man through the chest. The pudgy figure stumbled back into the toilet, clattering into a bucket filled with brooms and mops.
The range was nothing, but aiming wasn’t easy with gas masks on and Goldberg nodded appreciatively.
As Goldberg approached the scientists’ dorm, Marc looked into the laboratory. The main lights were off, but there were several indicator lights and the glow of valves visible through the grilles of electrical equipment.
‘Get ready,’ Goldberg said, as he made a come here sign in Didier’s direction. ‘Have the gas ready, just in case, but try and avoid using it. We don’t want to have to carry these scientists out on our backs.’
Goldberg pushed the door handle down, and booted it inwards before spinning out and pressing his back to the corridor wall. He’d expected a blast of gunfire or some heroic German charge, but all he got was a strong whiff of body odour and a couple of sleepy moans about making less noise.
Marc reached around the doorway and flipped light switches when his hand found them. The men inside were on metal-framed bunks and began yawning and shielding their eyes. Goldberg charged in with his machine gun ready, but there was no sign of soldiers or Luftwaffe.
Goldberg pulled up his gas mask. ‘Where are the Germans?’ he shouted.
A man in the top bunk nearest the door stared at Goldberg’s commando gear as he felt about for a set of wire-rimmed glasses.
‘I think the Boche all went up top for something,’ the man said. ‘Something connected to your presence, I’d imagine.’
Goldberg looked surprised, as Marc made sure there were no Nazis under the beds, or hiding behind the lockers at the end of the room.
‘They left you completely unguarded?’ Goldberg asked.
The man with the glasses nodded as he swung his feet over the side of the bed. ‘We don’t give the Germans any trouble,’ he explained. ‘Best not to mess with men armed with machine guns, don’t you think?’
The plan had been for Henderson to tell the scientists what would happen next, but he was up top with a mouthful of busted teeth. As French wasn’t Goldberg’s first language, the job fell to Marc.
‘Listen up,’ Marc said, clapping his hands to fix everyone’s attention as he put down his backpack.
‘Have the Americans landed?’ a fat man rolling off one of the rear bunks asked.
‘No such luck,’ Marc said, as he realised that the men down here probably didn’t get much news. ‘We’re part of a resistance group. You need to listen carefully. The base guards are either dead or hiding out in one of the other rooms. We have high-quality false documentation that will enable you to travel to Paris, disguised as a team of labourers. Once there you’ll be split into pairs and you’ll begin carefully planned journeys to Allied territory.
‘I need you to move quickly and quietly. Pack a few personal belongings, but nothing that contains your real identity. You can also go—’
Marc was interrupted by the sound of a bullet ricocheting off bricks. Goldberg looked out and saw that Luc had shot a Luftwaffe officer who’d been hiding in the laboratory.
Boo and Joyce had dug up pictures of many of the scientists named in the notebook, mostly from the group photographs traditionally taken at the end of big scientific conferences. Luc recognised his victim as the German project director, Dr Hans Lutz.
‘Got another Nazi!’ Luc shouted cheerfully. ‘Guess the big boss didn’t want to go upstairs and get his hands dirty.’
‘When we’re certain it’s safe, you can also go across the hall to the laboratory,’ Marc continued, trying to assert himself above an atmosphere of fear and shock. ‘You can each take a small quantity of scientific notes, along with any equipment that you feel is of high value. But we only have two trucks and whatever you take, you’ve got to be able to carry by yourselves. I also need to take up-to-date photographs of each of you, which I’ll develop en route and attach to the blank documentation.’
‘Are you here because Jaulin passed his notebook to that fat doctor?’ a lanky man dressed in socks and undershorts asked. It was understandable that the scientists had mixed feelings about the sudden shocking arrival of the resistance, but this fellow sounded outright hostile.
‘Yes, we got the notebook,’ Marc said. ‘We’ll have plenty of time to explain when we’re on the road. What matters now is that you pack up and leave as quickly as possible.’
‘Escaping sounds damned dangerous to me,’ the