"I was so confused, Billy," she said, tears streaking her face. "I didn't know if I was dreaming or if what happened to me was real. I'm not even sure if this is real."
She began to back away from me. As the gap between us widened, fear flooded me. I could feel the blood pumping in my head. I took one step closer and she retreated a step.
"Diana…" I implored her.
"He kept giving me drugs and everything seemed so pleasant and peaceful and then it didn't. I dreamed awful things. I think I dreamed you were walking through fire. Or did that really happen? It couldn't have, could it? I mean, here you are."
I held out my hand, trying to keep it from shaking.
"Stop, Diana, just stop. We'll find the others, and free them, I promise."
"Yes. Find them, Billy. Save them."
Her hand holding the pistol rose, slowly. I could only watch it, carried upward by that strong and graceful arm, in an arc I knew would end in oblivion. I tried to move, to launch myself across the distance separating us, but I knew there wasn't enough time to reach her. I kept my eyes on hers, willing her to stay with me. But there was nothing to lock onto. Her eyes looked right through me to some other place, somewhere else she wanted to go to.
I didn't see Harry dash toward her until he tackled her and they both fell onto the sand. There was a melee as they struggled for possession of the gun. He pushed it away from her, down onto the ground. Diana was thrashing and kicking and screaming. I ran and picked up the pistol before she could seize it again.
"Get him off me! Get him off!" she screamed.
Harry rolled to the side, holding his wounded leg with both hands.
"Get off!" she screamed again, pushing at the air with her hands. I flung the pistol away and knelt at her side, trying to take one of her flailing hands in mine.
"Get him off me, please," she cried. She drew her knees up to her chest, went limp and covered her face with her hands. I cradled her so her face wouldn't rest on the sand.
"It's okay, it's okay now. I'm really here. And I will find them. It'll be all right, everything will be okay," I said, lying over and over again, in my gentlest voice.
Chapter Twenty-six
Diana was quiet as we got her into the jeep. Rodney knew shock when he saw it and covered her with a thick woolen blanket from the rear of the vehicle.
"There you go, miss," he cooed to her. "You sit tight. We're here now."
He sat with her in the back seat, tucking the blanket in around her and urging her to sip from his canteen. She still had a faraway look in her eyes, but at least she was quiet. I stood at the side of the jeep. When I put my hand on her shoulder she didn't flinch.
"I'll be right back, Diana," I said. "Rodney and Harry will take good care of you. I won't be long." I waited until she met my eyes.
"Billy?"
"I'll be right back," I repeated. "Okay? Rodney's right here, he'll stay with you."
She nodded.
"We'll be all right, Lieutenant," Rodney said with a cheerful voice that didn't match his expression. "You go on and… take care of things."
Harry limped up to the Jeep and leaned against it. The bandage around his leg was soaked with blood.
"Thank you, Harry." It seemed so little to say, but I couldn't think of anything else. I put my hand on his shoulder and squeezed. He placed his hand over mine. I thought he intended to push mine away, but he kept it there.
"I guessed what she intended to do," he said.
"How? I didn't, until too late."
He shrugged, and looked down at the ground. "I realized as soon as she stepped into the daylight. It was the way she held the gun, pacing back and forth, like an animal in a cage, realizing there was no way out."
"Except…"
"Yes," Harry said, "except for that. The quick way out." A flush of shame reddened his face. I realized why he'd been able to interpret the signs so easily, but this wasn't the time or place.
"I'll just be a few minutes. You all right?"
"I'll be fine. It's just a through and through, right?"
"Sure, pal."
On my way back to the barracks I picked up Mathenet's revolver from the ground, blew the sand from it, and wiped it on my pants leg as I entered the barracks. It was a relief to have the sun off my back as I hit the shade. I stood in the corridor, catching my breath and letting the sweat drip off my face. It wasn't exactly cool inside, but it was cooler. I looked at the gun in my hand and waited. When I was calm I strolled into the room where I had left Mathenet. He was still sitting on the edge of the bed, fear and hope flickering in his eyes, as he watched me and then Duxbury.
"Corporal Duxbury," I said, "did the Commandos bring along a medical unit and a doctor?"
"Medics, we did, Lieutenant, but no doctor. You Yanks landed a parachute battalion on the airfield east of town this morning, and it was unopposed as well. They told us transports would be coming in to set up a field 'ospital and evacuate the wounded. Does the young lady need a doctor"
"Yes, it would be good for her to see a doctor, I think."
I faced Mathenet and lifted the revolver just a few inches, pulled back on the hammer, and heard the cylinder click with a nice, well- oiled sound. I pulled the trigger and the sound reverberated in the small room. Mathenet jumped in surprise and then stared at his left foot. There was a round hole dead center right through his shoe, where the laces ended. Blood bubbled up as he lifted his foot to hold it by the ankle. There was a bullet hole in the floor, too.
"I think he's going to need one as well," I said.
"A through and through, just like the captain," said Duxbury, viewing the shot with professional interest. "Lucky chap."
Mathenet was moaning, mumbling in French, and trying to untie his shoe. As he managed to get it off he started screaming as the blood poured out of it.
"Help me, please, I will bleed to death. Why did you shoot me?"
I let that pass. "Here, put your foot up on the pillow," I said as I helped him to lie down on the bed. "Corporal, get something to tie around his foot, please."
Duxbury grabbed a sheet and started ripping it into long pieces. Mathenet looked at me with wide eyes, confused.
"What are you doing…?"
"Shhhh," I said. "Take it easy."
Duxbury wrapped the strips around Mathenet's foot and tied it off tightly. The blood flow eased.
I stood over him. "Just so you know, that was for nothing. Nothing at all. Do you understand?"
He shook his head no, and tried to form the word with his mouth but nothing emerged. "That's all right. You need to understand that if you he to me, if you even hesitate to tell me the whole truth, the next one will be for something. Something permanent."
I raised the revolver again and let the barrel rest on his kneecap. The hammer wasn't back and my finger wasn't even on the trigger, but he didn't seem comforted.
"Non, non, non…" Now he got the word out.
"Okay, tell me the truth."
"Oui, oui, I will." Now his head bobbed up and down, eagerly.
"Where is Villard going with the prisoners?"
"Oh, no, I do not know, really, please…"
I put my finger on the trigger.
"He did not tell me everything, he kept secrets from everyone!"
I pulled the hammer back, and that quiet metallic sound-the click of a bullet arriving at just the right spot for its date with the firing pin-seemed to echo.