Death Ray

by Craig Simpson

  The soup, full of hearty chunks of meat, tasted wonderful. No sooner had we begun tucking in, than Hélené and Henri exchanged words. Hélené then set about throwing on her coat and scarf. In broken English she informed us, ‘I go fetch Pierre Truffaut. He will know what to do and how to contact the others. I’ll be gone an hour. I’ll get him to bring you some new clothes. You can’t stay dressed like that.’

  She disappeared and we waited in silence. Henri Blanc didn’t move from his chair, and never took his eyes off us.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Friends Reunited

  WHEN HÉLENÉ REAPPEARED with Pierre on her heels, I sensed all was not well. Pierre studied us suspiciously and asked question after question about the drop that only those involved could have answered correctly. Even so, he didn’t relax. I suppose he didn’t recognize us from the rendezvous despite the fact we’d been standing on the Heinkel’s float, just feet from him. When I first set eyes on him in his rowing boat, he’d struck me as a tough young man. Now, in the lamplight, I saw a sharpness in his face too, the look of someone used to living with danger, used to relying on their wits. I could see he was extremely bright and quick thinking. Like Henri, he was being careful. We tried asking a lot of questions such as whether the others were safe, where they were hiding out, when could we get to meet up with them? All were ignored. He wasn’t going to tell us anything. He threw over a bag containing some hastily gathered old clothes. As we sorted through them and began changing, I remembered that it was Pierre’s father who Jacques had expected to meet at the drop. Henri Blanc had come instead only because Monsieur Truffaut had been arrested by the SS. ‘Any news about your father?’ I asked.

  Pierre moved to the window overlooking the street below and cautiously peered through a narrow gap between the curtains. ‘He’s dead,’ he declared coldly, in a startlingly matter-of-fact way.

  I felt awful for asking. ‘I’m sorry. How …?’

  Pierre turned and looked at me. ‘The Gestapo tortured him and when they’d finished they took him into the woods to the east of Rochefort and put a bullet in his head.’

  Hélené added, ‘We only found out this morning.’

  ‘Do you think he talked?’ Loki asked, somewhat hesitantly.

  Pierre glared at him. ‘Probably. Wouldn’t you if they tore your fingernails out one by one?’

  I gulped. The room fell silent. Then Hélené sighed and said, ‘Well someone’s been talking. Over the last month so many partisans have been rounded up. We have to be twice as careful as before.’

  ‘We trust no one,’ Pierre snapped. He peered across at my left leg. ‘How is your ankle? Is it broken?’

  ‘I don’t think so. Probably just twisted.’

  ‘Good. I will need to get papers made for you. They will take a few days. Without them you cannot go anywhere. You must stay here. Rest that ankle. I will talk to Jacques. He is in charge now. When it is safe for you to be moved, I’ll return.’ He turned to go. ‘Oh, and Hélené, tell your father not to worry. I’ll have someone move that motorcycle and sidecar. We’ll hide it. It may come in useful.’

  For four days we hid out in the dusty attic above Monsieur Blanc’s shop. In the event of a raid, we were instructed to make our escape onto the roof via a tiny skylight. Once outside we’d be on our own. Neither of us fancied our chances. My swollen ankle slowly improved and after two days I found I could put my weight on it. After four, it didn’t hurt much at all.

  Hélené brought us food and water three times a day but never any news. Idling away the time, we had a growing sense we were an unwanted burden on people who already had enough problems of their own. But despite the fact that our discovery by the Germans would be a death sentence for Henri Blanc and Hélené, they did not complain, at least not openly. I think they accepted the risks of harbouring us simply as being their patriotic duty. Thank God for people like the Blancs!

  Pierre returned on the fifth evening, Amélie accompanying him. It was terrific to see a familiar face and we hugged and kissed in that peculiarly French way, while all trying to talk at once. Amélie was struggling for the right English words, Loki and I jabbering too quickly for her to understand properly. Eventually we overcame our excitement and Loki insisted on knowing how Freya was before we dealt with anything else.

  ‘She is OK,’ Amélie assured him. ‘She can’t wait to see you. Like the rest of us, she couldn’t believe you stayed behind.’

  ‘Well, I was hardly going to abandon her, was I?’ Loki replied.

  Amélie squeezed his arm and smiled. ‘Non.’ I detected an anxiety about her that set me on edge, especially when her smile quickly faded. ‘We’ve been tipped off that the centre of town may be searched tonight. You have to be moved. At once.’

  ‘Unfortunately your papers aren’t ready yet,’ Pierre added apologetically. ‘Jacques said there was a delay. So, if you get stopped there’ll be nothing we can do for you. Do you understand?’

  ‘Yes, but wouldn’t it be safer to be dressed as German soldiers again?’ said Loki. ‘We could pretend to be taking you somewhere, even under arrest if necessary.’

  Pierre shrugged. ‘If you wish. I have to meet up with my brothers this evening so Amélie will take you to our new safe house. It’s across town, on the road towards the Château Rochefort. Good luck.’ He nodded to Amélie, shook our hands and slipped out of the door into the night.

  As we hastily changed back into the Nazi uniforms, Hélené went to fetch a suitable bag for us to carry our other clothes and gear in. Our emergency-supplies bag taken from the Heinkel was looking rather the worse for wear and might draw attention. I instructed Hélené to burn it.

  ‘So Pierre has brothers,’ I observed while buttoning my tunic.

  ‘Oui, Finn,’ said Amélie. ‘Three of them. Pierre is the youngest. Their father owned a farm just a few miles outside Rochefort. Now the farm belongs to them and their mother. Monsieur Truffaut also led the largest of the local Resistance groups until his arrest. After a lot of arguing everyone’s agreed that Jacques can take over. Pierre wanted his eldest brother, Alain, to be in charge, but Alain said it was better that Jacques was, especially as he has authority from London.’ She looked troubled.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ I asked.

  ‘I am worried,’ she confessed. ‘The SS have caught twelve partisans in the last week alone. It will make our job much harder. We need many partisans for Operation Death Ray, to create a big enough diversion. Jacques is trying to persuade the communists to join us. They are trouble but we need them. So far Jacques has had little success. Yesterday he ordered Odette to radio London and tell them that maybe the operation should be delayed until we regroup.’

  ‘And?’ asked Loki.

  ‘We’re still waiting for a reply.’

  ‘Any idea who’s talking?’

  She shook her head. ‘Jacques told me he’s given clear instructions to everyone that they must not carry out any acts of sabotage or raids or do anything to upset the Germans until after Operation Death Ray. That may help prevent anyone else being caught. The last thing we need is for the town to be on high alert. He told me that at least everyone’s agreed to that, even the communists. So fingers crossed.’

  We thanked Hélené and Henri Blanc profusely for all they’d done. Their smiles, firm embraces and handshakes told me they were both mighty glad to see the back of us. They’d breathe more easily and sleep better from now on. Amélie led us across town.

  ‘Have you been home to see your mother?’ I asked.

  ‘Non, Finn. Jacques went one evening but said it was too dangerous to return. He said Mother was sure the Germans were keeping an eye on her.’

  ‘Why? Is she involved with the Resistance too?’ asked Loki.

  Amélie laughed. ‘Maman! Non. She is, how we say, faible, erm, frail, fragile. I think it is because of Father’s important work in Berlin.’ She paused and looked around. ‘Ah, bon! We’re almost there.’

  The safe house was suitably
unremarkable, situated midway along a street of identical detached villas. The front garden was overgrown with weeds and the windows were shuttered. Many houses looked similarly neglected, as if abandoned months ago. Amélie explained that ever since her country was overrun by the Nazis, and the French army had surrendered, tens of thousands of soldiers were being held as prisoners of war. Many other men and women had been shipped off to work in German factories too. And then there were the stories she’d heard of whole Jewish communities being rounded up and shipped off to labour camps in the east. It left streets half empty. We crept round to the back of the house and Amélie gave the signal – three heavy taps on the shabby wooden door, followed by two light ones and finally one thunderous one. Max, clutching a pistol, appeared and ushered us in. Grinning with delight, he slapped me heartily on the back. ‘It’s good to see you. Thank the Lord you made it safely. Believe me, the way things are looking, we need all the help we can get.’

  He led us down a cramped set of stairs into a dimly lit basement that smelled of damp earth. Streaks of green mould decorated the walls. The place was a pigsty. An old tea chest served as a table and upturned crates as chairs. Straw and blankets were scattered round for sleeping on and there were piles of clothes and weapons strewn everywhere.

  ‘Freya!’ Loki ran and hugged her tightly.

  ‘Odette! I’m Odette,’ she replied, throwing her arms round him.

  It was a joy to behold. I’d not seen them both looking so happy in ages. Finally, once they could be prised apart, I gave ‘Odette’ a hug too. Jacques, we were informed, had gone off for yet more clandestine meetings, trying to organize what was left of the fragmented group of local partisans into something resembling a fighting unit. He wouldn’t return until the following day. Loki and I settled down and told our story before listening to what had happened to the others after the drop.

  ‘An old baker’s van was waiting for us on the road close to the river,’ said Freya. ‘We drove south, away from Rochefort, and then doubled back by train and on foot.’

  ‘You were lucky, extremely lucky,’ I noted. ‘Had you hung around a few more minutes, I doubt you would have got away. Do you think Fritz knew we were coming?’

  ‘Jacques says non,’ Amélie replied, ‘but I am not so sure. Why, what’s the matter, Finn?’

  I glanced to Loki and saw him peering at me expectantly. I explained what Nils had confided in me, and that we’d heard a Luftwaffe pilot refer to a ‘Freya discovery’ during our flight. Everybody frowned. Nobody could make sense of it.

  ‘By the way, I informed London that you’d made contact with the Resistance and were safe,’ said Freya. ‘They were extremely relieved.’ She brewed some fresh coffee on a small stove, handing me a piping-hot mug. It was real coffee, not the horrid chicory substitute used back in Britain.

  Max, or should I say ‘Luc’, was keen to fill us in on the latest plans for Operation Death Ray. Removing some loose bricks from the cellar’s wall, he seized a hidden map and spread it out on the upturned tea chest. It was extremely detailed, and many notes, lines, circles and arrows had been added to it by hand. ‘As you weren’t at the final briefings at Mulberry House, I suppose you don’t know all the details about Operation Death Ray. I’ll fill you in.’

  Loki and I crowded round.

  ‘Although the cliffs are tall, there is a gully,’ he began, pointing out exactly where the break in the cliffs was located. ‘The original plan was for our engineers to arrive by boat, move up the gully, unbolt the radar equipment and then carry it back down the same way. Thankfully, the narrow beach at the base of the cliffs hasn’t been mined because it almost disappears at high tide. Unfortunately the plans have changed.’

  ‘Changed?’ I asked.

  ‘Yes, Finn. We’ve just heard from London. Now their latest crackpot scheme is to send in paratroopers. They’ll land on the south side of the château and fight their way north to the cliff edge and the radar site, dismantle the equipment, then carry it down to the beach to waiting boats.’

  Loki looked up. ‘Why the change?’

  ‘Simple,’ Max replied. ‘A few machine guns on the top of the cliff could stop even a decent-sized force climbing up the gully. They might even prevent the boats from reaching the shore in the first place. Best if they’re taken out by a ground force. Then the boats can approach safely for the pick-up.’

  It made sense. ‘So that’s the radar site, is it?’ I asked, pointing to a cluster of shapes marked in pencil very close to the edge of the cliffs.

  ‘Yes. And close by are the laboratories the Moutons built before the war. The château is several hundred yards away. It’s approached from the road between Rochefort and Le Havre via a mile-long private drive. There’s dense woodland on both sides. The SS and Gestapo are using the château as their HQ. Typisch! They always commandeer the best places.’ His finger danced about the map, pointing to another feature. ‘See those? They are the barracks.’

  ‘How many men?’ I asked.

  ‘Close to two hundred, Finn. And then there’s probably another forty or so responsible for operating the radar equipment.’

  I balked and nearly choked on my drink. ‘Two hundred? That’s a small army.’

  ‘Exactly! That’s why the diversion we’re responsible for setting up is so important,’ Max continued. ‘We must get as many soldiers away from there as possible. And keep them busy while the paratroopers drop in. If we fail, it will be a slaughter.’

  ‘Has Jacques decided on what sort of diversion?’

  ‘Oui!’ Amélie answered. ‘Erm, how you say, sabotage un train des équipages.’

  I was a little unsure exactly what she meant but understood the words ‘sabotage’ and ‘train’!

  ‘There’s a regular supply train once a week,’ said Max, pointing to the snaking railway line. ‘About six miles from Rochefort in the direction of Le Havre, the railway passes close to a fuel depot. That’s where we’ll strike for maximum effect. London’s approved the plan. Fritz will need every man he can get to sort out the mayhem we’ve got in store for him.’

  As I blew the steam from the top of my mug, it dawned on me that Operation Death Ray was one hell of a challenge. There was an awful lot that could go wrong. Timing seemed critical. Then I recalled that Amélie had said Jacques wanted the whole thing delayed. I was beginning to understand why. ‘This is all assuming the raid goes ahead,’ I commented. Max looked up at me and frowned.

  ‘I told them Jacques wants the raid retardé,’ Amélie confessed.

  Loki was peering at the map over my shoulder. ‘It’s a tough task. I mean, for our engineers to get in and out within an hour or two of parachuting in. Rather them than me.’

  ‘How are the preparations for our diversion going?’ I asked, despite guessing that with all the recent arrests it was an uphill struggle.

  ‘We have everything planned,’ said Max, inhaling sharply. ‘Naturally, the fuel depot is heavily guarded. The only way we’ll get in is dressed as soldiers.’ He reached for one of the bags brought from Mulberry House. From it he took one of the German uniforms I’d seen delivered to the house the night we arrived. ‘We’re going to split into two groups. I will lead the team entering the depot. Our task is to set charges beside the fuel tanks. Jacques will deal with sabotaging the railway line. The idea is to blow the tracks as the train reaches the depot, derailing it. If we get our timing right, everything will happen at once. It’ll be chaos.’

  Freya added, ‘Our biggest problem is convincing enough volunteers to take part. The communists will only join us if we promise to organize a series of supply drops for them by the RAF. Their list of demands is as long as my arm. Jacques is trying to negotiate.’

  Loki laughed. ‘He could promise them the world! Just to get them on board.’

  Amélie cursed. ‘Yes, but if we don’t keep our promises, they’ll be trouble. Fighting the Nazis is hard enough. We don’t want the communists against us too.’

  ‘What about your R
esistance group? How many are left?’ I asked.

  Amélie looked away and shuddered. Freya replied, ‘Barely a dozen, Finn. And most of them aren’t too keen to act until things quieten down.’

  ‘So it may be down to us then,’ I said grimly.

  Freya searched through a bag and handed me some printed leaflets. They were in French, so I struggled to make them out totally, but they looked like advertisements asking for volunteers to work at the local hospital. ‘Jacques has asked us to deliver these tomorrow,’ she said. Seeing my confused look, she grinned. ‘They appear innocent enough, so if Fritz gets hold of one he won’t be suspicious. But they’re much more than they seem, Finn. There’s a hidden message. You need to read every fifth word, working backwards from the end of the leaflet. It’s a call to arms. We’re targeting a few families who have helped Jacques out in the past. He believes that with a little persuading, they might …’

  I handed them back. ‘Bit of a long shot, if you ask me.’

  ‘Perhaps, but we have to try. I’m distributing them tomorrow morning,’ said Amélie. ‘I wouldn’t mind some help.’ She looked at me expectantly. ‘I have some shopping to do as well.’

  I shrugged. ‘Happy to help. Better than sitting around in this place all day.’

  ‘And I have to contact London at midday,’ Freya said. ‘I’m going to use another safe house close to Rochefort’s station to transmit from. Jacques is meeting me there. Loki, you and Luc can come with me. Keep a lookout from the end of the street. I’d feel safer.’

  With tomorrow planned, we relaxed and set about eating our meagre rations of watery stew that tasted as if it had been reheated one time too many, accompanied by stale bread. ‘You know, I was shocked to see Renard and Véronique the other day, here in Rochefort,’ I said, idly thinking aloud.