“Team Delta, track the Waffen SS unit from a safe distance with your drone. Report back when they reach Vichy. Or, if they stop before then. Hawk out.” I sure as hell hope they stop.
Turning to Locard, he said, “Find a safe place to park off the road. I need to make another radio call. I can’t do it from the car.”
“Don’t trust us yet?” Oster said, peering over the back of the seat.
Hiram looked at Oster, not answering. Trust was a hard thing to sell. Locard defied the French police, Oster the German army. He wanted to trust them, but he’d read too many documents about spies and double agents to assume men who turned on their own wouldn’t turn on him.
Oster put his hands up and sat back in his seat. “I understand. I suppose I wouldn’t trust me either.”
Locard turned left off the main road onto a hard-packed gravel path. At a break in the tree line, he turned left again and followed a narrow dirt track into the woods. He stopped just past a bend in the track, shut off the engine, and Hiram climbed out. He walked far enough into the woods to conceal his call from the two men in the car. He moved slowly and held on to some of the trees along the way to keep his balance on the uneven ground. The moldable cast stabilizing his ankle grew more annoying with each passing day, but it helped with the pain and stopped him from injuring himself further.
The Icarus communications drone Agnes had launched towards London reported its arrival the previous evening. He had instructed Nora, who took over responsibility for the drone when Team Delta broke off from the group, to keep the drone above the city to ensure the ability to communicate with Sarah. But Sarah’s delicate position in the hands of the OSS could not be guaranteed. Trust wasn’t easily bought either.
“Raven, this is Hawk, over.” Hiram waited five minutes and repeated the call.
“Hawk, this is Raven, over. Good to hear your voice Hawk, over.” Sarah’s words muted his worry.
“How are your hosts treating you? Over.”
“We’re getting along fine. The mood here is tense. Everyone is waiting for news, whether good or bad. So, fill me in, over.”
Hiram laid out the events of the past three days, including Rosette’s and Leverette’s rescue and Team Foxtrot’s rendezvous with Deborah and Danette. The formality of their radio call faded, turning more conversational, each pausing between statements to ensure one didn’t talk over the other.
He faltered when he started to tell her about the morning’s train mishap. He had been holed up with Locard and Oster while his soldiers took a stand. Trembley had accompanied teams Echo, Foxtrot and Golf. Trembley had witnessed Justine, Ester, Stephanie and Anna dying while fighting for the lives of their families. Hiram understood why Trembley had to go in his place. Still, he carried the guilt of leaving them with the OSS man. And brave Trembley, now a prisoner of the French police, would die along with all the others on the train.
“Hawk? Are you with me?”
“Today was rough,” he said. “We lost four.”
“Who?”
“I don’t think you should worry about that now.”
“Who?” she said.
“Justine, Ester, Stephanie, and Anna.”
The radio silence continued. He worried she’d disconnected, but he didn’t want to say anything more.
“Did we take out at least that many?” Her voice quivered.
“And many more,” he said.
“Good. Tell me the rest.”
“They couldn’t keep fighting,” he said. “The man on the train◦– Locard says he is known as Captain Petain◦– he threatened to kill the children. They tried to call his bluff.”
“Hawk?”
“Maxime’s daughter was killed.”
Again, the silence remained too long. “Her suffering is over.” Whether she spoke of Maxime or the girl, Hiram agreed with Sarah.
“Ellen, Emma, Myriam, Isabelle, and Diane were captured. They’re on the train.” He considered telling her about the loss of several M22 assault rifles, four C2ID2 units, and four portals. He assumed that someone from the Allied High Command listened to their conversation, raising the possibility of a leak. Hitler had survived many a plot, some due to informants, some due to blind luck.
Hiram waited for her response, not sure if she understood the impact of what had happened. For a few seconds, he heard the crackle of the call trying to come through and thought he must have lost her.
Her words boomed out of the speaker, voice strong and willful as ever. “What’s the plan? Over.”
Hiram took a breath, the first that seemed full after the day’s rough start. Her eagerness to move forward propelled him to focus on the next thing to be done. “Raven, inform General Eisenhower that Operation Roundup is in jeopardy. We think the German 15th Infantry Division is headed toward Toulouse and the coast, and the 2nd Waffen SS Panzer Grenadier Division is going to occupy Vichy, and maybe Lyon, the regional capital. Will advise when we have more information, over.”
“Wilco, Hawk,” Sarah replied. After a brief pause, she added, “Hawk, request status on Team Bravo, over.”
Hiram assumed the question had come from one of Eisenhower’s men. Team Bravo’s mission put them in position to destroy the French fleet at Toulon. If the Allies abandoned Operation Roundup in favor of Operation Torch, initiating the invasion of North Africa, then the elimination of the fleet at Toulon would be high on Eisenhower’s wish list. When Eisenhower made the call, Team Bravo would take the job, if he could reach them. “Raven, Bravo left radio range last night. Will advise when we make contact, over.”
“Copy, Hawk. Anything further, over?”
“Negative Raven. Hawk, out.” Hiram punched a new code into his C2ID2 and tried to raise Team Bravo for the third time that day.
Hiram returned to the car after one last attempt to communicate with the missing team. Locard and Oster leaned against the front end, a picnic basket perched on the hood between them. The French detective took a sip out of a small metal cup, then passed it to the German officer.
Locard spoke as he approached. “Glad you found your way back. Thought maybe we should send out a search party.”
Oster pulled a heel of bread out of the basket. “You must try this bread. Locard’s aunt makes wonderful bread.”
“And cheese,” said Locard as he held out an open tea towel. “Not like the rations we’ve been getting in town.”
Hiram looked at the chunk of bread and the rough block of cheese. He had packed a few meal bars for himself and his newest accomplices just in case. After a brief pause, Hiram accepted their offer. He joined the two men leaning on the front of the car and enjoyed the unexpected meal.
After lunch, Locard drove back toward the main road. Oster sat in the front, Hiram in the back. When they reached the main road, the third brigade of the 2nd Waffen SS Panzer Grenadier Division rolled down both lanes of the highway. They looked at each other for a moment, surprised. The ground shook as Tiger tanks passed.
Oster, still in his uniform, left the car and walked to the edge of the road. Vehicle commanders saluted him as they passed, holding their stance until it looked both awkward and uncomfortable. The vehicles maintained speed. After a few minutes, Oster waved down a six-wheeled Mercedes command car. Hiram and Locard watched from the car as Oster presented his papers. He conversed with one of the officers seated in the backseat of the Mercedes.
Without warning, the officer stood up and waved a passing half-track to a halt. He pointed at Locard’s car shouting something in German. The soldier on top of the huge armored vehicle swung his machine gun around to face them. Locard ducked behind the dashboard. Hiram dove to the floor. Gunfire erupted around them.