One Shot Kill - Robert Muchamore Page 0,35

unless I tell you to move. You don’t speak unless I ask a question. And don’t think I won’t shoot you because I’m just a girl. I’m well trained and I’ll execute you both in a heartbeat.’

As her two little pigs looked up, Rosie squatted on one of their filthy beds while Justin stood awkwardly in the doorway. They had a collection of hunting gear kept in good condition, but Rosie’s eyes were drawn towards the books, which included several anti-German pamphlets and a copy of The Communist Manifesto.

‘Which one of you read this?’ Rosie asked.

They were reluctant to admit anything with a gun pointed in their face. Didier’s nose was dripping blood into the dirt.

‘I had a copy once, but I never finished,’ Rosie said, trying to sound friendlier as she picked up one of the anti-German leaflets. ‘I can’t believe you’ve survived this long while being this stupid. They’re desperate for men in the factories, you know? If they catch you, they’ll ship you off to Germany. But if they catch you with communist literature and resistance pamphlets, they’ll pass you over to the Gestapo, who will torture you. Only a total moron would leave this stuff lying around next to their beds.’

Rosie threw the pamphlet and The Communist Manifesto at Justin. ‘Start a fire and burn these.’

As Justin walked outside, Rosie considered her position. She’d had no option but to fight and there was no harm in showing Jean and Didier who was the boss, but young men tended to have big egos and they’d hate her if she humiliated them for much longer.

‘If I put this gun back in my bag, are you going to be civil?’

‘Sure,’ Jean said grumpily.

‘He’s got half a bush sticking out of his arse,’ Rosie said, pointing at Didier. ‘Help him get the thorns out.’

‘Who taught you to fight?’ Didier asked, as he stood up and wiped his dirty palms down his trousers. He didn’t seem so drunk now, probably because the beating had generated an adrenaline kick.

‘I was trained by the resistance,’ Rosie said, deliberately not giving details. ‘You’re on the run, and I can see from your literature that you want the Germans out of France as much as I do. My question is, do you want to run around the forest catching rabbits and getting pissed, or have you got the balls to make a difference?’

It was a loaded question – what red-blooded teenage male would turn down a pretty girl asking for help?

‘What is it you want?’ Jean asked.

Rosie loosened the bloody wire embedded in her ankle and pulled it over her shoe as she spoke. ‘Justin brought me out here because he said you know the forests around here better than anyone.’

This wasn’t strictly true, but after knocking the boys down, they needed some flattery.

‘Are you interested in the bomb bunker?’ Didier asked.

Rosie half smiled, as she clamped a handkerchief over her bleeding ankle. ‘Well, the resistance would hardly be interested in the trees and the squirrels, would it? Why do you call it the bomb bunker?’

‘That’s what they store there, isn’t it?’ Didier said.

This was news to Rosie, but she hid her surprise well.

‘You’ve seen trucks of bombs going in and out?’ Rosie asked.

‘You see Luftwaffe men loading them on to trucks,’ Jean explained.

‘Can you get up close to the wire?’ Rosie asked.

‘You’d be pushing your luck to get up really close. We’d never set traps around there, but there’s an old guard we’ve gotten to know. He likes his rabbit meat and he swaps it for tinned stuff out of the bunker: jam, beans, fruit.’

‘I need a guide to take me up there tomorrow,’ Rosie said, as she pulled out a small camera. ‘I need a good set of photos. They need to be taken in daylight from all angles.’

‘It’s risky,’ Didier said.

Jean shook his head. ‘Not that risky, as long as you go the back way. Stay well clear of the road and the main footpaths. Except for an occasional patrol, the guards stay behind the fence. And if they spot you from inside the wire it’s easy to duck into the trees.’

‘No tracking dogs or anything like that?’ Rosie asked.

‘Not that I’ve ever seen,’ Jean said.

‘This is a down-payment,’ Rosie said, as she took two ten-franc notes from her shoulder bag. ‘The resistance doesn’t just take. Whenever you work for me, you’ll earn a small wage. We can also help you with documents, accommodation and ration books if you ever need them.