“Are you okay, Alice?” Vera asked, her smile sympathetic.
Alice answered with a simple nod and bit her lower lip.
“You’ll be all right, Alice,” Gordon told her, bravely keeping his real thoughts to himself.
Flying for nine hours—the time being 7:30p.m, the transport plane had reached France, the rendezvous town being Lille. The plane was at low altitude and the Jump Master knew that it was almost time for them to jump. He opened the jump door, ready for their deployment. Standing by the light, he watched for it to change. Alice was petrified. Even with the amount of practice that she had gone through, she still hadn’t gotten used to the fact that she was going to fling herself out of a plane and fall to earth.
“I’ll go first, Alice,” Vera told her.
The red light turned to green. “Go, go, go,” the Jump Master yelled at them.
Vera got up and hurried to the door. She looked back over her shoulder at Alice and smiled, then jumped out, almost in a foetal position, disappearing out of Alice’s sight. Alice was scared. Her eyes huge with fright—her mouth dry. She shook her head, fearing that she would be killed once she left the safety of the plane. Next to jump was Gordon. He didn’t hesitate to throw himself out of the door.
“You’re next, Bennet,” Sergeant Webb informed her.
She drew in a long breath. Looking at him, then the Jump Master, then the open jump door, she knew she couldn’t let them down. She stood up, the wind blew around her, causing her eyes to water up. Her fists clenched at her sides—her nails digging deep into the palms of her hands, she stepped forward and jumped out. The force of the air stream pulled her away from the plane, her heart raced to the point of feeling as though it was going to burst out of her chest. The ground below grew large as she fell closer—the wind velocity pressing her further and further. Three seconds later, the canopy opened and she shot back up into the air, then sailed slower towards the ground. There were lights coming from below, flashes from a torch signalling to land as close to them as possible.
Bracing herself for impact, she went through all of her training in her head, while she held on to the chute lines—controlling her decent. Just as she hit the ground, she bent her knees, then applied the tuck and roll—the force jarring every part of her body. She got to her feet and pulled the lines of her chute in, dragging it until she had it all pulled together, then she removed her parachute pack and stuffed the chute inside, hiding it beneath a growth of foliage surrounded by trees.
Sergeant Webb landed shortly after her and once he had gathered his chute and hidden it, they both went to find the others.
Vera and Gordon were already on route towards them. They were with two others, who had been waiting for their arrival. When one of them spoke, Alice realised that it was George. She hadn’t recognised him dressed as a local. The other person with him was a French woman.
“Ah, Miss. Bennet,” he whispered. “Glad you could join us. This is Josée Casavant, she is a member of the resistance and I am now known as Sébastien Caron.”
Josée nodded. “Vite! We must go, it is not safe.” She pointed them in the direction of the woods, where they were to trek through, as it was their safest option.
Alice, keeping her wits about her, still felt the effects of falling to the ground. Her adrenaline rushed through her—she wanted to scream ‘Oh my god, I can’t believe I just did that,’ but reality preyed close, she knew that they were in occupied territory.
It was dark as they tramped through the dense woodland. An owl hooted—it was the only vocal sound in their vicinity, while they maintained their silence. They were close to the edge of the town and needed to be unseen.
Josée, ahead of them all, crouched down when a clearing between the trees gave her the opportunity to check that the coast was clear. Curfew was at 9 p.m. and being that they had fifteen minutes before they had to be off the streets, they knew that Nazi patrols would be in the area. “Vous serez tranquille!” she told them, holding her hand out and lowering it, to show them to hush and crouch down. “We must not be heard. If we are seen emerging from the trees, we will cast suspicion on ourselves.” She peered through the tree trunks, her pale blue eyes, wide, looking one way and then the other. “Bon, we must go now, vite!”
They followed her out from the woods, each taking turns to check the street behind and around them. There was very little time to get to safety—Josée, knowing this, led them through dark alleyways, until they reached a three-storey terraced building. Checking the street before opening the front door, she ushered them all inside.
George drew the curtains closed. Lighting a candle that had been placed on the table, Josée blew out the match. She made her way to the kitchen—it was small and dimly lit. “You must all be hungry? I have bread and cheese. There is some red wine if you’d prefer that to café?” She carried in a tray with slices of baguette, a small ramekin of butter and a wedge of Camembert cheese and Maroilles cheese. “Please, help yourselves.”
A newspaper—first hand intelligence information written by members of the resistance, lay folded on the table. Alice picked it up and unfolded it. She scanned through it. So many lives had been reported lost, or missing. Sabotage missions against the Axis Forces had been successful.
Three knocks wrapped on the door. Josée motioned everyone to be silent. She cautiously walked over to the door and pressed her ear up against the wood, listening to find out who was on the other side—her dark-brown hair swept back from her face, revealing her high-cheekbones. She held her breath as she waited for the caller to represent themselves.
Three knocks came again.
“Josée, it is Antoine Garceau, let me in.”
Josée turned her head to look at the others. Her curved eyebrows hooded over her eyes, showing her concern for their safety. She opened the door, slowly stepping back to let Antoine in.
Antoine, a man who hadn’t shaved in days, stepped inside the house. Wearing a leather coat, a white scarf wrapped around his neck and tucked inside the collar and lapels and a large beret sloped to one side of his head, he regarded himself as superior to his comrades. He glared at Vera. “Mademoiselle, how did you come to have that scar below your eye?”
Vera cautiously answered him—her voice remained flat. “I was attacked by a traitor. He is dead now.”
George took control of introducing Josée’s guests. “Antoine, this is Veronique, I’ve known her for a number of years and she is completely trustworthy. This is Celeste Alban, she joined us a few months ago.”
“A few months you say? So you hardly know this woman at all?” His hands in his coat pockets, he pulled out a packet of cigarettes and a box of matches. Placing a cigarette between his lips, he struck a match against the side of the box, cupped his hands around the cigarette and lit it—inhaling deeply, he breathed out a puff of smoke. “And who are they?” he asked, nodding in Gordon’s direction.
“Alain Davignon, and Claude Eshete,” George answered immediately.
Antoine glared at each person standing in the room. His eyes narrowed with suspicion. Josée opened a wooden door on the oak dresser behind her and plucked out seven wine glasses, placing them down on the table. Using a corkscrew, Antoine pulled the cork from the bottle, then wafted it beneath his wide nostrils, savouring the fruity aroma. He poured some into each glass, then waved his hand over them, gesturing for everyone to help themselves.
“Eat, you must all be starving by now?” Josée asked.
Everyone sat down around the table and tucked into the bread and cheese.
Antoine ripped apart his piece of bread and shoved it into his mouth. Before he had eaten it, he looked over at Vera, studying her with intense eyes. “You, do you have the fake papers, so I can take them to the men?”
“Yes, I have them in my bag.”
“Good. I shall see to it that they receive them first thing in the morning. Tonight, I shall remain here, as it is now past curfew.”
Alice remained silent and nibb
led on her wedge of cheese, whilst Antoine remained in control of the conversation.
“Do you want them now?” Vera asked him.
“No. I shall take them in the morning. The men have been very brave. When we rescued them from the prison camp, they were half-starved to death. We took them to the safety of a house just on the outskirts of Lille, where we fed and clothed them. They are in pretty good health, considering but the sooner they are out of this country, the better for them. They are in no fit state to fight and we cannot afford to constantly provide for them. Even though we help you, we are risking a lot for our families as well.”
George placed his elbows on the table and clasped his hands together. “Well, I think that we should all get a decent night’s sleep. I’m sure that the four of you must be exhausted after such a long flight?” he said, looking at Alice, Vera, Gordon and Sergeant Todd.
Josée rose from her chair. “Ah, I shall show you to your rooms. Veronique and Celeste, you two can share the room at the front of the house and Claude and Alain, there are beds in the attic, Antoine, you shall sleep down here.”
“And where are you and Sébastien going to sleep?” Antoine questioned her with a tone of jealousy in his voice.
Josée snubbed his comment, instead, choosing to show everyone their rooms.
Chapter Eight
Vera stood by the window, looking down onto the street. Sighting two Nazi soldiers, she veered backwards, away from the curtain. With the lights out, only her silhouette showed to Alice, who had removed her clothing and slipped into bed, wearing just her knickers. Vera moved to the other side of the bed, removing her clothing and folding it into a neat pile, where she placed it on top of the dresser. She climbed into bed, choosing to lay on her back and stare up at the ceiling. It felt awkward to her, sharing the same bed with Alice. They’d only made love once and now this had an air of making it possible to advance to a second time. There was a sense of awkwardness between them both. Both breathing heavy, both staring at the ceiling, both wanting to say something to break the ice.
Alice found herself making unusual facial movements. She scrunched her nose, pursed her mouth, sucked in her lips, it was as though she was trying to find anything to do, apart from talk.
Vera turned over onto her side, to face Alice. Propping her head up with her hand, she let out a long sigh. “You seem to be coping rather well.”
Alice blinked fast. “Yes.”
Vera placed her free hand onto Alice’s shoulder—her thumb gently caressing her silky skin, she lowered her face and pressed her lips on the top of her arm. Her kiss was light and sensual. “You are so beautiful,” she whispered through her breath.
Alice gently ran her fingers along Vera’s shoulder, then up along her neck and over her cheekbones. She rested the tips of her fingers over the scar just below her eye. “Does it hurt when I touch it?”
“No,” Vera whispered back, as she climbed on top of her, resting her legs in between Alice’s thighs.
Alice parted her legs, wrapping them around Vera’s waist. “You have a hypnotic way of making me feel safe.”
Vera placed Alice’s arms above her head on the pillow—her fingertips just touching the oak headboard. Alice closed her eyes—a pleasing smile rippled across her face, as Vera shuffled herself lower, kissing her neck—her shoulders—her breasts.
Alice arched her lower back, as Vera brought herself lower down her body. Kissing her belly—trailing her lips tenderly lower toward her thighs, intensifying Alice’s excitement. Her tongue was like a ‘Great Crescendo’ as she increased the speed and built the pressure. Alice curved her body into a pleasurable twist—her arms splayed over her face—her hands gripping her hair, pulling it taut, as she succumbed to her body’s revelation.
Kissing her inner thighs to-the-tops of her legs, Vera airily touched her lips over Alice’s left hip, breezily making her way along her side, nibbling on the warm flesh around her breast and stroking her tongue over her collar bone, until eventually reaching her mouth. A quick soft kiss preceded a lingering passionate brush of the lips. She pulled away, her hair dangling over Alice’s face as she looked down at her with glassy eyes.
Alice full of awe, swept Vera’s hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ears. “I like it when you touch me.” Moving slowly, she brushed the palm of her hand over her breast, caressing it lightly. “I can feel your heartbeat racing fast in your chest.”
Blinking her eyes owlishly, showing her luminous glow of happiness, her words expressively alluring, she replied, “You scare me.”
Alice, confused, frowned. “But I’ve never done anything to give you reason to be scared.”
A tear escaped from Vera’s eye and trickled down onto Alice’s neck. “You scare me because my heart hurts whenever I’m around you. My stomach turns over, and I don’t know if that’s a good thing, or not. I’m confused and yet I’m happy. I have a high intelligence clearance in the military but I feel as though I know absolutely nothing when it comes to being with you. We are breaking the law and risking our lives and the lives of our team on this mission but I don’t not want to be with you.” She lowered herself, moving in for another kiss…
Their amorous moment was crushed when Josée knocked on their door. “Are you still awake?” she asked quietly—her ear pressed up against the door, while she waited for a response.
Vera moved herself from on top of Alice. Sliding over to her side of the bed, she pulled the sheet up, covering her chest. “Yes, Josée, we are.”
The door opened steadily. Josée took one step inside, stalling when she saw that the two women were extremely flushed in their faces. She immediately cast her eyes downward. In a hushed voice, she said, “Antoine will be leaving in the morning, as soon as curfew is over. You are to leave with him. The rest of us will leave in groups of two, so as not to draw any attention to ourselves.” She stepped back out into the hallway, closing the door quietly behind her. As she made her way to her room, the floorboards creaked, followed by the hinges on her bedroom door squeaking as she opened and closed it.
Alice, propped up on her elbows, stared at the door, hesitant to say anything.
Vera reached over and stroked her arm. “Relax. She’s gone to her room now. I’m sure that she and George have other things on their minds right now.”
She laid back down, plumping the pillow behind her head. “He didn’t waste any time, did he?”
“George has his reasons. Although we are advised not to get involved romantically, sometimes there are incidences where we must, to keep a closer eye on those who may show signs of breaking, or if we’re not one-hundred percent sure that we can trust them.”
Alice turned her head to face Vera. “Is that what you’re doing with me?”
Vera quickly slipped her hand beneath the sheet and grasped Alice’s hand, bringing it up to her mouth, she kissed her fingers. “Definitely not. But we cannot let anyone know that there is anything going on between us. Trust no one, Alice.”
“I rarely do,” she replied. “What about the agent who betrayed you and gave you that scar, did you and he…?”
“No!” she said quickly. “I mean that he did show certain signs, aggressive signs now that I look back on it. He was someone I had looked up to, he trained me and many others, fooling us all. On our last mission, the day before I killed him, he drank himself into a stupor. He was angered by something that had occurred earlier that day. I’m not sure what it was but he made it perfectly clear that it would be in my best interest if I slept with him. I wouldn’t do it. He said something under his breath and to be honest, it took me a while to realise what it was. I had been trying to figure it out, thinking he had muttered something in English, as it was said with his hand over his mouth. But then the following day, when I had planned a rendezvous with a French ally, they said the same thing…‘Va te faire foutre.’ I’m sure you understand why I became suspicious of him.”
“He told you to ‘go fuck yourself,’ I’d say that he d
efinitely had something on his mind.”
“You do know that you were being monitored for quite some time before you were approached to join us? I don’t mean by just one person. We have agents everywhere, watching, spying, and feeding us information. You wouldn’t have been aware of any of it.”
“I’m sure I wasn’t.”
Vera cleared her throat. “I was with someone very special to me at the time of this mission. He knew this and he would have used it against me. Alice, I lived with a woman. I need you to know the truth about me. We were together for a long time before she was killed in a bomb strike. I don’t think that I should hide that from you.”
Turning over onto her side, Alice placed her hand on Vera’s face, cupping it with adoration. “You must have gone through so much pain?”
To hide her discomfort, Vera closed her eyes and nodded.
“We should sleep now. I’m sure that we have a lot to do in the morning.” She kissed the tip of her finger and placed it on Vera’s upper lip.
Vera managed a smile, still hiding her hurt.
•••
Through the small gap between the curtains, the rising sunlight shone into the room, waking up Vera first and then Alice. Sometime during the night, one of them had taken the other’s hand, they woke to find that they were still locked, palm-to-palm.
Vera pulled her hand away from the hold. She knew that she had to maintain professionalism during this mission, as the slightest mishap could jeopardise all of their lives. She brushed her hand over her hair, smoothing down the flyaway strands, then slid out of the bed. Alice sat up, her hands behind her on the mattress, supporting her upper body, while her eyes moved slowly, following Vera as she crossed the room. She peered through the curtains, looking down at the street, and identified that there were three German soldiers in the area.
Alice climbed out of bed and joined her at the window. Her hand placed on Vera’s arm, she rested her cheek on her shoulder. “Do you think they’ll still be out there when we leave?”
Silent Killing Page 8
