High Citadel / Landslide. Desmond Bagley
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There was a dead silence, then Miss Ponsky said, ‘I suppose the main problem is to stop them repairing the bridge. Well, couldn’t we do something at this end – cut the ropes or something?’
‘That’s good in principle,’ said Forester. ‘Any objections to it?’ He glanced at O’Hara, knowing what he would say.
O’Hara looked at Forester sourly; it seemed as though he was being cast as the cold-water expert and he did not fancy the role. He said deliberately, ‘The approaches to the bridge from this side are wide open; there’s no cover for at least a hundred yards – you saw what happened to Benedetta and me this morning. Anyone who tried to get to the bridge along the road would be cut down before he’d got halfway. It’s point blank range, you know – they don’t have to be crack shots.’ He paused. ‘Now I know it’s the only way we can get at the bridge, but it seems impossible to me.’
‘What about a night attack?’ asked Willis.
‘That sounds good,’ said Forester.
O’Hara hated to do it, but he spoke up. ‘I don’t want to sound pessimistic, but I don’t think those chaps over there are entirely stupid. They’ve got two trucks and four jeeps, maybe more, and those vehicles have at least two headlights apiece. They’ll keep the bridge well lit during the dark hours.’
There was silence again.
Armstrong cleared his throat. ‘Willis and I have been doing a little thinking and maybe we have something that will help. Again I find myself in the position of being something of an expert. You know that my work is the study of medieval history, but it so happens that I’m a specialist, and my speciality is medieval warfare. The position as I see it is that we are in a castle with a moat and a drawbridge. The drawbridge is fortuitously pulled up, but our enemies are trying to rectify that state of affairs. Our job is to stop them.’
‘With what?’ asked O’Hara. ‘A push of a pike?’
‘I wouldn’t despise medieval weapons too much, O’Hara,’ said Armstrong mildly. ‘I admit that the people of those days weren’t as adept in the art of slaughter as we are, but still, they managed to kill each other off at a satisfactory rate. Now, Rohde’s pistol is highly inaccurate at the range he is forced to use. What we want is a more efficient missile weapon than Rohde’s pistol.’
‘So we all make like Robin Hood,’ said Peabody derisively. ‘With the jolly old longbow, what? For Christ’s sake, Professor!’
‘Oh, no,’ said Armstrong. ‘A longbow is very chancy in the hands of a novice. It takes five years at least to train a good bowman.’
‘I can use the bow,’ said Miss Ponsky unexpectedly. Everyone looked at her and she coloured. ‘I’m president of the South Bridge Ladies’ Greenwood Club. Last year I won our own little championship in the Hereford Round.’
‘That’s interesting,’ said Armstrong.
O’Hara said, ‘Can you use a longbow lying down, Miss Ponsky?’
‘It would be difficult,’ she said. ‘Perhaps impossible.’
O’Hara jerked his head at the gorge. ‘You stand up there with a longbow and you’ll get filled full of holes.’
She bridled. ‘I think you’d do better helping than pouring cold water on all our ideas, Mr O’Hara.’
‘I’ve got to do it,’ said O’Hara evenly. ‘I don’t want anyone killed uselessly.’
‘For God’s sake,’ exclaimed Willis. ‘How did a longbow come into this? That’s out – we can’t make one; we haven’t the material. Now, will you listen to Armstrong; he has a point to make.’ His voice was unexpectedly firm.
The flat crack of Rohde’s pistol echoed on the afternoon air and there was the answering fire of shots from the other side of the gorge. Peabody ducked and O’Hara looked at his watch. It had been an hour and twenty minutes – and they had nine bullets left.
Forester said, ‘That’s one good thing – we’re safe here. Their rifles won’t shoot round corners. Make your point, Doctor Armstrong.’
‘I was thinking of something more on the lines of a prodd or crossbow,’ said Armstrong. ‘Anyone who can use a rifle can use a crossbow and it has an effective range of over a hundred yards.’ He smiled at O’Hara. ‘You can shoot it lying down, too.’
O’Hara’s mind jumped at it. They could cover the bridge and also the road on the other side where it turned north and followed the edge of the gorge and where the enemy trucks were. He said, ‘Does it have any penetrative power?’
‘A bolt will go through mail if it hits squarely,’ said Armstrong.
‘What about a petrol tank?’
‘Oh, it would penetrate a petrol tank quite easily.’
‘Now, take it easy,’ said Forester. ‘How in hell can we make a crossbow?’
‘You must understand that I’m merely a theoretician where this is concerned,’ explained Armstrong. ‘I’m no mechanic or engineer. But I described what I want to Willis and he thinks we can make it.’
‘Armstrong and I were rooting round up at the camp,’ said Willis. ‘One of the huts had been a workshop and there was a lot of junk lying about – you know, the usual bits and pieces that you find in a metal-working shop. I reckon they didn’t think it worthwhile carting the stuff away when they abandoned the place. There are some flat springs and odd bits of metal rod; and there’s some of that concrete reinforcing steel that we can cut up to make arrows.’
‘Bolts,’ Armstrong corrected mildly. ‘Or quarrels, if you prefer. I thought first of making a prodd, you know; that’s a type of crossbow which fires bullets, but Willis has convinced me that we can manufacture bolts more easily.’
‘What about tools?’ asked O’Hara. ‘Have you anything that will cut metal?’
‘There are some old hacksaw blades,’ Willis said. ‘And I saw a couple of worn-out files. And there’s a hand-powered grindstone that looks as though it came out of the Ark. I’ll make out; I’m good with my hands and I can adapt Armstrong’s designs with the material available.’
O’Hara looked at Forester, who said slowly, ‘A weapon accurate to a hundred yards built out of junk seems too good to be true. Are you certain about this, Doctor Armstrong?’
‘Oh, yes,’ said Armstrong cheerfully. ‘The crossbow has killed thousands of men in its time – I see no reason why it shouldn’t kill a few more. And Willis seems to think he can make it.’ He smiled. ‘I’ve drawn the blueprints there.’ He pointed to a few lines scratched in the dust.
‘If we’re going to do this, we’d better do it quickly,’ said O’Hara.
‘Right.’ Forester looked up at the sun. ‘You’ve got time to make it up to the camp by nightfall. It’s uphill, but you’ll be travelling light. You go too, Peabody; Willis can use another pair of hands.’
Peabody nodded quickly. He had no taste for staying too near the bridge.
‘One moment,’ said Aguillar, speaking for the first time. ‘The bridge is made of rope and wood – very combustible materials. Have you considered the use of fire? Señor O’Hara gave me the idea when he spoke of petrol tanks.’
‘Um,’ said O’Hara. ‘But how to get the fire to the bridge?’
‘Everyone think of that,’ said Forester. ‘Now let’s get things moving.’
Armstrong, Willis and Peabody left immediately on the long trudge up to the camp. Forester said, ‘I didn’t know what to make of Willis – he’s not very forthcoming – but I’ve got him tagged now. He’s the