Gerhard stood still, like a
gamekeeper’s dog; sniffing the wind, ears alert and eyes peering through the
darkness. Nothing, a whiff of manure and the sickly scent of rotting leaves.
Wind rustled through the trees, a dog barked in the distance. The former
soldier stiffened as a branch creaked in the nearby woodland. Silence.
He estimated he was three
miles from the cottage north of Lutterworth. It had
taken him an hour or so, stopping every few hundred yards to check he was not
being followed. The rucksack was heavy. He had padded the transmitter with rags to
avoid rubbing.
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