“Hiram? What’s wrong?” She turned and walked back to him. “You don’t look so good.” She put an arm around him and guided him to a bench inside the barn.
“Yesterday, things didn’t go as planned. The pod was the only place I could go. I think I spent too long inside. I need a place to rest, just for a few hours.”
She nodded. “I know just the place.”
46
0300 hours, Monday, August 17, 1942, Pont Saint Vincent, Meurthe-et-Moselle Department, Vichy France
Hiram, Deborah, and Teams Charlie and Delta arrived in the hills above the railyard with time to spare. Hiram left Danette, Rosette, and Leverette at the abandoned farm in the Jura Mountains, though Danette put up a fuss about being left behind. Hiram insisted he didn’t want the others involved if a firefight developed. “Someone needs to watch over them,” he had told her. He would have left Deborah behind with them as well, but he preferred her translations to the Babel Fish’s and she was the only one he trusted in his current state.
Deborah, awaiting his return, had found one of Hiram’s blackout tents. She had set the small dome up in the woods behind the house with every intention of providing Hiram a homecoming gift, though she had been the one to come back to him after so long away. Instead, she lay beside him as he drifted off into a near coma. When he had finally woken, nearly seven hours later, she was still there and Hiram told her about Hagar’s Curse.
Charlotte and Denise moved toward the edge of a stand of trees that stopped atop the crest of the hill. They could observe most of the railyard with their night vision scopes. Nora and Irene launched surveillance drones. Nora’s flew west in search of any approaching threats. Irene sent hers southward along the road toward Dijon and spotted the convoy of trucks from Camp Joffre. Under blackout conditions, the trucks still had more than two hours travel to reach the railyard. Irene brought the drone in as low as she dared, counting heat signatures with the thermal camera. Except for the lead truck, which carried two men, she detected a single occupant in the remaining vehicles. The Commandant had followed Petain’s instructions. Hiram smiled.
He limped to the edge of the woods, Deborah at his side. They settled in beside Charlotte. He rubbed his sore, swollen ankle. “What do you see?”
“Five men patrol the train at all times.” Charlotte paused to let Deborah translate. “None of them wearing police uniforms. We counted ten fixed posts around the railyard, including the two men up there.” She pointed to the dispatcher’s tower.
Satisfied with her assessment, Hiram activated the HF radio and set it to the frequency Sarah had given him.
“Falcon, this is Hawk, over.”
“Hawk, this is Falcon, over.”
“Falcon, what is your location? Over.”
“Hawk, I’m about two hundred meters up the ridge west of the railyard, over.”
“Falcon, I’ll join you at your location. Do you need anything? Food? Water? Over.” He gave Trembley one last chance to use one of the duress codes, “doughnut” or “burger.”
“Negative Hawk. We’ll be expecting you. Falcon out.”
Hiram led Deborah and Team Delta south toward Trembley’s location, leaving Charlotte, Barbara, and Team Charlie in place to keep an eye on the railyard below. The women carried heavy loads of extra weapons and ammo intended for Trembley’s partisans. They climbed down the wooded hillside, out of sight of the policemen standing guard, in a travelling overwatch formation, trailing team ready to support those in front if Trembley had been compromised. They crossed a stream flanked by heavy brush and climbed the wooded ridge. Everyone on the team panted as they reached the crest, Deborah more than most, as she assisted Hiram and his worsening ankle.
A familiar, American voice called out “Napoleon.” Hiram almost laughed at the sound of it. He had established the challenge and password before the teams set out for the original attack on the train. It seemed like a lifetime ago. Today’s challenge, he remembered, was Napoleon.
Hiram responded “Waterloo.”
Trembley, accompanied by three French Partisan soldiers, emerged from the woods. Hiram observed his slow, painful steps. As he moved closer, the moonlight illuminated his battered and bruised face.
“Boy am I glad to see you,” Trembley said in English. He greeted Deborah and Team Delta in a similar manner.
“What happed to your face?” Hiram asked.
“You should see the other guy,” the American said.
“We have his boss, about four hundred yards that way. He’s being helpful. Seems to want to save more than just his pretty face.”
Trembley shrugged it off. “I’ll be fine now that I can see out of both eyes again. Could use a couple aspirin, though.”
Hiram fished two ibuprofen tablets out of his first aid kit and handed them to Trembley.
“Take these,” Hiram said. “Much more effective than aspirin and they won’t fuzz your thinking like something stronger.”
“Thanks.” Trembley swallowed the pills with a swig of water from a canteen Nora offered.
“How did you escape?” Hiram asked.
“Emma was brought into the passenger car, to be tortured in front of me by DuBois, Petain’s number two. He was the one who roughed me up.” Trembley smiled, revealing the gap where two teeth were missing on the left side of his jaw. “Petain left to find out what the hold-up was. The second Petain stepped onto the ground, Emma kicked DuBois in the family jewels, then broke his neck. Impressive, truly. She freed my restraints, stomped on the dead man’s face and let out a couple god-awful screams. I’m sure Petain thought his henchman was doing his job. We slipped out of the front of the passenger car and into the woods before they sent anyone to check on us. Then we ran into these fine fellows casing the railyard for an attack.” Trembley turned and motioned the partisans forward.
“Where is Emma now?” asked Hiram.
“She is monitoring the activity in the rest of the train along with members of the resistance, just in case DuBois’s body is discovered. I fear the other men might decide to start hurting the passengers or the others from our Team.”
Hiram, Deborah, Nora, Catherine, Pauline, and Simone followed Trembley and the men into the French Partisan encampment. Twelve well-armed men pointed weapons at them until the one Hiram guessed to be the leader approached.
Trembley touched the man’s shoulder. “Monsieur Rene Donath I’d like you to meet Hiram Halphen.”
Donath nodded, shook Hiram’s hand, and the introductions continued. The women who had accompanied Hiram fell into quiet conversation with the French Partisans, whose attention seemed drawn to the advanced weapons they carried.
Donath and Trembley said a few more words before laughter erupted between them. Trembley made friends with ease.
Trembley, Donath, Deborah, and Hiram discussed the guard detail around the railyard. Trembley translated. Charlotte’s numbers came in a little shy, but Hiram suspected Donath’s men might be the kind who overestimated and prepared for the worst.
“Most of the men guarding the train climbed into a truck and left about two hours ago, heading north,” Trembley said. “You have anything to do with that?”
“Captain Petain can be most persuasive when he has a gun pressed to his ribs,” Hiram said. “And in case you’re thinking of ways to deal with Petain after this is over, we already have plans for him.”
“Yes, Captain Trembley told us one of your soldiers is the mother of that poor girl he shot. She deserves her revenge. I presume you have a plan. How can we help?”