Jackdaws (50 page)

Dieter drew his pistol and thumbed
the safety catch. Michel lay prone for a second, stunned. Then, groggily, he
tried to get to his knees.

Dieter touched the barrel of the gun
to Michel's temple. "Don't get up," he said in French.

The driver got a pair of handcuffs
from the trunk, secured Michel's wrists, and bundled him into the back of the
car.

Hans reappeared, looking dismayed.
"What happened?"

"He went in through the back
door of the Café de la Gare and came out of the front," Dieter explained.

Hans was relieved. "What
now?"

"Come with me to the
station." Dieter turned to the driver. "Do you have a gun?"

"Yes, sir."

"Keep a close watch on this
man. If he tries to escape, shoot him in the legs."

"Yes, sir."

Dieter and Hans walked briskly into
the station. Dieter buttonholed a uniformed railway man and said, "I want
to see the stationmaster right away."

The man looked surly, but he said,
"I'll take you to his office."

The stationmaster was dressed in a
black jacket and waistcoat with striped trousers, an elegant old-fashioned
uniform, worn thin at the elbows and knees. He kept his bowler hat on even in
his office. He was frightened by this visit from a high-powered German.
"What can I do for you?" he said with a nervous smile.

"Are you expecting a train from
Paris with prisoners tonight?"

"Yes, at eight o'clock, as
usual."

"When it comes, hold it here
until you hear from me. I have a special prisoner I want to board."

"Very good. If I could have
written authorization.."

"Of course. I will arrange it.
Do you do anything with the prisoners while the train is here?"

"Sometimes we hose out the
cars. Cattle trucks are used, you see, so there are no lavatory facilities, and
frankly it becomes extremely unpleasant, without wishing to criticize—"

"Do not clean the trucks
tonight, you understand?"

"Of course."

"Do you do anything else?"

The man hesitated. "Not
really."

He was guilty about something,
Dieter could tell. "Come on, man, out with it, I'm not going to punish
you."

"Sometimes the railway men take
pity on the prisoners, and give them water. It's not allowed, strictly
speaking, but—"

"No water will be given
tonight."

"Understood."

Dieter turned to Hans. "I want
you to take Michel Clairet to the police station and lock him in a cell, then
return here to the station and make sure my orders are carried out."

"Of course, Major."

Dieter picked up the phone on the
stationmaster's desk. "Get me the château of Sainte-Cécile." When he
got through he asked for Weber. "There's a woman in the cells called
Gilberte."

"I know," said Weber.
"Pretty girl."

Dieter wondered why Weber sounded so
pleased with himself "Would you please send her in a car to the railway
station in Reims. Lieutenant Hesse is here, he will take charge of her."

"Very well," said Weber.
"Hold the line a moment, will you?" He moved the phone away from his
mouth and spoke to someone in the room, giving orders for Gilberte to be moved.
Dieter waited impatiently. Weber came back on the line. "I've arranged
that."

"Thank you—"

"Don't hang up. I have some
news for you."

This would be why he was sounding
pleased. "Go on," Dieter said.

"I have captured an Allied agent
myself."

"What?" Dieter said. This
was a lucky break. "When?"

"A few minutes ago."

"Where, for God's sake?"

"Right here in
Sainte-Cécile."

"How did that happen?"

"She attacked a Militian, and
three of my bright young people happened to witness it. They had the presence
of mind to capture the culprit, who was armed with a Colt automatic."

"Did you say 'she'? The agent
is a woman?"

"Yes."

That settled it. The Jackdaws were
in Sainte-Cécile. The château was their target.

Dieter said, "Weber, listen to
me. I think she is part of a team of saboteurs intending to attack the
château."

"They tried that before,"
Weber said. "We gave them a hiding."

Dieter controlled his impatience
with an effort. "Indeed you did, so they may be more sly this time. May I
suggest a security alert? Double the guards, search the château, and question
all non-German personnel in the building."

"I have given orders to that
effect."

Dieter was not sure he believed that
Weber had already thought of a security alert, but it did not matter, so long
as he did so now.

Dieter briefly considered rescinding
his instructions about Gilberte and Michel but decided not to. He might well
need to interrogate Michel before the night was over.

"I will return to Sainte-Cécile
immediately," he told Weber.

"As you wish," Weber said
casually, implying he could manage perfectly well without Dieter's assistance.

"I need to interrogate the new
prisoner."

"I have already begun. Sergeant
Becker is softening her up."

"For God's sake! I want her
sane and able to speak."

"Of course."

"Please, Weber, this is too
important for mistakes. I beg you to keep Becker under control until I get
there."

"Very well, Franck. I will make
sure he doesn't overdo it."

"Thank you. I'll be there as
fast as I can." Dieter hung up.

CHAPTER

FIFTY-ONE

FLICK PAUSED AT the entrance to the
great hall of the château. Her pulse was racing and there was a cold sensation
of fear in her chest. She was in the lions' den. If she were captured, nothing
could save her.

She surveyed the room rapidly.
Telephone switchboards had been installed in precise parade-ground rows,
incongruously modern against the faded grandeur of the pink-and-green walls and
the pudgy cherubs painted on the ceiling. Bundled cables twisted across the
checkerboard marble floor like uncoiled ropes on the deck of a ship.

There was a hubbub of chatter from
forty operators. Those nearest glanced at the new arrivals. Flick saw one girl
speak to her neighbor and point to them. The operators were all from Reims and
the surrounding district, many from Sainte-Cécile itself—so they would know
the regular cleaners and would realize the Jackdaws were strangers. But Flick
was gambling that they would say nothing to the Germans.

She oriented herself quickly,
bringing to mind the plan Antoinette had drawn. The bombed west wing, to her
left, was disused. She turned right and led Greta and Jelly through a pair of
tall paneled doors into the east wing.

One room led to another, all
palatial reception rooms full of switchboards and equipment racks that buzzed
and clicked as numbers were dialed. Flick did not know whether the cleaners
normally greeted the operators or passed them in silence: the French were great
people for saying good morning, but this place was run by the German military.
She contented herself with smiling vaguely and avoiding eye contact.

In the third room, a supervisor in
German uniform sat at a desk. Flick ignored her, but the woman called out,
"Where is Antoinette?"

Flick answered without pausing in
her stride. "She's coming." She heard the tremor of fear in her own
voice and hoped the supervisor had not noticed.

The woman glanced up at the clock,
which said five past seven. "You're late."

"Very sorry, Madame, we'll get
started right away." Flick hurried into the next room. For a moment she
listened, heart in her mouth, for an angry shout calling her back, but none
came, and she breathed easier and walked on, with Greta and Jelly close behind.

At the end of the east wing was a
stairwell, leading up to the offices or down to the basement. The Jackdaws were
headed for the basement, eventually, but first they had preparations to make.

They turned left and moved into the
service wing. Following Antoinette's directions, they found a small room where
cleaning materials were stored: mops, buckets, brooms, and garbage bins, plus
the brown cotton overall coats the cleaners had to wear on duty Flick closed
the door.

"So far, so good," said
Jelly.

Greta said, "I'm so
scared!" She was pale and trembling. "I don't think I can go
on."

Flick gave her a reassuring smile.
"You'll be fine," she said. "Let's get on with it. Put your
ordnance into these cleaning buckets."

Jelly began to transfer her
explosives into a bucket, and after a moment's hesitation Greta followed suit.
Flick assembled her submachine gun without its rifle butt, reducing the length
by a foot, to make it easier to conceal. She fitted the noise suppressor and
flicked the switch for single-shot firing. When using the silencer, the chamber
had to be reloaded manually before each shot.

She pushed the weapon under her
leather belt. Then she put on an overall coat. It covered the gun. She left the
buttons undone for quick access. The other two also put on overalls, concealing
the guns and ammunition stuffed into their pockets.

They were almost ready for the
basement. However, it was a high-security area, with a guard at the door, and French
personnel were not allowed down there—the Germans cleaned it themselves. Before
entering, the Jackdaws were going to create a little confusion.

They were about to leave the room
when the door opened and a German officer looked in. "Passes!" he barked.

Flick tensed. She had been expecting
some kind of security alert. The Gestapo must have guessed that Ruby was an
Allied agent—no one else would be carrying an automatic pistol and a lethal
knife—and it made sense for them to take extra precautions at the château.
However, she had hoped that the Gestapo would move too slowly to interfere with
her mission. That wish had not been granted. Probably they were double-checking
all French personnel in the building.

"Quickly!" the man said
impatiently. He was a Gestapo lieutenant, Flick saw from the badge on his
uniform shirt. She took out her pass. He looked at it carefully, comparing the
picture with her face, and handed it back. He did the same with Jelly and
Greta. "I must search you," he said. He looked into Jelly's bucket.

Behind his back, Flick drew the Sten
gun from under her overall.

The officer frowned in puzzlement
and took from Jelly's bucket the shockproof canister.

Flick disengaged the cocking lever
of her gun from the safety slot.

The officer unscrewed the lid of the
canister. Amazement dawned on his face as he saw the detonators.

Flick shot him in the back.

The gun was not really silent—the
noise suppressor was not perfectly effective—and the shot made a soft bang like
a book being dropped on the floor.

The Gestapo lieutenant jerked and
fell.

Flick ejected the cartridge and
pulled back the bolt, then shot him again in the head to make sure of him.

She reloaded the chamber and put the
gun back under her overall.

Jelly dragged the body to the wall
and shoved it behind the door, where it would not be seen by anyone glancing
casually into the room.

"Let's get out of here,"
said Flick.

Jelly went out. Greta stood frozen
and pale, staring at the dead officer.

Flick said, "Greta. We have a
job to do. Let's go."

At last Greta nodded, picked up her
mop and bucket, and walked through the door, moving like a robot.

They went from the cleaning store
into the canteen. It was empty but for two girls in uniform drinking coffee and
smoking. Speaking French in a low voice, Flick said, "You know what you
have to do."

Jelly began to sweep the floor.

Greta hesitated.

Flick said, "Don't let me
down."

Greta nodded. She took a deep
breath, straightened her back, and said, "I'm ready."

Flick entered the kitchen, and Greta
followed. The fuse boxes for the building were in a cupboard off the kitchen,
beside the large electric oven, according to Antoinette. There was a young German man at the kitchen stove.
Flick gave him a sexy smile and said, "What have you got to offer a hungry
girl?"

He grinned at her.

Behind his back, Greta took out a
stout pair of pliers with rubberized handles, then opened the cupboard door.

THE SKY WAS partly cloudy, and the
sun disappeared as Dieter Franck drove into the picturesque square of
Sainte-Cécile. The clouds were the same shade of dark gray as the slate roof of
the church.

He noticed four guards at the
château gate, instead of the usual two. Although he was in a Gestapo car, the
sergeant carefully examined his pass and his driver's before opening the
wrought-iron gates and waving the car in. Dieter was pleased: Weber had taken
seriously the need for extra security.

A cool breeze blew as he walked from
the car to the steps of the grand entrance. Passing into the hall and seeing
the rows of women at their switchboards, he thought about the female secret
agent Weber had arrested. The Jackdaws were an all-woman team. It occurred to
him that they might try to enter the château disguised as telephonists. Was it
possible? As he passed through the east wing he spoke to the German woman
supervisor. "Have any of these women joined in the last few days?"

"No, Major," she said.
"One new girl was taken on three weeks ago, and she was the last."

That put paid to his theory. He
nodded and walked on. At the end of the east wing he took the staircase down.
The door to the basement stood open, as usual, but there were two soldiers
instead of the usual one standing inside. Weber had doubled the guard. The
corporal saluted and the sergeant asked for his pass.

Dieter noticed that the corporal
stood behind the sergeant while the sergeant checked the pass. He said,
"The way you are now, it's too easy for someone to overpower you both.
Corporal, you should stand to the side, and two meters away, so that you have a
clear shot if the sergeant is attacked."