Terminal Read Online Free PDF Page B

windscreen wipers maintaining two fan-shapes of clear glass in the gently falling snow.
    A returning crunch of boots breaking the hard snow. At the window Jan, his high cheekbones burnished by the wind, reappeared. The rifle still looped on one shoulder, the crate expertly balanced on the other. His expression was blank as he bent down and spoke.
    `Until next time...'
    `The same arrangement,' replied Seidler and smiled, stubbing out his cigarette in the ash-tray. A small gesture to indicate that this transaction was completed.
    Jan vanished inside the but as Seidler wound up the window — God he was frozen stiff. With the feeble heater he'd be lucky to thaw out by the time they reached Vienna. The barrier pole remained obstinately lowered across their path. Franz reached for the brake and Seidler stopped him.
    `For Christ's sake, wait! No sign of impatience...'
    `It's not going as it usually does. We'd be away by now. I can feel it — something's wrong...'
    `Shut up! Didn't you see Jan yawn? They're half-asleep at this hour. They've been on duty all night. Nothing ever happens at this Godforsaken spot. They're bored stiff. They've slipped into a state of permanent inertia...'
    Seidler realized he was talking too much. He began to wonder whether he was trying to convince himself. He stared hypnotized by the horizontal pole. It began to,wobble. Christ! The tension was beginning to get to him.
    The pole wasn't wobbling. It was ascending. Franz released the brake. The Renault slid forward. They were across! They paused briefly again while an Austrian official glanced without interest at Seidler's German passport, and then they were driving through the streets of the small town of Gmund.

    `You realize you were photographed back at the frontier post?' Franz remarked as he accelerated along the highway beyond Gmund towards distant Vienna.
    `What the hell are you talking about?'
    `You were photographed by a man in civilian clothes. Didn't you see the flash-bulb go off? He had a funny camera with a big lens...'
    `A civilian?' Seidler was startled. 'Are you sure? Someone with a torch came out of the guard but...'
    `No torch. A flash-bulb. I watched him out of the corner of my eye. You were looking straight ahead.'
    Seidler, a man in his late forties with a thatch of dark brown hair, slimly built, a bony face, a long, inquisitive nose and wary eyes, thought about it. It was the reference to a civilian which worried him Always before there had been no one there except uniformed guards. Yes, this was definitely the last run. He had just relaxed with this comforting thought when Franz said something else which disturbed him.
    `I'm not helping you again,' the old man rasped.
    Suits me to the ground, Seidler thought, and then glanced to his left sharply. Franz was staring straight ahead but there was a smug, conniving look in his expression. Seidler knew that look: Franz was congratulating himself on some trick he was going to pull.
    `I'm sorry to hear that,' Seidler replied.
    `That business back at the frontier post,' Franz went on. 'I felt certain they'd changed the guard. It's only a matter of time before they do change the guard. Jan won't be there to collect his Schnapps and wave you through. They'll search the car...'
    He was repeating himself, talking too much, over-emphasizing the reasons for his decision. That plus the satisfied smirk. Seidler's devious and shrewd mind began searching for the real reason. His right hand thrust deep inside his coat pocket for warmth felt the flick knife he always carried in the special compartment he had had sewn into the pocket.
    Money! Franz worshipped the stuff. But from what source could he obtain more money than the generous amount Seidler had always paid? The road to Vienna passes through some of the loneliest and bleakest countryside west of Siberia. Flat as a billiard table — a monotonous snow-covered billiard table — the bare fields stretched away on both sides, treeless.
    It was still