Captain Heidelstrauss hung up from talking to Major Lindisl and looked at the clock. Midnight! Didn’t Lindisl ever sleep? Yes, of course he did, Heidelstrauss mentally corrected himself. He did, but he didn’t expect his underlings to. Now he was expected to send out a patrol to rendezvous with the major in the middle of the desert, and if connections were missed he knew whose head would roll. He only hoped it would be figuratively and not literally. And what was this about hunting some American Fox? Heidelstrauss mentally shrugged and got on with the problem.
He placed a call to the barracks and talked to the officer on duty. “Lieutenant, Major Lindisl wants a squad in a halftrack to meet him out in the desert. Have the men take three days rations and plenty of extra fuel.”
The mere mention of Major Lindisl was enough to silence any protestations the lieutenant may have thought of making. Heidelstrauss shrewdly used some psychology, “Major Lindisl is tracking down some American calling himself The Fox.”
“What?” the lieutenant sputtered. “Field Marshal Rommel is The Fox, how dare he take that name! The squad will be ready in ten minutes!”
Heidelstrauss chuckled as he hung up, and then grew serious as he pulled out the map and pondered. Major Lindisl was northwest of Sfax and the fugitives were heading southwest. If the halftrack headed straight west out of Sfax they could meet up with Major Lindisl in a relatively short amount of time.
Meanwhile Lindisl checked his resources. Three Germans were dead and two badly wounded, there remained only himself and his driver and one kubelwagon. Of the Arabs, Abu and one other were unhurt. Ali and two Arabs were wounded but still able to continue, and one was able to ride but not fight. Lindisl gave his orders to Abu in French, “Your wounded man will take my two wounded men back to Sfax on camels. We will continue on and rendezvous with the halftrack. We will follow them and catch them. Let’s go!”
Abu passed on his orders to Ali. The two brothers exchanged knowing looks before Abu got in the kubelwagon. Ali gave his orders to his men; they mounted up and followed the vehicle. After everyone else had left, the remaining Arab calmly slit the throats of the two Germans, stripped all the bodies, and melted into the darkness with the three camels.
When Lindisl reached the road to Faid, he stopped and called Captain Heidelstrauss. “Where is the halftrack?” he commanded.
“They have just left town,” he was informed and was given the frequency and call sign of it. He then conferred with Ali and Abu, “How far are we from Sfax?”
They looked at each other and shrugged, “About ten kilometers, effendi.”
Lindisl then called up the halftrack. “This is Major Lindisl. How far are you from Sfax?”
“Two or three kilometers, Herr Major.”
Lindisl pondered for a moment. “We are about ten kilometers from Sfax on the Faid road and traveling southwest. Keep traveling west until you are ten kilometers from town. Call when you reach that point.”
“Jawohl, Herr Major.”
Lindisl gave the order to keep on driving southwest, following the tracks. The sergeant in the halftrack called in at the appointed place, and again Lindisl conferred with Abu and Ali. Judging from the description the sergeant gave of his immediate area, they agreed that the halftrack had come far enough west. “Sergeant, turn southwest and catch up as soon as you can,” Lindisl ordered.
“Jawohl, Herr Major,” the sergeant acknowledged.
Time passed, and Lindisl commanded his driver to stop and turn off the engine. As they stood outside the vehicle, they could hear a motor in the distance. Lindisl got back on the radio and vectored the approaching halftrack towards him. In a few moments, the halftrack carrying a squad of German soldiers pulled up beside the kubelwagon and the sergeant jumped out and saluted Major Lindisl, “Reporting as ordered, Herr Major.”
As the two of them were talking, Ali said something to Abu, who hurried over to Lindisl. “Effendi, if the American dogs are circling around to return to their comrades, there is a short cut we can take.”
Lindisl whirled around, “Where is it?”
“Just a little further, effendi.”
“Would the Americans have taken it also?”
Abu shook his head, “Ali says that unless they know about it, probably not. The entrance looks narrow and is easily overlooked.”
“Can the halftrack go through?”
“It is narrow, it is doubtful.”
Lindisl made his decision, “We will try it anyway, lead us to this shortcut.” Abu humbly bowed and conversed with Ali. The vehicles took off with the Arabs on their camels in the lead. Within a couple of miles, the Arabs turned off into a narrow defile. The halftrack made it through, but did scrape both sides. As they slowly made their way through the twisting defile, rising in altitude as they went, it widened the further they traveled. They reached the top and started descending down the other side. Lindisl was leaning forward in his seat, anticipating the victory that was almost in his grasp. When they debouched on the other side of the heights, Lindisl asked Abu, “How much distance did that save us?”
“About thirty kilometers, effendi.”
“Good! We must be close behind them now.”
They continued westward for about another hour, and when red streaks were heralding the dawn they reached a height. One of the Arabs shouted and threw out his hand, pointing to the far side of a level area. They could see the dark blot of a vehicle coming close to a defile on the other side.
“I have them!” Lindisl gloated. He reached for the radio to call in a plane.