Secret Army - Robert Muchamore Page 0,62

thigh. The snow was thinner in these parts, but Marc was engulfed as the parachute silk snagged and sent white clumps tumbling down from the branches.

Marc’s boot hit a thick trunk. He used it as a brace to stop himself getting dragged deeper into the branches, but he still had to brave the thorns and reach down and free himself from the harness.

‘Need a hand?’ Joel asked.

Marc looked up. It was dark, but there was enough moonlight to catch the amusement on Joel’s face. ‘What do you think?’ Marc grunted. ‘Grab hold of me.’

Marc cursed as he staggered to his feet. The thorns in his thigh hurt and he knew his wet legs and bum wouldn’t dry out in the cold. Just to rub in the misery, Marc saw that he’d hit the only obstacle for fifty metres in any direction.

PT and Rosie had found each other and came towards the scene holding balled-up chutes.

‘Nice landing, Marc,’ Rosie grinned, as Marc shone torchlight on his thigh and pulled out the first of six thorns.

‘Hold the torch for me,’ Marc said irritably.

PT began shoving the four parachutes deep into the sprawling bush. If the chutes were left open they’d catch the wind and might be spotted. The last thing they wanted was a search party looking for them.

‘No sign of Luc,’ Joel noted, as he scanned the landscape.

‘I didn’t see his chute,’ PT agreed. ‘Parris can’t have got the hook back on in time.’

‘First bit of good news I’ve heard all day,’ Marc said, then winced as Rosie used her nails to tweeze out another thorn.

‘Luc’s a fool,’ Joel said, with a nod. ‘But those guns look heavy and an extra pair of hands might have sped us up.’

Joel pulled the map out of his satchel. Although it was dark, there was enough light to see three looming hilltops and a narrow road a few hundred metres away.

‘What does it look like?’ PT asked, as he crouched beside Joel.

‘The Norwegian’s map is right,’ Joel said. ‘You see, the three hills over there? They match the contour lines on our main maps and the road is exactly where—’

‘Owwww!’ Marc yelled.

Rosie had saved the deepest thorn until last and couldn’t help laughing as Marc hobbled around clutching his thigh. ‘You’re such a baby!’

‘Keep the racket down,’ PT warned. ‘For all we know there’s people nearby.’

Once Marc calmed down, the quartet crouched in a circle of torchlight around Joel’s map.

‘Three targets,’ Joel said. ‘This one is much nearer. Two and a bit miles.’

Rosie was suspicious. ‘We know Walker’s out to get us,’ she said warily. ‘There’s three targets on that map, one is two miles from where Walker chose to have us dropped. The others look like they’re six and eight miles away.’

‘You’re saying it’s a trap?’ Joel asked.

Rosie shrugged. ‘All I’m saying is, do we want to go where Walker expects us to?’

‘It’s the same gun at each target, though,’ Marc said.

‘Same gun,’ Rosie agreed. ‘But what about security? I mean, wouldn’t security be tighter at, say, a factory where they made Spitfires than a factory where they make boots or tents.’

‘Rosie’s right about Walker,’ PT said, as he took the map from Joel. ‘I was involved in a few heists when my dad was alive. He always said that stealing is an art, but true genius lies in getting away afterwards. Looking at this map, the nearest target is in the middle of nowhere. One road in and out, which means you’ll either get picked up easily, or you’ve got to hike across country. I say we go for this one.’

PT pointed at the most distant of the three targets.

‘Eight miles,’ Joel protested. ‘And that’s if we go cross country through snow and ice. It’s more like twelve on these country roads.’

‘But it’s on the outskirts of Manchester,’ PT explained. ‘The city is off our map, but Manchester has dozens of roads. It’ll be much easier to lose ourselves after the heist.’

‘Guess you’re right,’ Joel nodded. ‘Maybe we can steal bicycles or catch a lift.’

‘We’ll try,’ PT agreed, as he took out his compass and started pencilling a route on to his map. ‘We’re going to need tools and stuff too, bolt croppers for cutting fences, spanners for taking the gun off its mounting.’

‘Plus food, or money to buy food,’ Marc added. ‘We’ve got the chocolate and water in our canteens, but that’s not much if we’re out in this cold all day long.’

‘I think we should start walking,’ Rosie said. ‘We