for Roos and told him to include Kolodzi and Herbig in the guard roster for the night.

Roos glanced in astonishment at his fellow sergeant, but did not venture any comment. Instead he said: "We've got three men with bad bloodblisters on their feet, sir. I've had a look at them myself, they won't be able to do half a mile tomorrow."

"Why didn't you report that to me immediately? We could have sent them away on the sledge."

"The sledge was full, sir."

"Then they'll just have to stay here tomorrow," declared Schmitt after a moment's reflection. He turned to the Fat One again, who had taken up a position near him and was clearing his throat impatiently. "What do you want?"

"I must go to Dobsina, sir, and make a report."

"I'm the only one to decide what you must do."

"I'm responsible only to my office at Dobsina. You can't keep me here."

"I can do more than that with you if I feel like it. You're staving here. I need you tomorrow."

"The Russians will be here tomorrow."

"Who says so?"

"Ask your sergeant."

Schmitt turned to Kolodzi, and suddenly remembered Kolodzi admitting having been away for a few hours. "How do you know that?" he asked.

"I heard it on my way back," answered Kolodzi.

Schmitt regarded him in silence, then said to Roos: "I'm making you responsible for this man staying here." He pointed to the Fat One. "Take him into the kitchen to sleep, and all the others too, except for Sergeant Kolodzi."