Eagle Day - Robert Muchamore Page 0,97

guard hut illuminated a pair of crude fishing rods that the guards had hooked on the pier.

‘Two tugs,’ Rosie noted, as she pointed across the harbour.

‘Tugs are ideal,’ Henderson whispered. ‘Designed for towing, so they’re nippy when there’s nothing tied behind them. Crossing to England should take around three hours. It’d be more like six or seven in a powered barge or canal boat.’

‘Great,’ Rosie said, though Henderson could tell she was still thinking about Manfried as he pulled a .38 revolver out of his jacket.

‘You don’t have to do this, Rosie, but I’m taking on three men and I’d feel a lot better with someone covering my back.’

Rosie looked solemn as she took the unsilenced revolver. What if she ended up having to kill Manfried?

‘It’s double action, no safety lock,’ Henderson warned. ‘It’ll fire cocked or uncocked, but the trigger pull is very light when it’s cocked.’

Rosie nodded as Henderson clambered over the ridge. He kept low as he crept through reeds behind the corrugated metal guard hut. When he reached the back, Henderson found a cable which led up to a radio aerial on the roof. It was vital that the guards didn’t send out an alert, so he snipped it with wire cutters.

As Henderson poked his head around the side of the hut, the front door slammed and a German stepped outside.

‘Four aces, you cheating bugger,’ he shouted bitterly, as he stepped up to the edge of the pier and unzipped his trousers to piss over the edge.

‘You’re a rotten loser,’ Manfried replied from inside.

The third man laughed inside the hut. Rosie shook as a deep rumble and a pulse of light made the loudest bang of the night.

‘Oooh, big one,’ the pissing German shouted to his comrades. ‘Sounds like an ammo dump or something. Those heavy British bombers are nasty buggers. Say your prayers when you see them coming.’

Henderson had his gun aimed at the German, but the bullet would knock him into the sea and his comrades would hear the splash and come running out. So he waited two intense minutes, as the German peed, then walked over and checked the fishing rods.

‘Another dumb idea of yours, Manfried,’ he shouted. ‘Corned beef again tonight.’

As the lanky German turned back across the pier towards the hut, Henderson shot him from the side. The range was less than three metres, but somehow Henderson conspired to miss and the German yelled out.

Henderson pulled the trigger twice more, hitting the German in the back and hip. Manfried and the third man burst outside as Henderson retreated around the side of the hut.

‘He’s over there,’ the bleeding German groaned, as the other two cocked their machine guns.

Manfried spun around. More in hope than expectation he sprayed half a magazine of ammunition into reeds and sand as Henderson dived behind and backed into Rosie.

‘Can’t believe I missed,’ Henderson gasped furiously. ‘Go around the other side, shoot anything that moves.’

Henderson heard Manfried creeping around the side of the guard hut.

‘Can’t see them,’ Manfried shouted. ‘Get back in the hut, call for help.’

As Manfried moved deeper into the reeds, Henderson shot two silenced bullets. The first hit the soldier in the gut, the second passed through his skull.

‘Manfried?’ the third German shouted from within the hut. He didn’t fancy getting trapped inside and backed out.

Rosie realised that if he had any brains, the soldier would head away from where Manfried had been shot. Henderson was over that side, so only she could stop him getting away.

She dived out from behind the building and fired at a running shadow. The first blast missed, but the second hit his body and sent him careering across the pier into a wooden post on the water’s edge. Horrified and shaking, she took two steps forward and aimed down.

The soldier’s eyes begged and his hands came up in front of his face. Rosie knew she had to squeeze the trigger, but the soldier was barely out of his teens and looked so desperate that she wanted to hug rather than kill him.

Two dull thumps came from a silenced muzzle behind her. Rosie shuddered as the young German splashed into the water. As she staggered away in shock, Henderson rushed to the edge of the pier and pumped a third bullet into the floating soldier.

‘I couldn’t,’ Rosie gasped, looking towards Henderson as she lowered her gun. ‘I’m sorry.’

After a quick glimpse to make sure the German was dead, Henderson walked back and smiled slightly as he placed a hand