Eagle Day - Robert Muchamore Page 0,90
adventure, and you had adventure thrust upon you. Your father was one of my closest friends. I know he’d be incredibly proud of what you and your sister are doing for your country.’
Paul smiled a little as Henderson took a large bar of Belgian chocolate out of his jacket. ‘A nutritious dinner for you,’ he said, smiling. ‘Now I’ve got to drive back to the farm and help Rosie to sort out a boat for the ride home.’
18:28 Boulogne
When you’re scared the worst thing that can happen is that you have to sit alone with nothing but the voices in your head for company. Lunchtime had been Marc’s only opportunity to separate from Kuefer and meet up with Khinde and Rufus, but that left six agonising hours between planting the phosphorous bombs inside the fuel tanks and the air raid.
The two prisoners had hidden in the complex of burned out wharves behind the harbours, but Marc had to keep up the pretence that he was mystified by Kuefer’s disappearance, and that meant sticking close to the Mercedes. He’d chatted to the ladies who made lunches and scrounged some extra food, he’d occasionally wandered into the office and asked if anyone had seen his boss, but mostly he’d sat in the back of the Mercedes and made himself feel sick, worrying about all the things that could go wrong.
The prisoners rarely worked any later than seven and Marc had his eyes shut and was half asleep when knuckles rapped on the car window. He jumped when he saw a German guard with a machine gun over his shoulder.
‘Where are your black buddies?’ the guard asked, as Marc pulled down the window. ‘Last truck’s heading back to the prison camp. Is Kuefer gonna drop them back, because we’re gonna cop hell if two prisoners go missing.’
Marc tried to sound a lot calmer than he felt. ‘I don’t know anything. Kuefer came and took them away, then went off with the SS officers again.’
Henderson had suggested adding phantom SS units into Marc’s story and it had worked well. The SS were elite units attached to the Nazi party rather than the military. They had absolute powers and scared ordinary German soldiers as much as they scared French civilians. The merest mention of SS involvement ensured that there would be no investigation into whatever Kuefer was supposedly up to.
‘Dammit,’ the German said. ‘I bet whatever happens, it’s me that cops the blame.’
‘Sorry.’ Marc shrugged. ‘I’m just stuck here waiting for my boss. I need to get back to my dad’s farm, but I’ve got no idea how long I’ll be stuck out here.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
19:00 The Farm
Henderson arrived home in the truck as Rosie was slicing the joint of pork. People would be coming and going at different times, so rather than cook a conventional meal she planned to use the chicken and pork to fill baguettes which people could grab whenever they arrived.
‘Meat smells good,’ Henderson said brightly, as he came in and bent forwards to give Rosie a peck on the cheek.
‘Don’t,’ she said firmly, as she backed away.
Henderson was surprised, but he didn’t think much of it until he saw how upset she looked.
‘Dumont tried to force himself on me,’ Rosie admitted, with a shudder.
‘Damn,’ Henderson roared, as he pounded on the table. ‘Did he run off? If I lay my hands on that little son of a—’
‘He’s tied up in your bedroom,’ Rosie said. ‘He saw all the cases packed. I couldn’t let him get away and I didn’t know what else to do.’
Henderson strode through to the bedroom he’d shared with Maxine and was startled by the state Rosie had left Dumont in. He lay on the floor, conscious but bloody-nosed, with deep burns across his chest. His ankles were tied and his wrists bound behind his back.
‘Please,’ Dumont begged, as he crawled back towards the wall. ‘You’ve got to let me go, she’s crazy!’
Henderson kicked Dumont hard in the stomach before pulling out his gun and sticking the muzzle against Dumont’s head.
‘There’s only one good reason why I’m not gonna blow your brains out right now,’ Henderson yelled. ‘And that’s because in my book, people who try to molest young girls deserve to die slowly.’
Henderson stood up and shouted back towards the kitchen. ‘Rosie, my petal, bring in the meat cleaver.’
‘Please,’ Dumont grovelled. ‘She’s a lying bitch, I swear. She came on to me.’
Henderson booted Dumont in the stomach again. ‘Don’t you call her a bitch,’ he shouted.dare
Dumont sobbed