Free Shadows of War by Michael Ridpath Page B

German. As Conrad fell, he saw Klop running across the road, firing as he did so, and heard the shattering of a windscreen.
    Conrad wriggled to try and break free of the man holding him, but the German stuck a Luger against Conrad’s temple. ‘ Keine Bewegung! ’ he growled.
    Conrad froze. He stared at the scene unfolding before him. The Germans had hold of both Payne Best and Stevens and were firing at Klop, who was in the open, but dodging from right to left, firing back wildly. The German holding Conrad jerked and let out a curse. He had been hit in the thigh. From the corner of his eye, Conrad saw the man’s pistol waver, so he spun and hit him hard across his neck with the side of his hand. The pistol went off harmlessly into the air. The man dropped to the ground, and Conrad ran for the woods.
    As Conrad ducked into the trees, he saw Klop crumple in the roadway. Conrad crashed through the thick undergrowth for about ten yards. He realized he was out of sight of the Germans, so he dived under a holly bush and lay flat. Running, he would be a target, like Klop. Hidden, he would be safe as long as the Germans didn’t take the time to search the woods. He was gambling they wouldn’t; they had almost certainly got Payne Best and Stevens, and from the Germans’ point of view the sooner they were back over the border the better.
    He heard the two vehicles accelerate off.
    He looked up, couldn’t see any Germans in the wood, and so, at a crouching run, scurried to the edge of the trees to take a look.
    One of the cars was speeding to the shattered Dutch barrier. The other car halted next to Klop’s body lying in the road. Two men slung him into the back. Payne Best and Stevens were being frogmarched towards the border with Germans holding machine pistols at their backs. Schämmel accelerated past them in his own vehicle. The big black dog stood in the road barking.
    Shouting came from the Dutch customs house, but no sign of armed soldiers yet. Within a few seconds, all the Germans and their captives were under the black-and-white German barrier, which swished downwards.
    The often-uttered words of Colonel Rydal ran through Conrad’s head. What a shambles.

11
    Whitehall, London, 10 November
    Conrad sipped the cup of coffee thoughtfully provided by Mrs Dougherty as he sat and waited outside Sir Robert Vansittart’s office. He was tired and hungry.
    ‘You don’t happen to have a biscuit, by any chance, Mrs Dougherty?’ he asked.
    ‘I’m afraid not, Mr de Lancey,’ said the Chief Diplomatic Adviser’s secretary, with a look that suggested horror at his temerity and determination to take decisive action if he tried to question the Foreign Office’s policy on biscuits. Didn’t he know there was a war on?
    It was sixteen hours since the Germans had snatched Payne Best and Stevens, sixteen disorienting hours. After being interviewed by Dutch military intelligence, Conrad had been bundled on to an RAF Lysander at The Hague and flown to Hendon Aerodrome, from where he had been driven straight to Whitehall and the doors of the Foreign Office.
    The telephone on Mrs Dougherty’s desk buzzed and she picked it up. ‘Sir Robert will see you now.’
    Van looked harassed. Sitting in one of the two chairs in front of his desk was a large man with a florid face and hair brushed back over a wide, shining forehead. His eyes were small and bright blue.
    ‘Lieutenant de Lancey, this is Major McCaigue of the Secret Intelligence Service. Major McCaigue is responsible for counter-espionage. As you can imagine, he is very interested in this affair.’
    Conrad saluted the major and took the seat offered by Van.
    ‘Who is responsible for this fiasco, de Lancey?’ Van asked.
    ‘I don’t know, Sir Robert. It was a mistake to meet Schämmel so close to the border when we were not sure he was genuine.’
    ‘That would be Stevens’s mistake?’
    ‘I really couldn’t say,’ said Conrad.
    ‘And you never met