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Matthias spoke into his radio. “Günter, it’s Matthias. Go do your stuff now, over.”
Günter responded and then, interior light disabled, slipped himself and his dog from the Audi that was crammed into the bushes on the blind side of the field.
Matthias put a hand on Gally’s shoulder, edging him to the left as the electricians stumbled past in a crouching run, the isolator frame between them. Next, it was the Englishman and the American, carrying the planks like seasoned stretcher-bearers, Matthias bringing up the rear. As they reached the large fir tree, they could hear a dog barking loudly nearby and see flashes from a torch being waved around on the path that ran alongside the open field. Shouts in German, “Rolf! Rolf! Hier! Fuss! Rolf!! Komm!!!” The Hungarian in the tower shouted back with what German he could muster. “Es ist in ordnung! Komm und hol ihn.” (It’s ok, come and get him).
The electricians swiftly attached the isolator and operated the switches from a wired-in remote. One of them nodded to Matthias then began snipping the fence within the frame.
When the sound of the truck had receded into the distance, Radler dragged himself rapidly along the last 100 metres of ditch emerging muddied and wet at the barb-wired culvert. Crawling past it up the grassy incline, he popped his head up to road level. He could just make out the group at the wire. He tried to stand up but stumbled. He tried again, this time managing to scramble to his feet. Almost bent double, he staggered across the road to tumble down the slope towards the little stream.
Everybody on the other side froze. No explosion. Gally hissed, “For fuck’s sake Harald, just stay exactly where you are!”
The Austrians were making progress with the barbed wire and slid the planks across; Radler dug them into the bank as much as he could with his bare hands whilst fighting to get his breath back. In the distance, the sound of a helicopter as it circled then descended to the hard standing alongside the southern border crossing.
Günter’s ability to speak Hungarian had much impressed the border man in the tower and they’d progressed from how he’d learned it from his grandmother to who supported which football team. The Austrian took out a transistor radio, telling the guard he normally listened to the matches on it but needed some earpieces as it could be quite loud which he demonstrated by turning it on but then dropped it on the ground. Rolf, the dog, was on it in a flash and playfully dashed up and down with it in his mouth, music blaring out as his owner seemingly tried to get him under control. The tower guard laughed and shouted encouragement but to whom no one could be sure.
Radler delved into his coat pockets for his insulated wire and cable cutter mistakenly dragging his torch out at the same time, sending it tumbling into the stream just below him. For a second or two everyone froze once more then went back to work.
One hand holding the tool, the other probed deep in the opposite pocket, searching for the pistol that was no longer there; he’d lost it whilst crawling along the drainage ditch. He began to agitatedly cut the wire on his side of the planks.
Back towards the village, they could see approaching headlights illuminating the rooftops and the tower of the village’s little church. The red light on the field telephone in the watch post repeatedly flashed eventually catching the Hungarian guard’s attention. Concisely and economically answered, phone down, he shouted across to the now slightly more distant Austrian and his dog that they should go, people were coming and if they found out they’d been talking together he would be in big trouble. With an understanding wave, man and dog ambled back to the path, another purposeful action designed to split the guard’s attention from what was behind him. Scanning the countryside with his night vision equipment, he took a quick look back into Austria to see how far they’d got and saw it was far enough for him to be able to deny all knowledge. Back looking across the Hungarian fields, he saw nothing.
Things weren’t going as well at Radler’s end of the barbed wire as all had hoped. Matthias handed over a set of wire cutters, Gally nodded, crawled along the planks, through the isolator frame to begin cutting and bending away the barbs. Still trying to use his own cutter but with hands now too weak, Harald pulled at it from his end. The movement caught the guard’s eye as he panned along the fence. Shouts to stop and halt only served to increase the activity.
Night vision down, he shouldered his weapon, held the vertical handgrip tightly, shouted again at the feverish actions taking place 300 metres away then started firing, his bullets leaving Hungarian home ground, flying across Austrian air space then digging up bits of Hungary as they impacted all-around a now desperate Radler and Gally. “Come through, Harald! You have to come now!” Gallagher shouted, urgency in every syllable.
Main beam headlights lit up the scene as a ‘jeep’ and truck screeched to a halt, occupants spilling out in all directions.
Radler shuffled across the planks but stopped short as bullets from the tower continued to spit up soil around him. “Gally! I’m caught! I’m caught on the wire!”