around and was trying to splay him over a desktop.
‘Let go, moron,’ Marc shouted.
As Luc slugged Marc in the gut, Paul ran to the front of the classroom and grabbed the big wooden blackboard ruler. It made a very satisfactory crack as it hit Luc over the back of the head.
‘You wait, stick-boy,’ Luc shouted. ‘I’ll break you when I’ve dealt with this arsehole.’
Chairs and tables grated against the floor as Luc landed another punch on Marc, while Paul tried to lock his arms around Luc’s waist to drag him away. The door swung open and Third Officer DeVere – more commonly known as Boo – charged into the tangle of flying limbs.
‘Pack it in, now,’ she roared. ‘The captain will be here any second and you’ll all be for it.’
Boo was taller than the two fifteen-year-olds but not as strong. With Paul’s help she got Luc off Marc, just as Henderson came into the room holding an armful of briefing papers.
‘This is unacceptable,’ he shouted.
After putting his papers down, Henderson charged towards the boys. He picked the blackboard ruler off the floor and there was a whooshing sound, followed by a crack as Marc took an almighty swipe across the front of his thigh.
As Marc yelped, Henderson’s second swipe caught a rapidly retreating Luc across the buttocks. Paul braced for a whack himself, but luckily Henderson had only seen him helping Boo break the fight up.
‘Sit down, all four of you,’ Henderson barked. ‘I’m sick of you two constantly fighting. I’m starting to think a damned good Royal-Navy-style flogging is needed to straighten you out. If I see this again, I give you my word that that’s what you’ll get. Understood?’
‘Yes, sir,’ the boys chanted.
‘Now, sit down.’
Paul drew pleasure from the pained expression Luc wore as he sat on his freshly thrashed arse. Henderson hadn’t been messing about – the blow to Marc’s thigh had drawn blood, and he was still wincing with pain as Henderson moved his papers to the front of the room, then got Boo to help pin photographs around the outer frame of the blackboard.
‘In contrast to what I’ve seen here this morning,’ Henderson began, ‘Sergeant Goldberg tells me that all four of you have made good progress during the first five days of sniper training. I know you’re wondering why you’ve been undergoing this training, and as you’ve now reached the halfway point I felt you deserved an explanation. Boo will begin the briefing with some background information. Sam, don’t hide up there at the back, come up front so that you can see the photographs properly.’
Boo began talking as Sam shuffled between tightly packed desks towards the front.
‘As some of you know already, a few weeks back Rosie Clarke stumbled upon a notebook containing remarkable intelligence relating to a secret German project known as FZG-76.’
Boo paused to make a rough outline drawing on the blackboard. It looked like a bomb, but it had small wings and a tail with what looked like a giant golf tee mounted on it.
‘As Hitler feels the weight of Allied pressure, he’s been making an increasing number of statements about “Victory” weapons which he claims will turn the war back in his favour. We believe that FZG-76 is one such victory weapon and it will probably be the first of them to be used in anger.’
‘So what is it?’ Sam asked.
‘Good question,’ Boo said cheerfully, as she tapped her stick of chalk against the diagram. ‘Put simply, it’s a bomb that flies by itself. There’s a propellerless engine of unknown design built into the tail, a big cargo of explosives in the middle, and in the nose there’s a gyroscopic system that guides the flying bomb to its target.’
The four boys looked at each other in disbelief.
‘It’ll never work,’ Marc said. ‘A plane with no propeller and no pilot. How does it even get off the ground?’
‘I’m afraid it’s flown already, Marc,’ Boo said, which was enough to make Luc mumble that Marc was a dickhead. ‘The resistance in Denmark has been picking up radio signals transmitted by FZG-76 test units for over six months. Triangulation of these radio signals leads us to believe that the units fly faster than any British fighter and that the accuracy of the self-guidance system is improving.’
‘So when will they start bombing us with them?’ Paul asked.
‘Indications are that FZG-76 is still in prototype phase. Mass production is probably still three to twelve months away. What we’re really interested in is the