“Anything old they said, they took some paintings and pottery and left.” Trevor shrugged his shoulders.
“Why?” asked Tom. “They starting an antiques shop?”
“Hitler has ordered the collection of antiques and old books and for them to be shipped to Berlin before Paris is liberated,” explained Jack. “They wouldn’t have found much here.”
Felix and Tom had seen this in the film “Monument Men” the previous year. They had gone on a double date where Felix was too nervous to talk and Tom showed off so much the girls just left, never to be seen again. The film was about a group of antiques experts whose mission was to save artwork and antiques from the Germans. The boys had been lucky, being tourists had paid off. If they had been in the house they may have been captured.
“Lucky escape,” said Jack laughing, “We have three hours until we are off.”
Jack explained to Trevor they were going to rescue another operative from a safe house in an area swarming with Germans.
“Count me in.” Trevor obviously missed the action of the front line. “I’ll get what we need together, and you go and get some shut eye.”
They slept through the afternoon. None of them knew what lay ahead that evening, but they knew it would not be dull.
13
Trevor woke the trio at 8 for dinner. For once it was not bread, cheese and ham. It was a fantastic chicken stew that would give them the energy to fulfil their mission. He had also prepared their weapons. He informed them that maps and papers were sown into the lining of their trousers just in case they got into any trouble.
Felix was filled with nerves. This was the first time he felt he was really putting himself in danger. He once again had a pistol but he did not know if he could use it.
“Cut it out!” Felix whispered to Tom as he rolled around the living room playing Cowboys and Indians, pretending to shoot anything that moved. Jack tried his best to lighten the mood with jokes and tales of daring do during his time in Northern France, but the nerves did not go. As he tucked The Book of Words into the waistband of his trousers, Felix wondered whether the Germans were all he had to worry about tonight. They covered their faces in boot polish, much to Tom’s pleasure, to hide their faces in the moonlight. The group slipped quietly out of the back door leaving Trevor to await their return.
They crept quietly in the dark through the back alleys and lanes. Every now and again they hid from the beam of a patrol’s torches. The patrols seemed amateur, taking cursory glances up and down the side streets as they walked along the main thoroughfares. It only took twenty minutes to reach Jean-Claude’s house. The stable door was opened and they were greeted like long lost friends. Two shadowy figures lurked in the back room. Felix, Tom and Jack were introduced to Patrick and Leon, the other Guardians.
Patrick was short, only coming up to Jack’s shoulders, but he made up for his lack of height with his muscle and bulk. He looked like a bulldog and looked like he would take no nonsense. Leon was the complete opposite; a tall, thin giant of a man. They both had beaming smiles and like everyone else were covered in boot polish.
“These guys look like they mean business.” smiled Tom.
“For God sake just do as you’re told, this isn’t paintballing. We could die!” Felix trembled with fear.
The Guardians discussed their search pattern of the area. They also had an escape plan. They would split up and meet back at Trevor’s safe house. The Germans had searched that area earlier so did not have any further interest there. They seemed confident that they would find Emile.
“Where is he?” asked Felix.
“We have narrowed it down to these three streets.” Patrick pointed at his map.
“The Germans are everywhere there,” announced Leon.
“What are our chances of getting him?” asked Tom, more worried about getting back home than anything else.
“We’ll get back,” grimaced Jean-Claude, “but your chances are slim.”
Tom slumped into a chair as the others laughed out loud. Felix took out The Book of Words and asked if it knew where The Keeper was. The reply was confusing:
‘You are The Keeper’
Felix looked at the map. Four red swords were in one place. He asked where Emile Dupont was. After what felt like an hour to Felix, but was actually less than a minute, the reply appeared:
‘There is danger ahead and all around you. Beware the Brethren’
“The Book says to beware the Brethren,” cried Felix, causing the others to become silent.
“Great,” sighed Tom, “we’re dead!”
Felix gave Tom one of his stern looks as he realised they were asking the others to put their lives in danger to protect him from the Brethren. ‘We could just stay in 1944,’ thought Felix, ‘then nobody dies.’ But he knew that wasn’t an option.
The six odd looking warriors made their way out of the stable door and into the pitch black alleyway. There was little trouble as they approached the area in which they thought they would find Emile. The odd German search patrol was avoided through blending into the shadows and hiding behind walls. The Guardians looked concerned. Leon, who was the strongest character and the leader by default, pointed to a side building next to an empty restaurant and the group scurried in.
“Are your ears burning?” Leon asked the others
“Mine are freezing.” Tom thought they were all going mad.
“Not you fool, the Guardians. It’s how we sense the Keeper,” snarled Patrick.
Felix and Tom looked at Jack quizzically.
“You know hide and seek? Warmer, colder?” whispered Jack.
“Of course,” said Tom, rolling his eyes at Felix.
“Well it’s a game that has come from the early training for Guardians. Our ears get warmer as we get closer to a Keeper,” Jack explained.
“All our ears are burning at the moment, we know it’s not Emile as he is too far away,” said Patrick. “It must be you!” He pointed at Felix.
The four had a discussion and turned to Felix. “You will have to wait here. We’ll find Emile and bring him to you.” Felix accepted he was of no use to the Guardians and made himself comfortable in a smelly old armchair to await their return.
“I’ll wait here too, keep him company,” said Tom quietly.
“No chance my little cherub.” Leon patted him on the back. “We need you for our plan.”
Tom waved and mouthed something undecipherable in the dark to Felix and then the Guardians and Tom were gone.
14
Tom was petrified when the group of warriors left the shed. He didn’t want to leave his best friend behind. He had always been there for Felix through thick and thin. He saw Felix as his equal but Tom knew that others dismissed his mate’s lack of physical prowess as a weakness. Felix had been bullied since he had known him; but their friendship was forged when Tom had retrieved a tricycle from a big girl, who had pushed Felix off it and ridden off into the nursery garden, and given it back to Felix. Tom was proud of Felix as he was intelligent and could usually think his way through life. This little trip into the past was stretching both of them to the limit.
He followed the Guardians like a lost puppy, knowing that his only chance of getting through this was to do as he was told and stick to the Guardians like glue.
“Get your pistol out,” whispered Jack.
Tom delved into his rucksack and pulled out the weapon. His hand shook so much he almost dropped it. Jack put his arm round him and said, “This is to get you home, just stick with me, point and shoot when I start shooting.” Tom nodded. “And only shoot the bad men,” added Jack with a huge grin on his face. Tom nodded, smiled, gripped the pistol firmly and followed Jack closely.
Leon led the shadowy figures through the back streets towards a brightly lit main road. Search lights shone down on the houses as groups of German soldiers entered noisily. The group crouched behind a parked lorry. Rows of German trucks lined the street. Soldiers were running everywhere, so
me ushering the scared inhabitants of the houses down towards the river while some loaded paintings and furniture onto trucks. The civilians clutched suitcases and bundles full of possessions and clothes.
“We have to get to stay low,” whispered Leon, “down to the river.”
“Are we swimming?” Tom asked Jack.
“Maybe, it depends on the river level,” he replied.
The Guardians slinked over the road and down the embankment to the river’s edge. They sidled along a narrow ledge past the German search lights. One by one they climbed back up to the road and quietly crossed into a narrow alley. The Germans were so busy they would not have noticed a herd of elephants marching down the street.
Their concentration was disturbed by an almighty explosion. The blast and smoke seemed to come from the near Jean-Claude’s house. The Guardians looked at each other in a way that told Tom this meant trouble. The last time he had seen smoke this thick had been back at Queen Anne’s School. He knew what would come next.
“Brethren?” he whispered to Patrick.
“Oui, mon ami,” the stocky Patrick replied. “They are here. We have to get the Keeper and fast.”
Tom turned to Jack and stated what they were all thinking, “But Felix is a Keeper too. What if they go for him?”
“I think your friend will be OK. If he is clever he will stay put until we return.” Tom saw that Leon wasn’t too convinced by his own statement.
Tom wanted to run back to Felix and tell him what was happening, to warn him about the Brethren. He soon accepted he was going to have to stay here, but if he had guessed the Brethren were here he was sure Felix would have too. Felix was bright. He would get back to Trevor if he had to.
Leon whispered, “Come on, vite, quickly.” Once again the Guardians moved on.
They rounded the corner and entered the back yard of one of the houses. Leon opened the door, scratching his ears hard. The Guardians sensed Emile was close. They searched the house, they even sent Tom up in to the dark, dusty attic to search. Emile was nowhere to be found. They sat in the kitchen planning their next move. Tom suddenly jumped up and grabbed a jug of water.
“What the hell are you doing?” To Jack’s surprise Tom began pouring water all over the kitchen tiles.
“The Great Escape!” squealed Tom, “Great film! This is how they found the tunnel.”
“The Great what?” Jack had never heard that phrase before.
Tom laughed as he realised that the film wasn’t going to be made for twenty years. “It’s a film. The Germans pour coffee on tiles and the coffee trickled through when it dropped into a tunnel.”
“Genius!” Leon grabbed a vase and emptying the contents onto the floor. He smiled as he heard a trickling. He unpicked a broken tile to find a metal hook. They pulled on the improvised handle and there huddled together in a small burrow were three figures: a woman, a teenage boy and a toddler.
“Emile?” asked Leon.
“Oui!” cried the boy, as he sprung up holding a bejewelled broad sword above his head ready to attack. Emile was a couple of years older than Felix and Tom but a lot taller and stockier, his curly black hair bobbed up and down as he jumped out of the hiding hole.
“We’re Guardians!” exclaimed Patrick before Emile had a chance to strike.
A look of relief spread across Emile’s face as he called for his mother and brother to join him amongst friends. The little boy was bawling uncontrollably. Leon quickly explained why they had come and that the Brethren weren’t far away. As they prepared to move they heard a voice that sent a shiver down all their spines, “The Keeper, Emile Dupont. Where are you?”
Tom knew what was about to appear and stood behind Jack. The Guardians drew their sabres, four gleaming blades, one for each of the Brethren monks. Emile stood with them ready for the fight, his mother and brother joined Tom behind the awaiting warriors.
“What about Felix?” screamed Tom.
“He’s right, we need to get Emile to Felix.” Jack knew it was the only chance of getting Felix and Tom home.
Leon nodded in agreement. Jean-Claude clasped Leon’s shoulder. “I will stay with you!”
Leon smiled and ordered Jack and Patrick to take the Duponts and Tom to safety. Without hesitation Jack pushed the family through the front door of the house and onto the main street. Tom waved to Leon and followed. He looked back as he heard the back door crash in and Leon and Jean-Claude charged at the Brethren.
The Germans were still busy searching and looting the houses down the street and were oblivious to the escapees running across the street to the river.
“We’ve only got one chance of getting to Trevor’s house.” said Jack. “We have to cross the river to avoid the German search. We can double back at the next bridge.”
Patrick disappeared along the river bank and returned moments later with a small rowing boat which was only big enough for four. Jack smirked at Tom and loaded the Dupont family into the boat.
“Come on,” he barked at Tom as he finished loading the Duponts into the boat. Tom assumed he was about to get wet, and he was right. He slowly lowered himself into the freezing waters of the Seine. Any breath Tom had left his body in an almighty gasp as he submerged.
“No splashing,” smiled Jack as he pushed off across the river. Tom reluctantly followed. The pair reached the opposite bank, tired, cold and soaked through. They ran to meet Patrick upstream, the strong current had carried them some distance away from the boat as they swam.
They re-joined Patrick and the Duponts and crept quickly along the river bank. Tom was shivering now but he knew he could not feel sorry for himself, he had to get to Felix. In no time they were approaching the bridge which would lead them back to Felix, and to Trevor’s house. Patrick pointed across to a group of German soldiers dragging a prisoner along the road on the opposite side of the river. The shadowy figure looked familiar.
15
Every five minutes the beams of searching flashlights flickered through the shed window. Felix was sitting in the middle of a German search. He wondered if they were aware of his presence and their search was for him. He did not feel safe and decided that he had to move, but he didn’t know when it would be safe.
The choice was made for him as the shed was shaken by an almighty blast. There were no bombings in Paris during the war, the odd resistance action, but nothing like this. His body stiffened, his mind froze. He had seen this thick smoke that crept through the air before. It was the Brethren! They were here. They were after the Book. He peeked through a gap in the shed walls as four ghostly figures strode past. It was the monks!
Felix waited a few minutes and left the shed. He crawled across the courtyard of the restaurant and onto the street. Staying close to the buildings he worked his way slowly away from the monsters. At a junction he could hear voices and breaking wood. He peered round the building and saw hundreds of soldiers pulling people onto the street and marching them down towards the river. The contents of the houses were being thrown through windows onto the street where they splintered into firewood. Another group were loading pictures, antique furniture and old books into trucks that sped away, once filled, towards the railway yard.
He heard a voice that sent a shiver down his spine.
“The Keeper, Emile Dupont. Where are you?” came the gravelly call.
He cowered in a dark doorway behind a large cart. The monks floated past onto the main road and headed towards the chaos. The Germans seemed to take the appearance of the monks in their stride. The German Captain spoke to the Brethren and they disappeared into a building. There were clashes of steel, the Guardians inside were putting up a fight. He was alone; the Guardians would die and he would never get back to London and home. He felt a momentary despair. He opened the Book and whispered, “What now?”
Follow your instinct, follow their instructions
Felix’s instinct was to run. Their instructions were to meet at Trevor’s. He was getting good at running but he was lost. He
looked at the Book but it was too faint to read in the growing darkness. He looked at the map but wasn’t sure he could follow it accurately through the night-time streets. He decided that if he got to the river he could remember his way back. The clashing blades filled the air ahead, the Guardians were a lot younger than Mr Buckley and the battle seemed ferocious. Felix had to get back to the safety of Trevor’s house.
Felix stumbled out onto the road next to the river. It was doused in moonlight and compared to the back lanes it was like walking in daylight. He could see the patrols and would quickly dart into a dark doorway or behind a wall to evade them. He started to recognise the landscape. On the far side of the river he could see six strange figures keeping low and heading in the same direction as him. He looked carefully at them. It was Jack, Patrick and Tom, accompanied by three smaller figures he assumed were Emile and his family. His mood lightened, he would soon be safe with his friends and on his way home.
He was close now. Two more side streets and he would turn off the dangerous main road. A patrol appeared in the distance, so he darted up an alley. He crouched behind a bin and waited for the inevitable flash of light before he could continue his journey. The flash came, he waited a minute and stood up.
“Halt,” came the call.
He turned to run but he was surrounded. Two soldiers had been having a cigarette at the top of the alley and had seen him crouch down. The patrol had heard the cry and had the exit blocked. He reached into his pocket for the pistol but realised his chance of survival would be slim. He gave himself up and went quietly. He whistled defiantly as he was dragged along the river bank. Felix looked desperately at the group on the far bank. The tune he made was “It’s a long way to Tipperary”. Jack must have recognised the tune as he waved and gave him the thumbs up. He knew they would try and rescue him.
Felix Jones And The Book Of Words (A Felix Jones Adventure 1) Page 5