Lieutenant Scharmann burst through the door and stopped abruptly while Dietrich put a rain protector over his billed cap. He was wary, never knowing what the major had in mind. “Yes, sir?”
“Get the car ready, Lieutenant. We’re going down to check the docks.”
Scharmann let nothing show on his face, but he thought, He’s gone crazy, but I can’t argue with him. However, he did observe mildly, “Surely no one in his right mind would be stirring on a night like this, Major.”
“Put on your rain gear and come with me.”
The two men left the shelter of headquarters, plunging out into the darkness of the night. The keening wind raised its voice, and both men had to lean against the driving force of the powerful blasts that shook them. They got in the staff car, slamming the doors against the force of the wind, and without comment started toward the dock.
****
Jean peered out into the darkness, edging the truck along. He left the lights off and thus far had seen no patrols.
“They’re all asleep or drunk—or both,” he muttered, grinning into the darkness.
The truck was rocked constantly by blasts of wind, and the question that kept returning to his mind was, If it can push a truck around, it can push a ship around too. He was not a man, however, given to nursing his fears, so he concentrated on moving along. Finally he pulled up at the dock and saw the bare outlines of Leota’s mass. Leaving the engine running, he leaped out and was joined at once by Arnaud.
“Everything all right?” his friend asked.
“Sure. Why wouldn’t it be? I’ve got them here. Are you ready to shove off?”
Arnaud shook his head. “Pascal and Garland are in the boat, but we’d better think twice, Jean. It’s awfully rough out there. I’ve never been out on a sea like this. And you haven’t either, have you?”
“No. But there’s a first time for everything. Help me get the canvas off.”
The two men struggled to untie the canvas and pull it back. They removed two of the barrels, and Jean leaned forward in the darkness. “We’re here. Get out.”
He helped the children down as they emerged from the dark. When they were all off, he said, “Arnaud, take these kids on board. And send Pascal out to hide the truck.”
“Right!”
Jean helped Jolie get out and then stepped aside as Tyler came to the ground.
“Have you ever been out in a ship in weather this bad?” Jolie had to raise her voice against the wind.
“No, but we can make it. I never start something I can’t finish.” He grinned.
Tyler braced himself. The rain had now stopped, but it seemed even windier than before. “Will it get better at sea?”
“It’ll probably be worse, but we don’t have much choice, do we? It’s now or never.”
“I hate to put you and your men at risk, Jean,” Jolie said. “It’s not even your problem.”
“We’re old enough to know what we want to do. Come on.”
Pascal jogged up to Jean.
“Take the truck back to my place and park it in the shed. Take the keys out of it and put them over the right front tire. And hurry up, will you?”
“Right.” The man got into the truck and drove off at once.
“Come on,” Jean said, turning his attention to Jolie and Tyler. “Let’s get on the boat.”
No sooner had he spoken than twin beams cut through the gloom of darkness, centering directly on the figures that stood there, suddenly helpless. All of them involuntarily glanced at the lights and then, unable to meet their brightness, dropped their heads and waited.
“Stay right where you are,” a voice came. “Shoot anyone who moves, Lieutenant.”
Jolie knew the blackest form of despair she had ever known in her life. To come so close and then to lose it, she couldn’t help thinking. She had been filled with a fierce sense of satisfaction, believing they were going to make it, but now she knew that all was lost.
The three of them stood there, and Jean said mildly, “I hate that we didn’t even get a chance at it.”
A figure came into the headlights, and Jolie recognized the officer as Major Dietrich. He came forward holding a Luger in his hand, and behind him another officer was similarly armed.
Tyler edged his hand toward the pistol in his belt, but instantly Dietrich pointed his weapon straight at Tyler.
“That man’s reaching for a gun,” he barked with a harsh tone that left no doubt about his intentions.
“Should I shoot him?”
“If he doesn’t drop it, yes.”
“Drop the gun, Tyler,” Jolie said. “They’ll kill you if you don’t.”
Tyler plucked the pistol out with his thumb and forefinger and dropped it on the ground.
“Back up now.” The three backed up, and Dietrich picked up the pistol. He now had one gun in each hand, his forefingers on the triggers. He stepped closer, and there was a thin smile on his face that Jolie could see by the faint light. “So,” he said, “we meet again.” He swung one of the weapons in Jolie’s direction. “Did you kill my nephew?”
At once Tyler said, “No. I did.”
Dietrich swung the Luger in Tyler’s direction, and Jolie cried out, “No, please don’t shoot!”
“I will not shoot as long as you obey, but you will pay for murdering my nephew.”
“Lieutenant, take the car back to the squad room and get some backup over here at once.”
“But, Major—”
“I will take care of this.” Dietrich’s voice was triumphant. “Go now. That’s an order.”
“Yes, sir.”
“But first bring me the flashlight from the front seat.”
“Yes, Major.”
Scharmann brought the flashlight back. Dietrich turned it on and slipped the extra weapon into his pocket. “Now, go get the squad. Don’t worry. I’ll be all right here. I’ll be very well indeed.” He seemed pleased, and there was cruelty in his smile as he stared at the prisoners.
Scharmann ran to the car, leaving the group in the single beam of light that came from the flashlight.
“Stay very close together,” Dietrich commanded. “I would not mind killing any of you. But I must warn you. You are all going to hang. If you’d rather be shot, I’d be glad to accommodate you.”
Jolie said quietly, “I’m sorry, Jean—and you, Tyler, for getting you into this.”
“We knew what we were doing,” Tyler said.
“You knew what you were doing when you killed my nephew.”
“He was attempting to assault this young woman,” Tyler said evenly. Death was very close, and for some reason he felt no fear. He had always wondered what he would feel if he knew he was going to die, and now he knew. All he felt was a great disappointment. The children were on the boat, but Jean’s friends couldn’t leave with the major standing so near. It was all over—all finished and all for nothing.
A sharper blast of wind and a rising volume of sound rocked all of them. Dietrich kept his balance, and the light in his hand was steady. “You fools would have drowned even if I had not caught you. You American. What’s your name?”
“Tyler Winslow.”
“I suppose you thought because you were an American we would not dare to execute you. Rest assured, we have no fear on that score.”
“I’m sure you can handle it,” Tyler said.
Jolie listened as Major Dietrich spoke, venom dripping from his words. He was cursing and pointing out in exact terms what waited for them, but even as he spoke, Jolie caught a fleeting glimpse of a movement over to her left. She saw a form of a man, dressed in dark clothing, come slowly out of the water and up onto the dock. As she watched, Major Dietrich moved over and cut off her view. She knew she must keep Dietrich’s attention on her so that whoever was on the dock would not be seen or heard.
“Major, I beg you to let these children go. Let the crew take them to England.”
“And what about you, Doctor?”
“It do
esn’t matter about me, but they’re only children.”
“Don’t worry. I will see that they find a place.”
“Please let them go.”
Jolie could not see anything but the bright ring of the major’s light as he held it steadily. She continued to shout against the wind, begging him to have mercy.
“You’re an educated woman. You should have better sense. I suppose the American gave you the idea for this mad scheme. Americans all think they are heroes like Buffalo Bill.”
“No. I’m the one who talked him into this plan.”
“Then he is a fool!” Dietrich laughed sharply. “You love him, I suppose.”
Without a pause, Jolie said, “Yes, I do love him. Let him go, at least.”
“Let him go? He murdered my nephew!”
“To keep him from attacking me.” She was desperate now. “If anything happens to him, the Americans will find out about it.”
“The Americans will not come into this war. They’re smart enough to take care of their own problems.” Dietrich glanced over his shoulder, evidently looking for the car, and for a moment fear grasped Jolie. Then suddenly the light disappeared. It spun crazily, casting its single beam upward and then downward before falling to the ground.
At once Jean leaped forward and shouted, “Is that you, Arnaud?”
The flashlight suddenly rose from the ground and Arnaud Heuse held it to his own chin. He was laughing wildly, and then he pointed it down at the crumpled body of the major. “I have captured the German army, Jean. You must see to it I get a medal.”
“Quick, everybody get on board,” Jean said. “They’ll be back soon.”
“What about the major?”
“He’s a prisoner of war.” Jean picked up the major’s pistol and stuck it in his own belt. Then he grabbed the major under the arms and started to drag him. “Give me a hand here, guys. Jolie, get aboard. We’ve got to get away from here.”
“What about the soldiers—the other men that are coming?” Tyler demanded.
“Unless they can walk on water, which I doubt, they’ll never catch us. Come on.”
Jolie scrambled to get on board while the men carried the limp body onto the boat. Jean let the major’s head drop onto the deck and then called, “Is Pascal back yet?”
“There he is,” Tyler said as Pascal flew toward the dock.
As soon as the man had jumped aboard, Jean called, “Let’s get out of here!”
Arnaud looked down at the major, his hair dripping on the man. “Is he dead? But no, I suppose my luck couldn’t be that good.”
Jolie bent over and took the major’s pulse. “No. Just knocked out.”
“Too bad,” Arnaud laughed before disappearing.
Jean came to stand over the fallen officer. “I wouldn’t have shed any tears if Arnaud had killed him, but he’ll do well enough in a British prisoner-of-war camp.” He turned to the wheel. The engine was already started. He watched as the men cast off the lines and jumped back aboard. At once he shoved the throttle forward. Leota began to pitch and buck, but he patted the wheel, murmuring, “Come along, my lady, you can do it.”
“Where are the youngsters?” Tyler asked.
“Below on the lower deck. Pascal and Garland are with them. They’ll be all right.”
Tyler moved over and put his arms around Jolie. There was only a small green light inside the cabin, and Jean was peering intently into the darkness. A sudden pitch of the Leota threw them roughly to one side. Tyler fell with his back against the wall of the cabin, but he did not release her. He could feel the trembling in her body.
“So you love me. You came out and admitted it to that Nazi.”
“I always get more romantic under pressure.” Jolie put her head down on his chest and was grateful for the strength of his arms around her, for she wasn’t at all sure she could stand unaided. All the strength that had built up within her began to fall apart, and she simply clung to him.
Jean glanced back and then laughed. “Why don’t you two go on below. You’re distracting me up here!”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Leota
Jolie was sitting on one of the built-in benches holding on as the boat pitched wildly. The young people were all sitting on the floor and appeared to be as calm as the situation would allow. Even Yolande was calm. She was holding Rochelle’s hand, and as the ship bounced around, though her eyes were big, she did not seem terribly disturbed.
Tyler was sitting with the children, one arm around Rochelle and the other around Antoine. Tyler was whispering something to Antoine that made the boy summon a ghost of a grin. Jolie could not imagine what it was, but she was glad that Tyler had noticed that the boy who had seemed so fearless on land was petrified by being in a storm at sea.
She tried to judge if the storm had lessened any, but it did not seem so. The three hands were evidently up in the wheelhouse with Jean, and none of them had come below for the past hour.
“I think it’s letting up just a bit,” Tyler called out. The electric light emitted a faint glow, casting stark shadows over the inhabitants of the belowdecks cabin, and she saw that Tyler looked relaxed. She envied him, for she was still tense over the scene at the wharf. She knew she would never forget the hopelessness that had seized her when the major caught them there.
“I can’t tell if it is,” she called back, raising her voice over the wind. “It seems bad to me.”
“Well, if this boat holds together, we’ll be on friendly soil soon,” Tyler said. “Just hang in there.”
A slight sound caught Jolie’s attention, and she looked down to see that Major Dietrich was moving his arm. Two of the deckhands had tied his arms and legs and moved him down to the lower deck after they were under way so Tyler and Jolie could keep an eye on him. Quickly she stooped beside him and checked his pulse. It was strong. His eyelids fluttered and then he opened them, staring up at her wildly. When he tried to get up, he discovered that his feet and his hands were tied. He slumped back onto the deck.
“You took a rough knock,” Jolie told him. “You’ll be fine, but right now you need to be still.”
For a moment Dietrich lay perfectly still; then he struggled again and this time managed to get into an upright seated position. He looked around at Tyler and the youngsters across the cabin sitting on the floor, and as the ship rolled, he could not catch himself because his hands were tied. Jolie caught him and said, “Here, back up against this bulkhead. It’ll be better if you don’t move around. You really should lie down.”
Dietrich’s face was pale, and his lips were drawn together in a tight line. Very rarely was he in a situation he did not control, but as he looked about him, some of the authority that was so obvious in him as a rule seemed to drain away. “This ship will never make it to England,” he whispered hoarsely. “Our naval vessels will catch you, you can be sure of that.”
“Oh, I think we’ll get to England,” Jolie said. “And you’ll be there in a prison camp until the war is over.”
“You have violated international law. You are noncombatants.”
Tyler laughed. “I’ll tell you what. Why don’t you sue us, Major Dietrich?” He was highly amused at the German’s preposterous attitude.
Dietrich glared at him but said no more.
As much as she detested what he stood for, Jolie felt that she was responsible for his health. She watched him carefully, for he had taken a terrible blow to the back of the head. She came forward and looked at his eyes carefully, studying the pupils. “I think you’re all right, Major. Just try to be calm.”
Jolie went over then and joined the group on the floor. It was easier sitting there than trying to cling to the narrow bench while Leota was being tossed in several directions. She sat down and put her arm around Damien, and he leaned against her. “You’ll have a story to tell people when we get to England, won’t you, Damien?”
“Yes,” he agreed. His eyes were glowing, and he began to speak rapidly about the possibi
lity of finally being adopted. Jolie let him go on, preferring his chatter over the oppressive silence. She looked over and saw that Rochelle was holding Antoine’s hand. The boy looked pale and sick, and from time to time Rochelle would whisper something to him.
She could not hear it, but it seemed to help the frightened boy, for he got some color in his face.
* * *
“We’re going to get there,” Rochelle told Antoine confidently.
“I-I’m scared.”
“So am I.”
Antoine swallowed hard. “I’ve never told anyone else that I was afraid.”
“It’s better to tell,” Rochelle assured him. “It’s not good to keep things like that to yourself.”
“We may die.”
“I guess so. It’s possible.”
Antoine looked over at Jolie. “She’s not afraid of dying, is she?”
“No, I wish I was like her. She risked everything to save us. She’s such a good person.”
“So are you, Rochelle, but I’m not.”
She shushed him. “Don’t be foolish. We’re going to be all right. Your grandmother was wrong.”
As the ship continued to toss, the major finally gave up trying to sit up and lay flat down on his back again.
Tyler got to his feet. “I’ll go up and find out how we’re doing.”
“Come back quick,” Yolande called out.
“I will, sweetheart.”
Tyler moved carefully along, balancing himself as the boat pitched. When he opened the door, the roar of the sea was loud, and then it was muted again when he shut it. Holding carefully to the walls, he climbed the ladder and found Jean and the other three members of the crew staring out into the darkness.
“How we doing?” Tyler shouted.
“All right. She’s holding together.”
Tyler watched for a few moments as Jean struggled with the wheel.
“Do you believe in God?” Jean asked Tyler.
“Yes.”
“Then you’d better pray, American.”
The Hesitant Hero Page 21