The Summer of 66 by Dan Wheatcroft - HTML preview

PLEASE NOTE: This is an HTML preview only and some elements such as links or page numbers may be incorrect.
Download the book in PDF, ePub, Kindle for a complete version.

 

Chapter 21

25th July

They woke him at three-thirty with a cup of tea and a cheese sandwich, escorted him to the toilet and watched him pee. Time to go.

The street was dark and empty. There was a chill in the air that wasn't helped by the fine drizzle. The two Farralland men did a sweep and clean of the building as Sandy and Gallagher bundled Radler into the car. Escorted by a fresh crew, they began their two-hour journey to the almost deserted former prisoner of war camp and decaying barracks in a dank wood that perched awkwardly on the side of a small hill.

Turning off the tarmac road, they took the stone track into the wood and pulled up in front of an old chain-link gate. A uniformed soldier in a poncho, guard dog by his side, passively looked on as a civilian pulled the wobbling gate open, checked Gally's paperwork then directed him to pull up in front of the third building they came to on the left.

They were met and waved in by two men in civilian clothes. Gally saw a nod of recognition pass between one of them and the Farralland chap nearest him. Intelligence Corps, probably met each other during escape and evasion training on opposite sides of a dimly lit table in a garlic-infused room, he mused.

After a few minor formalities, signatures given on several bits of paper, Radler's new 'friends' began to lead him away. He turned and held his hand out to Gallagher then Sandy.

"Thank you. It has been an interesting experience. Perhaps, we will meet again, though at this moment I'm not so sure."

Gally put a hand on Radler's shoulder with a reassuring smile. "You take care, Harald."

Back in London, he dropped Sandy off at his car and went home to clean up and get changed. Done, he returned to the office.

The Old Man greeted him. "Where've you been? Sandy's been back here at least ten minutes."

"Shit, shave and shower, Sir. Sandy's got less to wash than I have."

"Well, I want your report on my desk in thirty minutes."

Gally went to walk away but then didn't. "Why did we have to go, Sir? The Radler job? Box could have done it. Is there something I might be allowed to know?"

The Old Man scowled at him then relaxed. "There's a history between us, Gallagher. I just needed to assert our interest in him. Now, that report, get it done."

He found Reg watching an electric toaster in the main office. "Hello, Gally. Fancy some toast?"

Taking his coat off, he replied, "I wouldn't say no. I'm starving."

Sandy: "It's lovely with a bit of butter and jam." He waved a slice from his plate.

Gally: "I'm not talking to you anymore, Ginge. You shower too quick."

Sandy: "Maybe you just spend too long admiring yourself in the mirror."

Gally took his last slice. "Sandy needs more toast, Reg." He sat down, hit the dachshund on the head with a pen and pulled some forms from his drawer. "Blimey, this is good," he mumbled as he chewed. "Can I have another as well, Reg? Did we win the pools or something?"

Studiously buttering two toasts and spreading them with jam, Reg replied, "A niece of mine wondered if I could use it. She's bought a new one. It’s what youngsters do these days”