"Both of us will be going to Inverness for the night. You are well known at Kingsmills Hotel, aren't you?"

"You people know more about me than I do myself. Yes, they know me there."

"We thought so. A room has been booked for you for the night. By morning everything else will have been arranged."

"You can't tell me yet what is being planned?"

"I don't know myselL This whole thing has been rush and extemporize and pulled together at the last minute. But we do have a solid base in the Highlands, ex-prisoners for the most part who are glad to help escapers. They know by experience what it is like inside."

They stepped into a doorway so she could give him the money. He told her what would be needed and she nodded her head and repeated the list word-perfect.

When they met again he had his purchases in a backpack, but the skis and everthing else she had bought had been sent ahead to the station, to be put into his compartment. They reached the station a half an hour before the train was to leave and Jan made a detailed search of the compartment, as detailed as he could with-out instruments, for any concealed bugs.

"Nothing that I can find," he said.

"To our knowledge these compartments are rarely bugged, unless for a specific a.s.signment. It is different in second cla.s.s where bugging and computer monitoring are routine."

Sara had taken off her coat and sat by the window as the train started, looking out as the buildings gave way to countryside. Her green suit appeared to be soft leather, trimmed with fur that matched her fur hat.

She turned and caught his eyes on her.

"I was admiring," he said. "You look very attractive in that getup."

"Protective coloration, a beautiful woman of means. But thank you in any case. Though I believe in complete equality of the s.e.xes it does not offend me, as it does some, to be admired for something other than my brain."

"How could it offend?" Jan was still stopped by some of the things she said. "But don't tell me-not just now. I'm going to open the bar and give you a drink of something strong, and myself one as well, then ring for some sandwiches with meat in them." He felt a flash of guilt which he tried to ignore. "Venison, they do it very well on this train. And perhaps some smoked salmon first. And with it-yes, here it is-Glen Morangie, the finest of the straight malt whiskies. Do you know it?"

"I have never even heard of it."

"Lucky girl, to roll in warm luxury through the cold Highland wilderness-sipping your first malt. I'll join you.

It was impossible not to enjoy the trip, despite the danger it represented. This danger was in the past-and the future. For the brief hours they were on the train the world was held in suspension. Outside the window the sun shone brilliantly on a white landscape of mountains and forest, the occasional flatness of a frozen loch. No smoke rose from the chimneys of the crofters' cottages, even the most remote of them was heated by electricity, but other than this the scene had been unchanged for millennia. There were sheep in protected fields, and a herd of deer bounding away from the swift approach of the electric train.

"I didn't know it could be so beautiful," Sara said. "I've never been this far north before. But it seems so sterile and barren as well."

"It's really the opposite. Come in the summer and you'll find it bursting with life."

"Perhaps. Could I have a little more of that fascinat-ing whiskey? It has my head spinning!"

"Keep it spinning. You'll sober up quickly enough in Inverness."

"I'm sure of that. You'll go directly to the hotel and wait for instructions. What about all this ski equipment?"

"I'll take half of it with me, check the rest in here at the left luggage."

"That sounds right." Sara sipped the malt whiskey and wrinkled her nose. "So strong. I'm still not sure I like it. Inverness is on the edge of the security area, you know. All hotel records are entered at.i.tomatically into the police files."

"I didn't know. But I've stayed often enough at the Kingsmills so it won't appear out of the ordinary."

"No. You are fine, the perfect cover. But I don't dare appear on any records. And I don't think I'll be able to catch the last train back tonight. I'll have to stay in your room, if that's all right with you?"

'Absolutely delighted."

When she said this Jan experienced a delightful warming experience somewhere in the middle of his body. He rcmembered her b.r.e.a.s.t.s revealed so quickly in the cafe' in London. He smiled unconsciously at the thought-and found her smiling back.

"You're terrible," she said, 'just like all the other men." But there was more humor than anger in her words. "Instead of thinking about the dangerous business ahead I suppose that your hormone-drenched brain is thinking only of seducing me?"

"Well, not only that..."

They laughed together and Sara reached out and took his hand. "What you men never seem to under-stand," she said, "is that women can enjoy love and s.e.x just as much as you can. Is it unladylike to admit that I have been thinking about you since that first disastrous night in the submarine?"

"Unladylike or not, I think it's wonderful."

"Very good," she said, all business again. 'After you check in, go out for a walk, get some fresh air, or go drink in a pub. You'll pa.s.s me on the street and just tell me yotir room number without stopping. Then go to your room right after dinner. I don't want to hang about the streets too much after dark and I'll join you as soon as I find out what the plans are to be for tomorrow. Agreed?"

'Agreed."

Sara left the train before he did, vanishing in the crowd. Jan waved a porter over and had him bring the skiing gear to left luggage. It was a short walk to the hotel with his almost-empty pack on his back.

Packs were more in use than suitcases in the Highlands at this time of year and it elicited no notice, even when he checked into the hotel.

"Welcome back, Engineer Kulozik, always a pleasure to see you. We are short on rooms so we can't give you your usual one. But there is a fine one on the third floor, if you don't mind."

"No problem," Jan said, taking the key. "Would you have the pack put in the room? I want to go out before the shops close."

"Our pleasure."

Everything went as planned. Sara nodded when she heard the room number and continued past him without stopping. He had an early meal in the grill and was in his room by seven. In the bookcase he found a John Buchan novel, almost required reading here, and he sat down with that and a weak whiskey and water. Without his realizing it the lost night's sleep caught up with him and the next thing he knew he was starting awake at the light tapping on the door. Sara slipped in quickly.

"Everything has been arranged," she said. "You will take the local train tomorrow to a station named Forsinard." She consulted a sc.r.a.p of paper. "This is in the Achentoul Forest. Do you know it?"

"I know of it. And I have all the maps.

"Good. Emerge from the train with the other skiers, but look for a local inan, very husky, with a black eyepatch. He is your contact. Follow him and he will take it from there."

"What will you do?"

"I'll be on the seyen o'clock train south in the morn-ing. There is nothing more I can do here."

"Oh, no!"

She smiled, with a warmth he had not seen before. "Turn off the lights and open the curtains. There is a beautiful moon tonight."

He did, and it drenched the white landscape with an even paler light. Shadows, darkness, 'and snow.

Jan turned at a sound and the moonlight fell on her body as well. The firm, round b.r.e.a.s.t.s he had glimpsed so briefly, her taut stomach, full hips, long thighs. Sara held her arms out and he gathered her to him.

Twelve.

"We're not going to get much sleep this way," he said, tracing the contour of her arable breast with his finger, her outline still clearly visible in the moonlight from the window.

"I don't need much. And you'll have plenty of time for it after I leave. Your train's not until noon. Did I thank you yet for what you are doing to help rescue Un?"

"Not in so many words-but there are other ways. Who is Un that he is so important?"

"He is not important, not in himself anyway. It is what will happen if Security discovers who they have.

His cover is an Italian seaman, and it is a good cover. But eventually they will discover that it is false.

Then the interrogation will begin in earnest and there is no way to stop them from finding out he is an Israeli."

"Is that bad?"

"It would be disaster. Our cpuntry's international policy is one of strictly no contact, none whatsoever except through official channels. Some of us in external security don't see it the same way. We have to know what is hap p ening in the outside world to protect our own nation. And once we discovered what life is like here it was hard to remain neutral. So, despite all orders to not get in-volved, despite the logical reasoning that any involvement is a threat to our homeland-we are involved. It is impossi-ble just to stand by and do nothing."

"I've been standing by, doing nothing all of my life."

"You didn't know," Sara said, puttingher finger to his lips to silence him, moving the warm length of her body against his. 'And you are doing something now."

"Oh yes, I certainly am!" he whispered, gathering her in his arms. He silenced her laughter with his lips.

Jan was awake later when she dressed and left, but there was nothing for either of them to say. He did not think he would be able to sleep after that, but he did. It was full daylight when he awoke and he was ravenous. The breakfast did justice to the Highland cuisine, the smoked kipper was a thing of joy, and he was feeling remarkably fit, whistling while he dressed. Since arriving in Scotland it had been more like a holiday than a hurried attempt to save a man's life. Perhaps save an entire country. These were just words, the reality had not sunk in yet.

Nor did the trip on the clanking train do anything to change the way he felt. There were a few locals aboard, but the majority of the pa.s.sengers seemed to be skiers on holiday, filling the coaches with bright clothes and laugh-ter, bottles pa.s.sing from hand to hand. One thing, he certainly would not be noticed in this crowd. With people getting off and on at each station there would be no trace of where he had actually alighted.

By midafternoon the sky had darkened and a thin snow had begun to fall. This dampened feelings somewhat and, when he lifted the packs and skis down from the guard's van in Forsinard, the bite of the wind drove the last traces of merriment from him. This desperate busi-ness was about to begin.

His contact was easy enough to spot, a dark blob among the colourful anoraks and salopettes. Jan dropped his burden into the.snow and knelt to fumble with the lace on his boot. When he arose again he went back in the direction of the station, following the stocky form of his contact: Along the road, then off onto a beaten down path through the trees. The man was waiting in a clearing well hidden from sight of the road.

"What do I call you?" he said when Jan came up.

"Bill."

"Well, Bill, I'm Brackley, and that's no code name and I don't care who knows it. I've done my time and left an eye behind to prove it." He pointed to the black patch and Jan noticed the puckered scar that crossed his cheek and went under the patch, continuing up over his forehead and vanishing under the wool cap pulled low on his head. "They've been trying to do old Brackley for years but they haven't done me so far. You cold?"

"Not very."

"Good. Make no difference if you were. Be dark before the track comes. What do you know about the work camps?"

"Little or nothing. Other than the fact that they exist."

Brackley snorted and nodded at the answer, then extracted a plug of tobacco from his pocket and bit off a corner. "That's the way they want it," he said indistinctly around the large cud he was chewing into shape. "What happens, people get out of line, they get sent up here, maybe a ten-year sentence cutting trees. Good for the health unless you cross the screws, then you get this," he jerked his thumb at the eyepatch again, "or worse. Dead too, they don't care. Then when you serve your time you find out that you got to serve the same ter~ again work-ing in the Highlands, no going back to the joys of the Smoke.

And there ain't no work here. Except grazing sheep. You people, begging your pardon, your honor, likes their little bit of meat, don't they'. Poor b.u.g.g.e.rs up here freezing their a.r.s.es off to see you get it. So what with ten years inside and ten years with the sheep, most don't get back south, and them what do. they keep their noses clean so they can stay south. It's i good system they got, works fine." He spat a great brown gob into the white snow.

"What about escapes?" Jan asked, stamping his feet as the cold began to seep through.

"Easy enough to get out. Couple of strands of barbed wire. But then what? Wilderness on all sides, a few roads well watched, trains watched as well. Getting out's no problem, staying out is the one that counts. That's where Brackley and his boys come in. All of us done our time, now we're out but can't leave the Highlands. So while we're here we don't make trouble, but anyone goes through the fence and finds us, why we make trouble for the screws. Get them out of here. South. Like an under-ground railway. Turn them over to your people. Now you want one out in particular, right out of a security cell.

Not easy.

"I don't know the details."

"I do. First time you've given us guns. This could stop other things working around here for a long time.

Once we have this man out we go back to our crofts and lay low for a long time. Raise our heads we get 'em cut off. This man better be important."

"He is."

"That's the way I hear it. So let's look at the map before it gets too dark. Here's where we are now." He pointed out the spot with a thick, scarred thumb. "We start cross country after dark to about here, doesn't show on the map but that's their detector screen. Go in on foot after that and they can't tell us from elk or deer. Not that they care. Only start looking after someone breaks out. No one up until now has been fool enough to want to break in. We use snowshoes. We want to use these fancy skis of yours?"

"Yes, they're the best for me.

"Good enough. We'll bring the man out in a ski basket so we can make time. Back to the track, back to the road, run the track into a lake, and we go home and no one the wiser."

'Aren't you forgetting something?"

"Never!" He slapped Jan on the back, a friendly blow that sent him staggering. "Right along here there are a number of paths where the skiers cross the road. Even if it's not snowing they'll never be able to follow your track~ they go every which way from here. You and your friend break west then and you'll have at least eight, ten hours of darkness to stay ahead of anyone looking for you. Not that they will, probably won't think of it. They'll look for someone going to ground, or going north or south by train or road. This is a new way out and a smart one too. You'll get through, though there will be mobile patrols around when you get over near Loch Naver."

"We'll look out for them."

"That's the spirit:' Brackley squinted up at the darkening sky, then took up the second pack and pair of skies. "Time to go.

Jan was thoroughly chilled through now, standing in the patch of pine trees by the road, as the dark afternoon thickened into night. Invisible snowflakes melted on his face and he moved stiffly when Brackley pulled him forward at the sight of twin headlights coming slowly along the road. A dark vehicle stopped and a door swung open above them, ready hands pulled them inside.

"Lads, this is Bill," Brackley said, and there was a murmur of greeting from the unseen men. His elbow dug Jan painfully in the ribs, to draw his attention. "This is a snowtrack. He nicked it from the foresters.

Can't do it too often because they get right annoyed and turn the whole county over. They'll be annoyed again in the spring when they find it sunk in the lake. Had to do it this time. For speed."

There was a heater on in the body of the vehicle and Jan thawed out a bit. Brackley produced a torch and held it while Jan took off his boots, ma.s.saging some life back into his icy feet, then put on high socks and the special cross-country shoes. He was still tying the laces when they lurched to a stop.

They seemed to know just what to do without being told, since no orders were issued. The men piled out of the track into waist high snow, quickly strapping their feet into the round bear-paw snowshoes.

The first two men were already away, towing the mountain rescue stretcher on its skis. There was white official lettering stenciled on it, also undoubtedly stolen. Jan strapped on his skis and kicked off quickly after them through the trees, wonder-ing how they could find their way in the snow-filled darkness.

"Hold it," Brackley said, stopping so suddenly that Jan almost ran into him. "This is as far as you go.

Take this and wait here." He pressed the bulk of an FM trans-ceiver into Jan's hands. 'If anyone comes by and sees the cut wire, don't let them see you. Get back into the trees. Press this b.u.t.ton and tell us on the radio so we can come back a different way. Then get further back into the woods and we'll use the radio to find you."

There were some sharp metallic clicks as the barbed wire strands were cut, then silence. Jan was alone.

Very much alone. The snow had stopped but the night was still dark, the moon concealed by thick cloud. The posts and barbed wire vanished away into the dark-ness on both sides; their presence was marked by the cleared strip of land. Jan slid away to the shelter of the trees, moving back and forth there to keep warm, checking the glowing digits on his watch. A half an hour and still nothing. He wondered how far they had to go, how long it would all take.