Cast No Shadow by Peter Sharp (books recommended by bts .txt) 📗

the window shouting and, Kelly presumed, swearing in Spanish. He shrugged his shoulders and smiled at the big Cuban. “It won’t start … Sorry!” The man stopped shouting and looked at Kelly,

“English?”

“Yes,” responded Kelly

“You are with the English woman. Yes?”

Kelly looked puzzled and looked around. “Which woman?” he asked. The Cuban made a deprecating gesture and uttered something under his breath. He looked at the car controls for a few moments then pushed in the choke.

“No accelerator!” he commanded, indicating Kelly should remove his foot from the accelerator. He leaned over and pressed the starter button. The car coughed a few times and sprang into life, purring as well as a pre-war Austin could.

“Go!” he commanded. Kelly was effusive with his thanks, but the Cuban waved him away. Slipping the car into gear he completed the three-point turn and drove the short distance to the road junction. Through his rear-view mirror, he watched the Cubans hurriedly get into their Buick and start the engine. They are going to follow me, thought Kelly; they think I will lead them to the woman.

Kelly remembered that the couple had run down the road to the right, leading to the town centre, so he signalled left and turned in that direction. This way, he thought, if they do follow me, I will be leading them away from their quarry.

He drove up the road towards the hotel and allowed himself a wry smile as he saw through his mirror, the glint of moonlight reflected from one of the Buick’s headlights as the Cubans pulled out and followed without lights.

To his horror, the two fugitives emerged from a side street and flagged him down. They must have doubled back to throw the Cuban thugs off their trail. His own tactic of driving in the opposite direction had had the effect of cancelling their subterfuge. He had inadvertently led the Cubans right to them!

There was a roar from behind as the Buick accelerated and sped past them, slewing to a screeching halt sideways in the road just beyond the couple. Instantly the two thugs were out and advancing towards them, pistols raised.

Kelly jumped out and advanced slowly towards them, talking rapidly in an agitated tone and gesticulating wildly.

“Who are these people?” he said gesturing towards the couple. “Why have I been stopped? What’s going on?!” He manoeuvred himself so the bigger of the two men was between him and the smaller of the two Cubans, thereby completely obscuring him from the view of the latter. The big Cuban raised his pistol as if to strike Kelly.

It was the moment Kelly had been waiting for. He kicked upward, viciously, between the Cuban’s legs, at the same time whipping out his Walther from his waist belt. With a choked cry the big man doubled forward and as he did so Kelly brought his own pistol down with all his force on the wrist of his opponent. With a yelp the Cuban dropped his pistol, unsure whether to clutch his wrist or hold his manhood.

The other Cuban, now aware of the scuffle, turned his pistol on Kelly, but Peregrine was already in motion. Turning sideways she put her full weight into a side kick on the side of the unfortunate Cuban’s knee. Kelly saw the leg take on a 90-degree angle entirely at odds with nature. As the man buckled, she brought the side of her open hand down sharply on his pistol wrist, jolting the weapon from his grip.

Both of the thugs were now writhing on the floor, crying out in agony. Kelly moved swiftly to pick up the discarded weapons then motioned the others to get into the Buick, still ticking over in the road. Once they were inside, he moved the automatic gearshift to ‘drive’, spun the car on the handbrake and headed north.

“To the Sierra Maestra!” shouted the young student. “I have comrades there. They will take care of you.”

“No!” said Kelly decisively. “Guantanamo! We will have to take our chances with the Americans. Guide me!” he told the student.

“Very well,” Negrin said grudgingly. “But I urge you to seek shelter with the comrades. You will never reach Guantanamo without being picked up. In any case it is the same road for three miles. You can make your mind up then.” As an afterthought he added, “If you decide to go on to Guantanamo, you will need to let me out at the Junction in the hills. I cannot go into the American area.”

Kelly nodded and gunned the vehicle in the direction indicated. They drove the three miles in silence, then as they approached the junction the car coughed slightly then picked up again. Kelly recognised the symptom and looked down at the fuel gauge.

Empty.

The morons hadn’t even the sense to keep the car topped up.

“Right!” he said. “We are going to visit the comrades after all. Which way, Francisco?”

Eagerly the student guided him towards the sierra. As he turned onto the small road that led up into the mountain region, he spotted a car some half a mile behind them. He watched as best he could as it came in and out of view, sometimes obscured by the contours of the land. When it turned up the same road they had a few minutes previously, he knew they were being tailed.

He warned the others and added: “I need to let you out as soon as possible. I’ll try to shake them off.”

Negrin pointed. “Just around the next bend there is a pass leading up to the camp. We will be hidden as we climb. You should dump the car and double back to the pass. We will wait for you at the top.”

Kelly nodded but corrected him. “Don’t wait for me, I’ll find you.” He stopped at the foot of the pass when directed to do so, allowed his two passengers to alight, and gave each of them one of the spare revolvers. He pulled away and waved as Peregrine called ‘Good Luck!’ after him,