They were all dressed as French workmen/fishermen and would pose as a crew looking to buy a boat as theirs had been wrecked. They had forged papers with permission to travel and French money to pay for lodging. The trip was in fact a training run as part of the instruction the seven of them were getting since Marty’s meeting in the Admiralty some 3 months ago. There would be another, where the three left on the ship would go ashore and be tried.
They had been taught some interesting skills in lock picking, breaking and entering, forging (Matai was particularly good at that), opening and resealing documents, smuggling and concealing weapons, following unobserved, interrogation, living off the land and concealment (taught by a man known as a Gilly from some Scottish estate). They also learnt to rock climb, which was easy for them, swim (not so easy) and several ways to quietly kill someone (came naturally to all of them). They had also practiced learning cover stories and false identities. Tom and John had been taught some rudimentary French but their language skills were not the best even with the constant help of the others.
Their mission was to go to Calais after they landed and find the offices of the Ministry of Marine. To observe it for two days to see who visited and when, what time did people start work and when did it close down. How many guards were there overnight and what were their patrol patterns. Then they were to break in and find the office of the head man, copy his latest report to the Ministry in Paris and leave without leaving any evidence that they had been there.
Simple.
They hit the beach at around 2 am in the morning. The five of them jumped from the bow onto the sand and made their way inland. Armand guided them to a fisherman’s cottage on the edge of the village and after a whispered exchange they were let in. It was quite small but there was room enough for them to curl up on the floor and get a little sleep. The best that could be said about it was it was warm.
First thing the next morning they left and headed out to the coast road that would take them to Calais. Marty suddenly had a thought, he had worked up a Parisian accent but that was totally wrong for Calais! He thought fast. How had that fisherman pronounced his words? Did he extend the vowels of shorten them?
They hit the first checkpoint and Marty listened carefully to the way the soldiers pronounced their words and when they asked him a question he adapted his speech to match theirs. Armand looked surprised for a second but quickly regained his composure as Marty launched into a tragic tale of how his father left him his boat and now it was laying at the bottom of the bay all due to those damn English pigs. He even managed a heart wrenching sob. The soldiers swallowed the story hook, line and sinker and one even put his arm around Marty’s shoulders in sympathy. They were waved through and Armand waited until they were out of hearing of the soldiers and asked, “Where did you learn to do that?”
“Do what” said Marty
“Mimic their accent and dialect and the act” replied Armand
“I don’t know” Marty said “It just seemed to be the right thing to do”
Mon Dieu! we have a talent here, thought Armand.
An hour’s walk saw them approaching another checkpoint and they were questioned again. These soldiers were more thorough and wanted to know why they had two Basques in their party. Marty explained that his father had found these two adrift in a mast-less boat after a huge storm 5 years ago and they had worked with his family ever since. He told them that they were like uncles to him now as they had looked after him since his father had died.
An officer approached, which explained the soldier’s zeal. He looked the party over and asked to see in their bags. Marty opened his revealing a dead conger eel which he explained was a gift to the shipwright who had made their new boat. He then cursed the man because as they didn’t have enough money he would be claiming half their catch until it was paid off. The officer recoiled from the fearsome looking beast with a curse and ordered the men to let them through.
Phew thought Armond it was a good job he didn’t look any closer! Their house breaking tools and pens and papers for making copies were hidden underneath it wrapped in oilcloth.
They continued for another hour and were entering the town when they came up on another checkpoint manned by uniformed police this time. Marty went through the same routine and showed their papers which had been marked by the previous two checkpoints. This method of monitoring people’s movements was a core part of the suppression of freedom of movement brought in by the revolution.
Once again, they got through without too much difficulty. The regular practice had enabled Marty to polish his story and his accent. But to his horror the policeman conclude that they would be returning to Wissant in their new boat so cancelled their return authorisation.
They went down in to the town through the gate and found a cheap hotel near the docks. They took just one room as that is what fishermen would do.
Their survey and observation of the office of the Ministry of Marine started the next morning. They took it in turns, in pairs, to watch the building either from a Café across the street or by loitering nearby. No pair was on observation for more than 2 hours and they moved location regularly to avoid being noticed.
They identified the senior officer who was a Captain and decided that it would be good to plot his movements so Matai was tasked with trailing him. That evening they all got together and shared what they had seen. They had a pretty good picture of what went on during the day and what kind of people were visiting the building. Matai discovered that the Captain visited a particular house 4 streets over from the ministry and attended a rather striking courtesan for 2 hours in the middle of the day. After they had eaten their evening meal Marty and Tom went back to the building to see what kind of security they had overnight. They started their observations by sitting at the café and after an hour they moved away as if they were going home, but they circled around and approached the ministry from the rear.
There were alleys running along one side and the rear of the building. Windows were set above head height so Tom made a cup with his hands and boosted Marty up so he could look inside. He could see that the floor level of the room was higher than the pavement so he figured there must be a cellar underneath. The room he looked in was probably a reception room as it had high back chairs around the outside and a couple of armchairs in the middle by a low table. It was lit by several candles. There was a guard sat with his back to the window in one of the armchairs. He had a cloth tied around his neck as a napkin and was chowing down on a selection of bread, cheeses and sausage laid out on the table. He also had a bottle of wine and two glasses.
There was a movement at the door and Marty ducked his head just as a second guard came in. When Marty eased his eyes over the sill he could see that the second guard had settled into the other armchair, had placed his pistol on the table and picked up a glass of wine.
He had seen enough and signalled Tom to lower him down. They would come back and check on the guards in an hour or so. They moved on to several other windows and Marty noted how they were latched, what was on the inside of them, and what the room was used for.
Last they checked the reception room again. This time they could see that all the candles except one had been put out and the two guards were sprawled in the armchairs fast asleep. It was just past 11pm.
Once back at the room he drew out a rough plan of what he had seen and used that to discuss a plan of action with his team. The discussion was held in French so that anyone who casually overheard their voices wouldn’t be alarmed by hearing English. Probably because of his age, he always involved the team in planning and it made the five of them work closer together.
The next day was spent in more observation and resting for they would be up most of the night.
At just after midnight they crept out of the hotel and made their way to the Ministry. Pablo positioned himself in the shadows at the main road end of the Alley that ran up the side of the building so he could keep a lookout on the front of the buil
ding. Matai set himself at the end of the alley behind the building. That left Marty, Armand and Tom to perform the breaking and entering.
Tom boosted Marty up so he could slide a thin piece of springy metal (a slimjim) between the window and the frame and move it upwards to undo the latch. Once he had the window open he quietly climbed inside and was followed by Armand. Tom stayed outside crouched down in the shadow at the base of the wall.
Together they slipped across the room to the door which Armand carefully opened about two inches. They listened. All they could hear was the snoring of the guards in the reception room.
The opened the door and slid out into the hallway and made their way to a staircase. Carefully, like they were walking on eggs, they tested each step in turn before they put their weight on it as a single creak could betray them.
They reached the landing. Marty’s nerves were as taught as springs.
There was a large opulent door ahead of them. They crept up to it and listened.
All quiet.
They tried the handle.
Locked.
Marty got out a set or lockpicks and selected two that he thought would work.
It took him thirty-five seconds to open the lock.
They opened the door. It was the Captains office. Marty took out a small lantern from their bag and lit it with a flint and tinder. There was a large desk with a leather chair behind it. The top was clear of papers.
Armand went behind the desk and tried the drawers.
Locked.
He got out his lockpicks and worked on the locks while Marty held the lantern.
It took him ten seconds to open the first and eight the second. He grinned smugly at Martin who poked out his tongue.
They took out the papers they found inside and examined them sheet by sheet making sure they kept them in the same order.
Armand stopped and held up one of the sheets towards the lantern and said “Mon Dieu!”
“What?” said Marty
“This letter tells that the money to pay the government, army, navy and police for the Nord Calais region will pass through Calais on its way to Boulogne tomorrow and will be stored in the ministry overnight”
“In this building?” said Marty
“Oui, in this building” replied Armand
“Oh my” said Marty with a wistful look on his face “do you think we could . . . . . . “
“Mais oui, c’est possible” whispered Armand.
They copied the letter and returned all the documents to the drawers, then re-locked them.
They left the room, locking the door behind them and then slunk back to the room they entered by. The guards were still snoring.
They opened the window and climbed out, lowering themselves down so they had a small drop to the alley. Then Tom boosted Marty back up and he closed and locked the window.
Chapter 5 Heist the sails
They got back to their room at around three am too excited to sleep. They told the others what they had found and showed them the copy of the letter. The discussion that followed lasted to around five am when they decided that they should at least get a couple of hours sleep.
The next morning Armand and Marty went to the boatyard to find a fishing boat. Tom stayed in the room and the two Basques went out to watch the ministry.
They found a boatyard where there were a number of boats similar to the Ariadne. They engaged the owner in conversation and after some fierce haggling agreed on a price which included a full set of sails. The boat was pulled around to the dock and moored.
They provisioned it as if they were sailing it back to Wissant with water and some food. They didn’t need anything else as all they would be doing was follow the coast.
They also went to a leather shop and bought 5 large leather shoulder bags with good strong stitching.
At one am the five of them were stood together at the door of their room. They were all dressed in black and had black hoods to cover their faces. They looked at each other checking that each man had everything he was supposed to and then Marty nodded and led them out.
They moved quietly each carrying one of the leather bags which were obviously heavy.
As they approached the Ministry they saw a pair of soldiers stood at the main entrance illuminated in a pool of torchlight. This was good! It would be difficult to see anything outside of the pool of light. They were also fortunate that it was cloudy and any moonlight was faint and diffused.
Marty went first. He pulled on his hood to stop any light reflecting on his face, crossed the road well down from the Ministry and, staying close to the wall, made his way up to the alley. He checked it out up to the junction with the alley that ran along the back of the building and seeing no more soldiers and hearing no sounds of patrolling footsteps he waited.
Tom was next and arrived quietly. He gave Marty a boost and they checked the reception room. The guards were in exactly the same position as the night before. Fast asleep.
The others arrived at regular intervals and once they were all together they deployed as they had the night before.
They had decided to enter through the same room and Marty had it open in no time. He shimmied into the room and unwrapped a rope that he had around his waist. Armand soon joined him inside and they hoisted up the bags one at a time. Once inside they crept out to the door and had a quick look up and down the corridor. No one in sight and only the sound of snoring to be heard which would cover any slight noise they made. They crept along the corridor each carrying 2 bags each.
Armand suddenly held up his hand and they stopped. He looked at Marty and pointed to his nose. Marty looked puzzled until the unmistakable aroma of garlic wafted in from ahead.
Armand quietly put down his bags and dropped to the floor. He edged forward until he could see around the corner and then drew back.
He looked at Marty and held up one finger and then mimed sleeping.
He picked up his bags and edged forward and Marty followed. Once they got around the corner they could see a guard propped on a chair fast asleep. More than that there was an empty bottle beside him and a strong smell of brandy underpinning the garlic. He was dead drunk.
Talk about luck!
He was stationed outside of a door and Armand carefully checked the handle.
Locked.
He got out the picks and went to work. Click! The door opened to reveal a cupboard with nothing in it except a chest.
That too was locked but fifteen seconds with the picks had it open. Inside were sacks of coins and some papers. Armand signalled to Marty to go get the fifth bag and he slunk away as silent as a mouse to return less than a minute later.
In the meantime, Armand had been removing bags made of sacking that were full of sand and stitched shut from the leather bags. (That evening if anybody was watching they would have seen 5 men on the beach filling five bags with sacks of sand.) Once he had emptied a bag he started transferring bags of coins into it from the chest. He repeated the process with each bag in turn.
The guard murmured in his sleep and shifted his position. They froze and waited until he settled. Once they were sure he was still fast asleep they carried on. They paused after each chink of coins afraid that they would be discovered. It was very nervous work.
Once the chest was empty Armand then filled it with the bags of sand and relocked it. While he was doing that Marty moved the bags back to their entry window one at a time. They made sure there they left no traces of sand on the floor then closed and relocked the door to the cupboard and carried the last two bags back. Marty put his head out of the window and whistled softly. After what seemed an age Tom appeared below and they started lowering the bags down to him.
They closed and re-latched the window after them and the five quietly left and headed down the alley in the opposite direction they had arrived in.
They got to the end and froze as a patrol of soldiers headed up the street past the end of the alley. Once they had past they slipped away do
wn to the docks. They only saw the odd drunk sleeping one off in doorways or in the filth of the gutter. After 15 minutes they reached the dock and boarded their new boat, stowing the bags under a pile of sail canvas.
Then they pulled off their hoods and just looked at each other for a long moment. Then they rushed forward into a huddle, laughing as quietly as they could and patting each other on the backs.
“WHAT A THRILL!!!” Marty said in a whisper shout. “That was unbelievable!” The others all agreed but then Tom shushed them and bade them calm down as the site of a fishing boat bouncing up and down in the water might attract unwanted attention.
With an effort they got themselves under control and changed into their fishermen’s clothes. They still had to get out of the port and the best time to do that was to leave around dawn with the fishing fleet.
The sun came up at around half past eight that time of year and the fishing fleet started moving a half hour before by rowing their boats out of the harbour. To blend in and be as inconspicuous as possible they cast off at around eight and rowed themselves out into the mass of boats leaving the harbour.
It was tense. They held their breath a couple of times when guard boats passed close by manned by sleepy sailors of the French Navy, but they made it out and as soon as they could they raised sail and headed down the coast south to Wissant.
They had been on French soil for four days.
The trip down the coast didn’t take long and they arrived before midday. They had discussed what they would do with the boat and as it had nothing to distinguish it from any other boat they decided to make a gift of it to their ally who had sheltered them that first night.
The Special Operations Flotilla: The Dorset Boy Book 2 Page 3
