by Robert Rigby
Max and Julia Bernard were joyfully reunited. Eddie Noury had quickly fetched Julia from her hiding place once the fighting was over and now the couple were sitting on the ground, holding hands and talking softly, the relief on both their faces plain to see.
But Josette, wounded and afraid, had been taken prisoner.
Henri turned a deathly white when Paul and Didier described how she had been dragged off by the German soldier, bundled into the lorry and driven away to the house. Since then Henri had hardly said a word. He was sitting slumped, head in hands, on a tree stump.
Paul and Didier were trying not to show how frantic with fear they both felt; Paul was wracked with guilt at not getting to Josette sooner. “If I hadn’t insisted we go into the house, we’d have reached her before the German,” he said to Didier so that Henri did not overhear. “I should have guessed that Julia was safe when we saw the window was out.”
“How could you have guessed? No, you were right, we had to go in. And anyway, the German would have picked us all off if we’d come hurtling through the forest armed with nothing more than a few shotguns.”
Paul sighed, unconvinced. “We have to get Josette out, somehow. The wound looked bad.”
Didier nodded. “I’m glad Henri didn’t see it. He looks shattered.”
“But we need his orders. We can’t sit here doing nothing.” Paul turned to Henri and called his name.
Lost in his own anguished thoughts, Henri did not reply.
“Henri?” Paul said again, louder this time.
Henri seemed to barely register their presence as he stared up at them, looking stunned.
“What do we do now, Henri?”
“Rescue my daughter,” Henri said in little more than a frightened whisper. “Do whatever you have to, but please rescue my daughter.”
Paul and Didier exchanged a look; it appeared that tactical decisions would be down to them.
Eddie was standing guard. His brother and their cousin, Alain, who was explaining how he had come to turn up during the fighting, had joined him. And from what Paul and Didier could overhear, it seemed as though Alain had latched on to Henri’s incorrect assumption that he had heard the sounds of battle and bravely rushed in to help his cousins.
“I’d have got to you faster if I’d have known for sure,” they heard him boast. “But when I found Victor dead in the back of the car I didn’t know what to do. Then Henri Mazet turned up, and then one of the Germans.” He lowered his voice to make sure Henri didn’t hear. “I’d have taken him out with my pistol, but Henri wouldn’t let me.”
“He’s got a lot more to say than the last time we saw him,” Didier said to Paul.
“Do you believe all that?” Paul asked.
“Not really; I never did trust Alain.”
They walked over to the twins and their cousin.
“What can you tell us?” Paul asked the twins.
“Everything we know,” Eddie said. “We want to make up for what we’ve done until now.”
“Then start at the beginning,” Didier said.
Taking turns, the Noury brothers explained how they had come to be involved in the plot to seize Max Bernard and spirit him away to northern France.
They left out nothing: the Germans’ arrival on the plateau by parachute, the capture of Julia, the killing of their dog, their imprisonment and eventual escape.
“We did it for the money,” Eddie told them, his face flushed with shame, “and we know it was a stupid mistake. We’re sorry, truly sorry. I know that’s no excuse, but it’s the truth. We never intended to be traitors.”
“We didn’t think it through,” Gilbert added. “We’re not good at thinking at the best of times, but Victor convinced us it was an easy way to make big money.”
“But we’re not blaming Victor,” Eddie said quickly. “It was our decision, no one forced us into it.” He gestured towards Julia. “It was only when she was dragged into the house that we started to realize how stupid we’d been.”
“We’re not collaborators,” Gilbert said, “we’re just stupid. Sometimes I think we don’t have the brains we were born with.”
Paul couldn’t stop himself from smiling at the twins’ honesty.
“And now Victor’s dead; your friend Inigo too,” Eddie said. “I took off his jacket and covered his face when I went to fetch Julia. We’ll make sure he’s buried properly when this is over.”
Paul nodded his thanks; it wasn’t easy to think of the larger-than-life figure of Inigo laying dead and cold on the forest floor.
“Do you know what the Germans are planning now?” Didier asked Gilbert.
“They spoke about getting out tonight. A plane is picking them up from the plateau.”
“Landing on the plateau! Up there!”
“We’re meant to be setting the landing torches.” He frowned. “We’re meant to get our final payment when they leave.”
“I’d rather burn their money now,” Eddie growled. “The weather’s set to turn, so they won’t put it off; they’ll go tonight if they can.”
“Exactly as you predicted,” Didier said to Paul.
Paul shrugged his shoulders, thinking quickly. “We have to use it to our advantage now. And we’ve got three things in our favour.”
“And they are?”
“One and two; they don’t know how many we are or how well armed we are.”
“They saw three shotguns and they heard the petrol bombs.”
“But they don’t know that’s all we have. Our best weapon is bluff; make them believe we’re a bigger and better armed force than we actually are.”
“But what if Henri’s daughter tells them the truth?” Eddie asked.
“Josette will tell them nothing,” Paul said sharply.
“Nothing,” Didier echoed.
Gilbert looked at Paul. “You said three things in our favour – what’s the third?”
“Actually, it’s four things. Three and four are you and your brother.”
“Us?”
“The Germans need you to get away, and I’ve got an idea. So we’ll make them an offer; in exchange for Josette they get safe passage from the forest and you two going with them to the plateau to light the landing strip. Exactly as they wanted.”
Gilbert’s face clouded. “But we told you, we won’t help them again.”
“You’ll be helping us and getting rid of them,” Paul argued. “And there’s no point in more fighting if we can avoid it. We won’t beat them that way.”
Gilbert shrugged his broad shoulders. “Maybe you’re right, maybe it’s worth a try.”
Eddie gestured towards Max and Julia. “But what about them? He’s what this is all about. If the Germans know he’s around, they might still try to grab him.”
Gilbert nodded in admiration. “Sometimes, little brother, you’re not as stupid as you look.”
“And he’s right,” Didier said. “The Germans put a lot of money and effort into this operation. They want Max badly. We should get the two of them away from here now.”
“But where to? Where do they go?” Paul said.
“We’ll take them to Antoine and Rosalie Granel at Bélesta. They’ll be safe there until this is all over.”
Paul nodded. “It’s a good idea, but we’ve only got Henri’s car; we’ll need that ourselves.”
Alain Noury had said nothing during the exchange, but he’d been listening intently to every word.
“I can take them,” he said, smiling. “My van’s at the end of the track. I’ll take them to Bélesta if you want.”
THIRTY-FIVE
Rudi Werner had always secretly wanted to be a sniper. The Brandenburgers were a special outfit and he felt privileged to be part of the regiment, but to be a sniper: that was extra special. That was Iron Cross territory.
A sniper was a man apart, working alone, taking orders from no one, ice-cool in all circumstances, living or dying by his own split-second decisions.
Snipers were a special
breed. Snipers, Rudi Werner thought, were men like him.
Werner had twice before applied to join the elite group of individuals drawn from all parts of the army. Both times he had been one hundred per cent successful on the firing range, but both times he’d been rejected after his interview. He was disappointed, but not downhearted. He knew it was only a matter of time before all his qualities were fully recognized.
Werner was perched on the first floor of the farmhouse, hidden behind an upturned chair in the space where the bedroom window had been until earlier that day. He felt at ease, like a sniper.
In the prone position, looking down the barrel of his rifle, he had a perfect view of the track and entire forest area to the front of the house. His rifle was at the ready, a pistol was on one side for back-up, and in an emergency there were stick grenades on the other side. But they wouldn’t be necessary; there would be no emergency.
Let them come, however many there were; Werner was ready.
He’d pick off the twins like he’d picked off their dog. And that pushy kid who’d tried to give him orders in the forest, he’d put one right between his eyes if he showed his face.
Josette was puzzled by the man leading the German soldiers. She’d imagined that all Germans were like the brute who’d grabbed her and thrown her into the back of the lorry, but this man was being surprisingly kind and gentle. He had even smiled when she at first refused to tell him her name.
“Military prisoners of war are permitted to give their name and number when captured,” he told her in perfect French.
Josette hesitated for a moment longer before speaking. “It’s Josette.”
Lau smiled again. “Well, Josette, you have a deep cut in your leg and you’ve lost a lot of blood. I’m not a doctor, but I do have some training as a medic, so if you’ll allow me, I’ll clean it and patch you up as best I can.”
“Thank you,” Josette said. She was sitting back in an old armchair, which was fortunate, because she felt as though she might pass out at any moment.
She watched as the soldier took a knife and began to cut at the material of her ripped trousers.
“I’m afraid these are ruined anyway,” he said.
Josette turned her head away. The large kitchen looked more like the emergency ward of a hospital. Lau had attended to his own men first. The most badly burned was unconscious, and even Josette could tell that his injuries were severe. He was shivering as he slept.
The other burned man was in better shape. He was lying on a makeshift bed, smoking and exchanging a few words in German with a third man, whose head had been bandaged. He was smoking too. A fourth soldier was standing by the open door with a rifle in his hands, watching the yard.
Josette winced as the officer dabbed carefully at her wound with gauze soaked in antiseptic fluid.
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, not looking up, but continuing to clean the wound. “The stitches will hurt even more, and I’m afraid they will leave a scar.”
“I don’t care about that and I don’t care about it hurting.”
“You’re very brave.”
Josette’s famously short temper flared. “Are you laughing at me?”
Lau glanced up at her. “Certainly not.”
“Good. And I’m not crying. My eyes are watering because of the smoke from those disgusting cigarettes.”
“Of course, I understand. They are rather strong, but in the circumstances I think I must allow my men to smoke. They too are very brave.”
The stitches were excrutiating, but Josette gritted her teeth until the wound was tightly closed.
Lau nodded in satisfaction. “Not a perfect job, but not too bad.”
“Thank you.”
This time Josette watched as Lau cleaned around the wound again before starting to wrap a bandage around her leg.
“The man who was shot,” he said as he worked, “was he a relation of yours?”
“A friend.”
“And are there many more friends waiting for us out there?”
Even though she felt disorientated, Josette was still aware enough to be definite with her reply. “I can’t tell you that.”
Lau smiled. “I understand.”
“My friend, the one who was shot,” Josette said after a few moments, “he hated Nazis. I … I do, too, but … I’m grateful to you for stitching up my leg.”
Lau finished the bandaging and secured the dressing with a pin. He looked up at Josette. “Perhaps we have more in common than you know.”
“I don’t understand.”
The officer smiled again. “Never mind. I hope your leg heals well. It will be sore for a while. And you must drink plenty of fluids and be careful that your temperature does not rise. You probably need a blood transfusion, but as I said, I’m no doctor. I’ll fetch you some water.”
He got up and went to the doorway, where Erich Steidle stood guard.
Lau spoke in German. “It seems we’ve lost this time, Erich.”
Steidle kept his eyes on the forest. “What now, sir?”
“We get out tonight if we can.”
“Did she tell you anything?”
“The girl?”
Steidle nodded.
“No. And I’m not going to interrogate her; she’s just a kid.”
Steidle had a different opinion. “She helped take out two of our comrades. Good men.”
Lau gazed out to the treeline, thinking. “We’ll wait until dark and take her with us to the landing site. They won’t fire on us if they know she’s in the lorry, and we’ll make certain they do.”
“I could go out now, scout around; see if I can find out exactly how many we’re up against.”
Lau shook his head. “I need you here, Erich.”
“And the landing torches, sir?”
“They’re in the barn somewhere. It’s too risky to go for them now; our friends out there must be watching the back as well as the front. We’ll find the torches after dark.”
He saw the look of doubt cross his second-in-command’s face.
“We’ll find a way, Erich,” he said, “we always do.”
“And what about Wilhelm, sir? Will he make it?”
Lau looked over at the unconscious soldier. “I don’t know. I think his body has gone into shock; that’s as potentially fatal as the actual burns. And moving him will only make it worse.”
THIRTY-SIX
Henri suddenly leapt up from the tree stump and announced that he was ready to take command again.
“I’m sorry,” he told Paul and Didier, “I was thrown off balance when you told me about Josette, completely off balance. But I’m all right now, and ready to go on. Tell me what plans you’ve been making.”
Paul glanced at Didier and raised his eyebrows. Henri didn’t look all right, and he certainly didn’t sound all right. His eyes were wild, darting from one person to another, and both hands were bunched into tight fists. He looked and sounded like a bag of nerves ready to burst.
“We do have a plan,” Didier said gently as they moved a little away from the others so that they could speak privately, “and we’re confident we can make it work …” He hesitated for a moment. “… without you, Henri. We think you should rest for a bit longer, don’t we, Paul?”
“Nonsense,” Henri said, before Paul had the chance to speak. “I’ve been leaving far too much to you two over the past couple of days. It’s my responsibility; Josette is my responsibility. I’m leading this operation.”
“But…”
“Tell me the plan,” Henri ordered with uncharacteristic sharpness. “Quickly. We mustn’t waste any more time.”
Reluctantly, but realizing there was no other choice, Paul outlined their idea.
But it seemed as though Henri was hardly listening to Paul’s words. He fidgeted anxiously throughout the explanation, impatient to speak again. “Yes … yes,” he said, “it could work. I’ll negotiate; they can’t possibly want to take my daughter with them. She’ll only be in the
ir way.”
“But the twins are useful to them,” Didier said. “They can actually help them get off the plateau tonight.”
“And we must let them know for certain that we don’t intend to jeopardize their departure,” Henri said, clearly agitated. “It’s only Josette we’re interested in now; we must get her to safety.”
Didier glanced quickly at Paul. “Yes, Henri, we know that. We also thought it would be best to get Max and Julia away from the forest. Then we … you … can tell the Germans that there’s no longer any possibility of finding him.”
“Yes, yes, we’ll do that, too,” Henri agreed. “Keep everything simple, that’s best.”
Paul gestured over towards Alain Noury. “He’s offered to drive them to Bélesta in his van, to the Granels, but we don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“Why not?”
“We don’t think he can be trusted.”
“That’s unfair, Paul,” Henri said shortly. “I’ve had my differences with Alain in the past, but on this occasion I’m full of admiration. He heard the shooting and when he realized his cousins were in danger, he hurried to help. That takes courage.”
“I’ve never thought of Alain Noury as someone with courage,” Didier said.
“Perhaps you’ve misjudged him, then,” Henri said. “Perhaps we all have. No, we’ll let him take the Bernards to Bélesta, and then we can focus all our energies on rescuing Josette.”
“But Henri…”
“That’s my decision!” Henri snapped before Paul could object. “I’ll speak to Max and Julia and tell them exactly what’s happening, and that we’ll find them a more permanent place of safety as soon as we can.”
He hurried away and began talking earnestly to Max and Julia.
“So what do we do?” Paul said to Didier.
“We do as Henri says. He gives the orders; we follow them. And maybe we’re worrying too much. Maybe Alain is all right.”
“You don’t believe that any more than I do,” Paul said, glancing over at Alain.
Their eyes met and Alain smiled broadly, nodding ingratiatingly, and Paul was more certain than ever that he could not be trusted.