Heard of it? Dave wished he had a penny for every time he had heard the name, Captain Karl von Stutgardt, mentioned! He’d be a very rich man. Von Stutgardt was a name as famous, or as infamous, as that of Himmler. From Norway to Libya, and from Dublin to Bucharest, Karl von Stutgardt had reaped human lives as a farmer might reap wheat, by the thousands upon thousands. So this was the ruthless Nazi agent who could well be Satan’s roommate? Red rage smouldered in Dawson as he eyed the man. And perhaps some of that rage showed in his face, for von Stutgardt’s eyes suddenly narrowed slightly, and they took on a vicious gleam.
“If you wish, Captain Dawson,” he said softly, and pointed the Luger straight at the Yank ace’s heart. “Though you may not realize it, you, and your swine English friend, have given me much trouble in the past. It is my personal desire to make you suffer a little before I remove you from this war forever. However, if you wish to be foolish, then you will die quickly.”
The words sounded like chunks of ice clicking against each other. Dave forced a grin to his lips and held the man with his eyes.
“Go ahead,” he said evenly. “Pull the trigger. We both know, now, that it isn’t going to be very long for you, von Stutgardt.”
The Nazi started slightly, and he seemed to shoot a fearful glance out to sea. But he had control of himself almost instantly. He shrugged, grinned, and gestured again with the Luger.
“Talk is cheap,” he sneered. “And you came here to see things, didn’t you? Then let us not waste any more time. Walk ahead of me to that path leading away from the beach.”
Von Stutgardt pointed toward a beaten path that led off through a break in the heavy undergrowth that lined the beach. As the two air aces started walking toward it they saw three figures come out of the undergrowth at the far end of the beach and trot over toward the faked airplane crash. In a matter of seconds they had it dismantled, and were carrying the parts away out of sight.
“Just a couple of babes in arms, we are, Freddy!” Dave murmured bitterly. “We took it hook, line, and sinker. I could sure kick myself plenty, right now.”
“All my fault, Dave,” the English youth grunted. “After all, I spotted it first, you know.”
Dave started to speak, but at that exact moment he caught a flash glimpse of von Stutgardt’s face out of the corner of his eye. The Nazi agent was grinning like an ape, and obviously tickled silly over the mental discomfort of his prisoners. Dave grinned also, but inwardly.