Where Eagles Dare

by Alistair MacLean

‘Not Smith.’ Wyatt-Turner shook his head positively. ‘Some people have a sixth sense. Smith has a seventh, eighth and ninth and a built-in radar set for danger. Smith can survive under any circumstances I can conceive of. I didn’t pick him with a pin, sir. He’s the best agent in Europe.’ ‘Except possibly yourself. And don’t forget, Colonel, there may possibly be circumstances that even you can’t conceive of.’ ‘Yes, that’s so.’ He looked directly at Rolland. ‘What do you reckon his chances are?’ ‘Chances?’ Rolland’s eyes were remote, unseeing. ‘What do you mean, chances? He doesn’t have any.’

‘If they are who they claim to be,’ Smith said quietly, ’it would be reasonable, would it not, my dear Kramer, to expect them to be able to write the names and the addresses or contacts of our agents in England and of the British agents who have been supplanted on the Continent by our men.’ He paused significantly. ‘And then compare their lists with the genuine one in my book there.’

‘Broadsword calling Danny Boy,’ Smith said urgently, insistingly. ‘Broadsword calling Danny Boy. For God’s sake, why don’t they answer?’ ‘They can’t come round the corner of the passage without being sawn in half.’ Schaffer spoke comfortably from his uncomfortable horizontal position on the floor. ‘I can hold them off to Christmas. So what’s the hurry?’ ‘Broadsword calling Danny Boy. Broadsword calling Danny Boy. How long do you think it’s going to be before someone cuts the electricity?’ ‘For God’s sake, Danny Boy,’ Schaffer implored. ‘Why don’t you answer? Why don’t you answer?’ ‘Danny Boy calling Broadsword.’ The voice on the radio was calm and loud and clear, so free from interference that it might have come from next door. ‘Danny Boy—’ ‘One hour, Danny Boy,’ Smith interrupted. ‘One hour. Understood? Over.’ ‘Understood. You have it, Broadsword?’ The voice was unmistakably that of Admiral Rolland. ‘Over.’ ‘I have it,’ Smith said. ‘I have it all.’