Comes a Horseman

by Anne Barwell

  Despite that, a part of him did acknowledge the possibility. His initial anger over what had happened had given way to… nothing. He couldn’t give in to his emotions. He’d made a promise to see this mission through, whatever it took.

  He paused at another fork in the tunnels, recalling the map he’d memorized. He had to keep going straight ahead. Sébastien’s contact had said that one of the prisoners was being kept in the hospital bunker, the other somewhere else, but he wasn’t sure where.

  Matt had taken the chance that Holm would keep Michel closer. It also made sense that Michel’s location would not be as well known, as he could be used to negotiate with Kristopher. It wouldn’t do for him to disappear at the crucial moment, after all.

  Taking down the radio bunker with a few well-placed explosives should provide enough distraction to get to both hostages and free them.

  He hoped.

  Whoever Sébastien’s contact was, he had kept his identity a secret and stayed well out of this. Matt understood the need for self-preservation, but he would have appreciated a little more help about now.

  Unless the whole thing was an elaborate trap?

  At this point, Matt really didn’t care. He just wanted to find Ken and get out of here. If Ken was already—Matt would cause as much damage as he possibly could and go down fighting.

  Damn it, these walls all looked the same.

  At least the place was well lit.

  A sign on the wall indicated he’d entered the section of the bunker where he needed to be. Matt clenched one fist. His skin felt clammy. He swallowed.

  Ahead of him two soldiers looked up. They stood in front of a door and were very obviously standing guard.

  “I’m here to see the prisoner,” Matt said. “Standartenführer Holm wishes me to speak to him in the hope I can get some answers out of him.”

  The men glanced at each other. “Leutnant Beutel told us to keep guard until he returned,” one of them said.

  Beutel? Holm had ordered Beutel to interrogate Ken?

  “I need to see the prisoner,” Matt said again, struggling to keep his voice calm. “Why doesn’t one of you check with Leutnant Beutel while the other stays here?” He hardened his tone. “I’d think carefully about doubting the word of a superior officer before you do so.”

  “I still need to check with the Leutnant, sir.” The Gefreiter swallowed but held his ground. “Obersturmführer Reiniger told us only to let him or Leutnant Beutel enter the room.”

  Matt nodded. “I understand that, Gefreiter, but the sooner one of you confirms my orders, the sooner we’ll all be able to get back to our duties.” He paused for effect. “And, as I said, they come directly from Standartenführer Holm.”

  “Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.” The Gefreiter who had argued the point strode away and was soon out of sight. He wouldn’t be gone long.

  “Sorry,” Matt murmured to the remaining soldier.

  “Sir?” The Gefreiter didn’t have the chance to say anything else. Matt’s fist connected with his jaw, and he slid to the floor.

  Matt kicked the door. He heard a low moan inside the room. The stupid door didn’t open. He shoved his shoulder against it, putting his weight behind the action. The door burst open. Matt dragged the unconscious man inside quickly and looked around.

  Piles of boxes filled the room. He heard the moan again. It was coming from his left. Matt pushed past the boxes, not caring when some of them fell to the floor.

  A small area had been cleared at the back of the room—square in shape and about the size of a cell.

  Ken sat slumped forward on a chair in the center of it. His arms were bound behind him, and he wasn’t moving. Blood spotted the floor around the chair. Ken’s shirt was ripped, and ugly bruises covered his chest.

  “Ken!” Matt whispered. He sprinted across the room. Was he already too late? “Ken? Please be alive. Please be alive.”

  He’d heard a moan before. That meant he was still alive. Right?

  Ken looked up, eyes unfocused, staring at Matt. “Be safe,” he whispered. “Don’t come for me.” He yanked at his restraints, rough rope chafing already raw wrists.

  “I’m real. I’m here.” Matt kissed Ken’s forehead. “God, what have they done to you?” He’d kill the bastards.

  Get Ken out of here. Worry about that later.

  Matt crouched down behind Ken, pulled out a knife, and cut through the ropes holding him to the chair. “I’m here to rescue you. You didn’t think I was going to leave you, did you?” He kept his tone light, knowing if he let himself think too hard about anything, he’d be no use to Ken at all.

  Ken was alive.

  “Oh hell.” Ken spoke in a hoarse whisper. “You can’t be here. You’re supposed to be safe. I don’t… I…. You can’t be here.”

  Matt sawed through the final piece of rope and pulled Ken into his arms. Ken flinched when Matt touched his skin.

  Ken’s stomach and chest were covered in bruises, one eye almost swollen shut. He took a breath and let out a grunt of pain. He probably had at least one broken rib, maybe more.

  “I’m rescuing you whether you like it or not.” Matt leaned in and kissed Ken on the lips. “I love you, and I don’t want a life without you.” He helped Ken to his feet and wrapped an arm around him to steady him. “We’re getting out of here. You can tell me I’m an idiot later.”

  “You’re an idiot, and I love you too.” Ken hissed in pain. “Waste of time arguing with you.” He tried to stand on his own and nearly fell over. “Need to help me,” he said through gritted teeth.

  “I am going to kill the fucking asshole who did this to you.”

  “Oh God.” Ken tried to shove Matt behind him.

  Matt looked up and saw what—or rather who—Ken was looking at.

  “Herr Bryant.” Holm’s expression suggested he’d tasted something nasty. “This explains so much. You’re…. I’d say it was quite the touching reunion if I wasn’t so disgusted by it.” He aimed his weapon at both of them. “I have no use for either of you. The question is, who do I kill first?”

  “You fucking bastard.” Matt stepped in front of Ken and drew his own weapon. Holm couldn’t kill both of them with one bullet. Matt would get him first, whatever it took.

  Holm smiled. “I don’t think so.” His finger tightened on the trigger.

  The ground shook under them. Boxes wobbled, then fell. Matt ducked to avoid them just as Holm fired. Ken hit the floor with a thud. The lights died, plunging the room into darkness. Matt reached out, frantically trying to find Ken. His hands hit cardboard, then metal. He pushed them aside, only to grasp at air.

  “Ken!” Matt didn’t dare fire his weapon. “Ken?”

  Please no.

  He heard someone grunt. Was it Ken or Holm? Had the noise come from behind him or in front of him?

  A siren wailed its warning too late. Air raid.

  Matt coughed.

  Smoke.

  Something was on fire. He almost hoped for a flame, anything to be rid of the darkness. He hated the dark—it felt too much like the familiar panic and dread of his nightmares.

  This wasn’t a dream. This was real.

  He wasn’t alone. He almost wished he was.

  Chapter Eighteen

  KRISTOPHER PARKED the stolen car a few hundred meters away from the command post and took one last look at himself in the rearview mirror. He adjusted his fedora and then climbed out of the car.

  It had taken a few tries to find an unlocked car, and he’d almost been caught while he’d bypassed the ignition in an attempt to get it started.

  The hat and coat completed his persona. He had to look the part he was playing, or he’d never get past the guards. Someone dressed as a Frenchman would only further raise suspicion, and he was taking a big chance as it was.

  A couple of deep breaths and Kristopher began walking. He could do this. He had to do this.

  The barbed wire on either side of the trenches surrounding the artillery battery d
id nothing to set his mind at ease. Escape that way would be impossible. Even if he wasn’t caught on the barbed wire, he doubted he’d escape the blast of a land mine.

  He caught a whiff of the ocean—a reminder that the cliff face wasn’t far away. Whoever had chosen this location had thought of almost everything.

  Only one guard stood in front of the narrow tunnel that led into the command bunker.

  Kristopher strode up to him. “Good evening, Gefreiter,” he said pleasantly. “I am Doktor Gage and here at the request of Standartenführer Holm.” He pulled out his identity papers and gave them to the guard. “And before you ask, yes, I was born here, but my mother is German, and my home is in Berlin.”

  “I have no—”

  Kristopher interrupted him before he could speak further. “It’s good to see someone being so thorough.” He reached into his pocket for the note Holm had sent and showed it to the Gefreiter. He’d already folded it over so the first half of it couldn’t be seen. “See, it says there that he requests my presence here before curfew. I’m sure you recognize his signature.”

  “It doesn’t have your name on it, sir.” The Gefreiter glanced between the identity papers and the man in front of him. Unfortunately Kristopher only had access to his papers for Benoit Gage on such short notice, but it was better than trying to bluff his way into the command bunker with no papers at all.

  “Unfortunately that part of the note is classified, so I can’t show it to you.” Kristopher sighed. “I see my earlier appraisal of your efficiency was a misjudgment on my part.” He took back the note. “Not only do I have to deal with my car breaking down, which is why I’m late, but now your insubordination.” He gave the soldier a look of disdain. “I wish to speak to your superior officer. I’m sure he will treat me with the respect I deserve. What was his name again? We spoke on the telephone earlier. Oh yes. Obersturmführer Reiniger.”

  The Gefreiter paled. Reiniger’s reputation hadn’t lessened since his time at the institute in Berlin.

  Kristopher glanced at his watch. “This is important. Herr Holm asked for me specifically, and my identity papers are in order, are they not?” He studied the Gefreiter and altered his expression to one of extreme annoyance. “I don’t remember you from the institute. Are you a new addition to Herr Holm’s staff?”

  “Yes, sir.” The Gefreiter seemed suddenly unsure. He wasn’t very old, probably twenty if that.

  “Ah,” Kristopher said. “I worked there directly under Doktor Kluge and Doktor Lehrer. Brilliant men. Both of them. I was very distressed over the whole business.” He shook his head sadly.

  The Gefreiter barely managed to hide his concern, although it was probably for himself rather than Kristopher. “I’m sorry to have held you up, sir.” He stood to one side to let Kristopher pass. “Have a good evening, sir.”

  “Thank you, Gefreiter.” Kristopher paused at the doorway. “What is your name, Gefreiter? I’ll be sure to put in a good word for you.”

  “That’s fine, sir, and totally unnecessary.” The Gefreiter saluted. “There’s a room at the end of this first tunnel. The soldier there will check your papers again and then call someone to take you to Herr Holm.”

  “Very good.” Kristopher didn’t smile. He just walked past the Gefreiter without another word. He couldn’t believe his ploy had worked so well. But then, his father had been a master at bullying his employees to ensure he got the results he wanted.

  I’m playing my father.

  Aren’t I?

  Kristopher’s mouth felt dry. Surely he hadn’t ever been as abrupt and obnoxious as his father used to be? A memory of when he’d looked in the mirror after he’d first dyed his hair a darker shade caught him unawares, and his step faltered. He’d seen a glimpse of his father in himself then. Merely a glimpse, and only in looks.

  I’m nothing like him, and I don’t intend to be.

  Paul Lehrer had embraced Hitler’s ideals and wanted to be rid of the Jews and others he thought of as undesirables.

  What would he have thought of Kristopher risking his life to save the man he loved?

  Kristopher didn’t have the luxury of worrying about that now. He had to find Michel or at least what had happened to him. Then he’d decide what to do next.

  To his surprise, the guard he expected to be on duty at the front desk was nowhere in sight. Another man lay sprawled across the desk. Either asleep or…?

  Kristopher let out a sigh of relief. He’d been prepared to have to repeat his story and to an audience who would be much harder to convince. He hesitated. This was too easy. The man at the desk wasn’t moving at all. He peered closer. Was that blood?

  A muffled grunt sounded from under the table. Kristopher ducked his head to take a look and met the angry gaze of a soldier. The man was restrained, and there was dried blood on his leg. Apart from that, he seemed unharmed and would have to stay there until someone else found him. Hopefully it wouldn’t be for a while yet. Kristopher had memorized the map for the bunkers and their connecting tunnels when Matt and Sébastien were formulating their plan. He’d head for Holm’s office and start looking in the storage rooms nearby.

  “Is this your doing?” Oberscharführer Esser stepped out of the tunnel ahead, blocking Kristopher’s path.

  “I found them like this.” Kristopher thought quickly. Esser must know who he was. “I’m here to see Herr Holm as he requested,” he said. If he could distract Esser for a moment, he could maybe…. God, he’d have to kill him. It was the only way out of this. “I’m—”

  “I know who you are, Herr Doktor Lehrer.” Esser seemed surprised to see him but didn’t draw his weapon. He gave Kristopher a nod. “Emil Esser.”

  “I know who you are, Oberscharführer. You seem like an educated man. Let’s keep this civil, hmm?”

  “You misunderstand me, Herr Doktor. Nun muss sich alles, alles wenden.”

  “You’re the Resistance contact?” Despite Esser using the code phrase, Kristopher took a step back. “You really expect me to trust you?”

  “I saw you and Herr Doktor Zhou at the safe house, and I said nothing,” Esser said. He indicated the tunnel. “We should walk or someone might be suspicious. I’m sure neither one of us wants to be here when these men are discovered.”

  “I didn’t kill that man,” Kristopher said evenly. There was something about Esser’s words that made him think the man spoke the truth.

  “I also warned Jacques Dubois’s family in Pont-Audemer,” Esser said. “I fight for our country, Herr Doktor, as I believe you do, but I will not be party to Holm’s methods. I will tell you where your friend is, and then I will leave. I suggest you do the same. The Resistance is finished in this area. Holm knows who they are, and he is sending his men to round them up tonight.”

  “How do I know you’re not delivering me to Herr Holm?” Kristopher asked. He didn’t want to reveal his weapon until he was sure he could win any altercation, and he didn’t have a silencer on his gun like Matt and the others did.

  “You don’t. At least not yet.” Sébastien stepped out of the shadows, his gun aimed at Esser, who raised his arms. “You’re not supposed to be here,” he told Kristopher.

  “The church was compromised. Théo is dead, and I think Nicolas is too. I hope Cécile is safe, but Théo was going to find her when he was caught. There was nowhere else to go.”

  “So you figured you’d go down fighting?” Sébastien asked. “You play a dangerous game, mon ami.” He cocked his head at Esser. “Eine Kugel kam geflogen.”

  Like the first, it was another quote from a poem by Uhland.

  “Ich hatt’ einen Kameraden,” Esser replied.

  Sébastien lowered his gun. “You could have found out the code phrase you used earlier through torturing members of the local Resistance, but only one person besides myself knew the correct response to that one. This man can be trusted. He is my contact.”

  “How long have you been listening?” Kristopher asked. “Where’s Liang?”


  “He’s gone after Reiniger,” Sébastien said. “Michel wasn’t where we thought, so I was heading back. I’ve set the explosives on a timer, so if we’re going to find him, we’d better do it quickly.”

  “He’s gone after Reiniger?” Kristopher felt his stomach sink. “Reiniger will kill him! You have to find him. I’ll search for Michel—”

  “He is being held in a cell off the storeroom by the ammunition tunnel,” Esser said quickly. “The cell is not included in the original plans, and Holm has only trusted a few men with its location, which is why it’s taken me this long to discover where it is.”

  Kristopher raised an eyebrow. “Holm doesn’t trust you.”

  “Not only that, but I think he grows suspicious, so I won’t be able to help you for much longer. Reiniger will be inspecting the mess shelter. I know the route he will have taken. If Sébastien and I intercept Reiniger, it will give you some time to get to your friend.”

  “Hopefully Liang hasn’t confronted him yet,” Kristopher said. He thought about telling Esser he’d be able to surrender to the Allies soon but decided to keep that information to himself for now. He’d find out soon enough, and Kristopher planned to be well away before the Allied troops arrived. He wouldn’t be caught by either side.

  “He said he hoped Reiniger could lead him to Michel,” Sébastien said. “He didn’t say anything about confronting him.”

  “If the opportunity presents itself, he’ll take it.” Kristopher knew what he’d do if he was in Liang’s position. “Good luck.” He nodded his thanks and turned to walk away.

  The ground rocked.

  Kristopher grabbed for the wall.

  “Air raid.” Esser swore under his breath. He took a step back toward the entrance.

  Then the lights went out.

  LIANG FOLLOWED Reiniger at a discreet distance. He kept his head down and was careful to avoid eye contact. The couple of soldiers he passed had encountered Reiniger first, and then seemed in a hurry to leave his presence as soon as they could. Liang could understand that. He had no intention of confronting the man unless he had to.