by Dan Walsh
Elliot had a point. “But I can’t imagine Philippe is the one who broke.”
“It doesn’t really matter right now who did. The facts are the same. Every hour that goes by, the entire operation there is in danger of being destroyed. The rest of the team have already gone into hiding. As it turns out, one of the two men captured with Philippe is a key leader in that cell. If he breaks, or when he breaks, he will give up every name of every person connected to the operation. He even knows about some of the other groups forming in other areas. We can’t let that happen. He has to be stopped as soon as possible.”
“What are you suggesting? How do you plan to stop him from saying too much?”
“A bombing mission has already been scheduled. Tonight, Renée’s home will be annihilated.”
“You’re gonna kill them? Kill everyone inside? What about Philippe and Renée?”
“That’s where you and Joe come in. They were going to bomb the house as soon as it got dark. I was able to get them to delay it by two hours. That’s our window, Jack. Two hours. After that, her home will be obliterated along with everyone else inside.”
“So, Joe and I will fly across the Channel at wave top-level to avoid radar, land somewhere not too far from the property, somehow break in and rescue Renée and Philippe, get them back to the plane, and head back here before the bombers come. That about right?”
Elliot nodded. “I know. Sounds impossible.”
Sounds like a suicide mission, Jack thought.
“The only help I can give you is with the landing near Renee’s manor home. The resistance team indicated they know of a large field about a mile north of there. It’s an old deserted farm with plenty of woods between the field and the house. They said if we give them a time, they will have someone there to mark the field with some lights to help you find it. It won’t be anything like a runway, but it—”
“That’ll be enough. We’ll make it work.”
“You’re saying we. Are you sure Joe’s up for this? I’ve got to know before I leave.”
“Pretty sure, but wait here. Let me go talk to him right now.” Jack ran back to the hangar, called out for Joe as soon as he reached the doorway. Joe ran over and Jack led him about fifty yards away. He quickly explained everything Elliot told him.
“Say no more, Jack. Of course I’ll go with you. When do we leave?”
“I’m not sure. Let’s go see Elliot.” They trotted over to Elliot. “Joe’s on board. What’s the next step?”
“I’d like to take you back with me now, if that’s possible. Let me go square things with your CO.”
“Not necessary,” Joe said. “Jack and I are already on a week’s leave. Sounds like we’ll be back way before then.”
“If things go according to plan,” Elliot said, “You’ll be back here in England tonight. How about I drive you guys around, so you can gather up your gear?”
“That’ll save a few minutes,” Jack said. “Where’s your car?”
“Just on the other side of the hangar. Follow me.”
53
The last ten hours had been a blur for Jack. So many things had transpired in such a short time. He and Joe had had flown their plane across the Channel about twenty minutes ago, flying just above the waves and treetops to avoid radar detection. The ground below them now, every square foot, was Nazi occupied territory.
With the help of British intelligence, they had mapped out a route that would come in just south of Calais and zigzag southward to avoid Nazi airfields and populated areas. The plane they flew in was a stubby little thing called the Stinson Reliant. Joe liked the fact that he and Jack were sitting side-by-side, but that’s about all this plane had going for it. After flying Hurricanes and Spitfires it was hard flying at half the speed of their fighters, even at full throttle. The Reliant was small and felt small, but it could hold up to five people, and that was the main thing.
“In about thirty seconds, bank left and head due west.” Jack held the map out, aided by a small flashlight which the British called a torch. They had decided Joe would be the pilot and Jack the navigator. “If we’re on track, the field we’re supposed to land in should be coming up in about ten minutes.”
“If not?” Joe said.
“Then we’ll have to improvise. But I think we got it.”
“I can see the ground surprisingly well for being so dark,” Joe said.
“It’s that half-moon. But I think we’re okay. People looking up won’t see us as well against the night sky. Besides, Luftwaffe and German transport planes have been flying all over this area the past few months. So, hearing one plane engine shouldn’t rattle anyone’s cage. You can probably fly a little higher now, too. Doesn’t matter if anybody sees us on radar now.”
The plane started to climb slightly. “I’ll just get up to a height that’ll make it easier to land.” After leveling off, Joe said, “It’s pretty crazy what we’re doing, don’t you think?”
“I do, and I really appreciate you doing this with me.”
“You’re welcome, but did you really think I’d let you go on an adventure like this by yourself?”
They flew on for a minute or two in silence.
“It’s going to be strange,” Joe said.
“What is?”
“Killing Nazis up close. I know we’ve been doing that all along in our planes, but we’re always so far away. When that commando guy was teaching us this afternoon how to silent-kill guards with a knife, I gotta tell you, I’m not sure I can do that.”
“I was thinking the same thing. But these are really evil people, Joe. These same guys have been killing civilians right and left for almost no reason at all.”
“I know, but still.”
Jack pulled out his Welrod pistol with a suppressor screwed on the end. They’d each been issued one with several clips. “Just use this. Use the knife as a last resort. It makes a little bit of noise, but with this silencer on the end, I think we should be fine. Besides, we’re not hanging around until trouble comes. You heard the guy. Get in and get out.” The plan was, Joe would focus on taking out the opposition while Jack focused on rescuing Renée and Philippe.
Twelve minutes later, Jack saw a pair of lights down below, spread about fifty yards apart at the far end of a large field. “That’s gotta be our guys. See them, Joe?”
“I see ‘em.”
“Remember the plan?”
“Fly past them, circle around and land in between them.”
“While you do that, I’ll get the backpacks ready so we can just hop out as soon as the plane stops.” In addition to the pistols they were issued two Sten guns with several clips each.
Although the field was bumpier than they were used to, Joe landed the plane without a hitch. Seconds later, they were out and running toward the edge of the woods. The lights went out. The two Frenchmen greeted them warmly and directed them down a narrow opening through the trees.
A moment later, Jack and Joe were startled when six others emerged from behind trees. The two Frenchmen with them were not alarmed.
“They are with us,” one of them said in broken English. “They are here to guard the plane till you return.”
“Well, might as well put them to work,” Joe said. “Tell them we come bearing gifts. They’ll find four crates filled with goodies.”
“Goodies?” the Frenchman said.
“Guns, ammo, radios,” Jack said.
The man smiled, passed the word on to the others and their faces all lit up.
“I think they like us now,” Joe whispered to Jack.
“We better get moving,” Jack said to the man. “How far to the house?”
“Not far. Maybe fifteen or twenty minutes through the woods. That is, if we move fast. There will not be a path so stay right behind me. I have practiced this run twice. I will get you there safely.”
“You’re not going to help us once we get there?”
“Do you need my help?”
“Maybe,” Jo
e said.
“The main reason we need you,” Jack said, “is taking care of your two men who were captured. That’s if they’re still alive. We only have room on the plane to take Renée and Philippe. You need to take responsibility for the others.”
“Then that’s what we’ll do, Monsieur. Come, we must go now.”
Jack looked at his watch. “One more thing, we should have plenty of time before they come, but you need to know the house is going to be bombed.”
“The big house?”
“Yes, the one you’re taking us to. They shouldn’t get here for another forty minutes. But tell your men, if they hear planes in the sky, lots of planes, stop whatever they’re doing and get as far away from the house as they can.”
54
As promised, Jack, Joe and their guide arrived just inside the woods behind Renee’s manor home. It was much larger than Jack had imagined but about half the size of Elliot’s place.
“We will circle around the woods to the right,” the Frenchman said. “They are being kept in the west wing basement. There is an entrance in the back. We’ve seen two guards posted. At that entrance and the other entrance on the side. I’ve never been inside myself, but I can tell you it is not an open area. One of our members is a childhood friend of Philippe. He says years ago Philippe’s father sectioned off the basement into several rooms with a long hallway running through the middle. We have no idea what rooms they are in, or how many more Germans are down there guarding them. I will take you around to the back and wait there till you return. How much time will you need?”
“I don’t know,” Jack said. “Ten minutes? I don’t know.”
“Get in, get out,” Joe added.
“Very well. Let’s go.” The three men continued their trek through the woods.
In a few moments, the Frenchman stopped then continued walking again but very slowly. He stopped again and crouched down, so Jack and Joe did the same. He motioned to them with hand signals, pointing through the woods toward the house.
Jack looked and saw an armed guard standing by a dimly lit stairwell that descended down. He understood from the hand signals that the other guard was stationed around the corner on the right. Both men nodded and continued through the woods just until they were safely out of the range of the dim light.
“I’ll take this one,” Jack whispered. “As soon as he falls, hurry to the corner and get the guard on the side.” Joe nodded.
Still crouching, the men walked through the shadows to the back wall. The guard still hadn’t seen them. In fact, he was looking the other way. Jack decided to take the shot from here. It was pretty quiet but definitely not silent. The guard instantly dropped. They both hurried to where he lay. Joe continued on to the end of the house where he was suddenly met by the other guard, who’d left his post to check out the noise.
Without hesitation, Joe shot him in the heart. He fell to the ground. He dragged the man across the short grassy area into the woods. Jack realized that might be a good idea and, after removing the man’s keys, did the same. They met back at the stairwell.
“So far, so good,” Jack said. He walked silently down the stairs, figured out which key unlocked the door then opened it.
Two things happened at the same time. They heard loud shouting and painful screams coming down a long hallway, and observed another German guard standing halfway down the hall. He turned around and saw them, shock on his face. He reached for his weapon and was instantly shot twice in the chest by both Jack and Joe. Their bullets hit the man one inch apart.
Neither of them worried about the slight sound made from the gunshots. It was completely swallowed up by the screams at the end of the hall. Jack quickly took stock of the situation. There were four metal doors on each side of the hallway. The Germans must have put them there, because they looked like jail doors with heavy bolts attached on the outside and a sliding metal window set about five feet from the floor.
“You keep your eye on that open door at the end of the hall,” Jack said. “I’ll see if I can find Renée and Philippe.” Jack hoped the man screaming in agony was not Renée’s brother.
Renée sat scrunched up in the corner on a thin mattress, holding her ears, trying to block out the sounds coming down the hall. No matter how hard she pressed her hands, she still heard some of the horrible things the Nazi butchers were shouting, the thuds being made by fists and sticks, and the terrible screams coming from whoever they were interrogating.
She prayed it wasn’t Philippe, but then how could she take any comfort if he’d been spared? The other two men were her countrymen and Philippe’s friends. She had heard talk about what the Nazis do to people when they want to extract information, and now she was hearing it for herself.
If they hadn’t started torturing Philippe, they would start soon. And how much longer before they turned on her? She remembered the hateful glare in the Colonel’s eyes last night. She hadn’t seen him all day but had no reason to expect he would show any mercy.
Suddenly, a new sound in the hallway. Someone was sliding the little metal doors over. Were they finally bringing dinner? It didn’t matter. She had no appetite.
She looked up. No, it couldn’t be. “Jack?” It was his face. She was sure of it now.
He raised his finger to his lips. “Don’t say a word,” he whispered. Joe and I are here. Be ready to leave any second.”
Renée leapt to her feet and ran to the door, tears streaming down her face. “Jack, I can’t believe it’s you.” She reached for him through the opening.
He gently grabbed her fingers and kissed them. “I have to go. Are you hurt at all?” She shook her head no. “Be ready to run out of here in a few seconds.”
He was so glad they hadn’t hurt her yet, but he didn’t have the heart to tell her what they had done to Philippe. He was locked in the room next to hers. Clearly, he had been severely beaten. Bruises all over his face, his lips split. One eye swollen shut. Jack knew he was still alive. He had moved slightly when the little door slid over, but he didn’t even look up.
“You ready to do this?” Joe said, his pistol held at the ready.
“Let’s end this,” Jack said, referring to the horror going on through the open door.
The sound of a whip striking someone’s back. A shrieking scream. A man shouted out some vicious-sounding things in French with a German accent. Another crack of the whip. Another scream.
Joe walked through the doorway first, his pistol leveled in front of him. Jack was right behind. “Hey Fritz,” Joe yelled.
There were two Germans in the room, an officer seated in the corner like an observer and a massive soldier with rolled up sleeves, holding a whip. The Frenchman was facing the wall tied to a post, his back a bleeding mess. The Germans turned to look at the intruders.
“Englanders!” The officer screamed as he stood.
“No, Americans,” Jack yelled and shot the man between the eyes as he reached for his sidearm.
The big German was unarmed except for the whip, which he raised as if to strike Jack and Joe. His face filled with hatred.
“Here you go,” Joe said and shot the man twice, hitting his knees.
The man screamed in pain and dropped the weapon as he fell to the ground grabbing his legs.
“How many bullets I got in this thing?” Joe asked Jack.
“Five bullets a clip.”
“Okay Fritz, here’s two more.” Joe shot him in both shoulders. The bullets sent the man flying backwards against the wall. “How’s that feel?” Joe walked right up to him. “Hurts, doesn’t it? You shouldn’t hurt people, Fritz. Don’t you know the golden rule? I only wish I had more time so you could feel some more of the pain you dish out on others. But we gotta go.” He raised the gun and shot the German between the eyes.
While this was going on, Jack cut the Frenchman loose. He almost fell to the floor, but he was conscious. His face was all beat up, but he kept repeating, Merci, over and over as Jack helped him out the door.
55
Once in the hallway, Jack headed straight for the room where the younger Frenchman was kept. When he opened the door, the young man was standing right there.
“I can speak English, a little. My name is Pierre. I have heard what you were saying. You are here to take us away, no?”
“We are, but we need your help. Your friend over there is very weak. I need you to help him walk, so my friend can have his hands free for his gun.”
“I can do this.” Immediately, he walked over and took his friend from Joe.
“So you weren’t hurt?” Joe asked.
“No, my turn was next,” he said.
Jack hurried down to Renee’s room and opened her door. She was standing a few steps inside. Before she could come out, he rushed in and embraced her. Then he gently held her head in his hands and kissed her passionately on the lips for several seconds. “That’s my reply to your letter,” he said.
Her tears gave way to a smile.
“Renée, I have to warn you. Philippe is in bad shape. You need to be ready for this. And I might need your help to get him out of here. We have to move as quickly as we can.”
“Okay, I will tell him. And of course I will help any way I can. He speaks a little English. Not as well as I, but I will ask him to use English whenever he can, so you and Joe can understand.”
