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‘Too bad,’ said Bond drily.
‘Yes, my dear Bond, it was indeed too bad.’ Drax chose to ignore the irony. ‘But for me it was the high-spot of the whole war. Skorzeny turned all his saboteurs and terrorists into SS Jagdverbänd for use behind the enemy lines. Each Jagdverbänd was divided into Streifkorps and then into Kommandos, each carrying the names of its commanding officer. With the rank of Oberleutnant,’ Drax swelled visibly, ‘at the head of Kommando “Drache” I went right through the American lines with the famous 150 Panzer Brigade in the Arde
Bond licked his lips as he remembered the crack Krebs’s head had made against the dressing-table. Had he kicked him as hard as he possibly could? Yes, his memory reassured him, with every ounce of strength he could put into his shoe.
‘We stayed in those woods for six months,’ continued Drax proudly, ‘and all the time we reported back to the Fatherland by radio. The location vans never spotted us. Then one day disaster came.’ Drax shook his head at the memory. ‘There was a big farmhouse a mile away from our hideout in the forest. A lot of Nissen huts had been built round it and it was used as a rear headquarters for some sort of liaison group, English and Americans. A hopeless place. No discipline, no security, and full of hangers-on and shirkers from all over the place. We had kept an eye on it for some time and one day I decided to blow it up. It was a simple plan. In the evening, two of my men, one in American uniform and one in British, were to drive up in a captured scout car containing two tons of explosive. There was a car park – no sentries of course – near the mess hall and they were to run the car in as close to the mess hall as possible, time the fuse for the seven o’clock di
Drax saw the fury in Bond’s eyes and held up his hand. ‘Not very sporting? My dear chap, the man was already dead. However, to continue. I went on my way and then what should happen? One of our own planes coming back from a reco
Drax paused and took out another cigar and lit it. There was silence in the room save for the soft diminished roar of the blowtorch. Its threatening voice was quieter. Pressure ru
He turned his head and looked at Gala. For the first time he saw the ugly bruise behind her left ear. He gave her a smile of encouragement and she smiled wryly back.
Drax spoke through the cigar smoke: ‘There is not much more to tell,’ he said. ‘During the year that I was being pushed from one hospital to the next I made my plans down to the smallest detail. They consisted quite simply of revenge on England for what she had done to me and to my country. It gradually became an obsession. I admit it. Every day during the year of the rape and destruction of my country, my hatred and scorn for the English grew more bitter.’ The veins on Drax’s face started to swell and suddenly he pounded on the desk and shouted across at them, looking with bulging eyes from one to the other. ‘I loathe and despise you all. You swine! Useless, idle, decadent fools, hiding behind your bloody white cliffs while other people fight your battles. Too weak to defend your colonies, toadying to America with your hats in your hands. Stinking snobs who’ll do anything for money. Hah!’ he was triumphant, ‘I knew that all I needed was money and the façade of a gentleman. Gentleman! Pfui Teufel! To me a gentleman is just someone I can take advantage of. Those bloody fools in Blades for instance. Moneyed oafs. For months I took thousands of pounds off them, swindled them right under their noses until you came along and upset the apple-cart.’
Drax’s eyes narrowed. ‘What put you on to the cigarette-case?’ he asked sharply.
Bond shrugged his shoulders. ‘My eyes,’ he said indifferently.
‘Ah well,’ said Drax, ‘perhaps I was a bit careless that night. But where was I? Ah yes, in hospital. And the good doctors were so anxious to help me find out who I really was.’ He let out a roar of laughter. ‘It was easy. So easy.’ His eyes became cu