Sylvie froze in the center of her room, a limp blanket dangling between them. “I’m so sorry. Didn’t know anyone was in here.”
“Excuse me, m’selle.” White as cotton, Pierre slipped from the room, leaving Sylvie shaking and alone.
Kat gave her a bright smile. “I’m going to take a walk, but I believe Eleanor and the major are remaining.”
“Very good.” The blood had drained from Sylvie’s thin face. Bobbing a curtsy, she headed for the door.
Kat caught her hand before she bolted and gave it a gentle squeeze. “You’re safe with me. Both of you.”
Sylvie bobbed again and flew out of the room, the blanket unfolded on the bed.
* * *
Barrett twisted Anton onto his back and wrapped his hands around his neck. “You have about thirty seconds before you lose consciousness. What do you do?”
Panic flared in Anton’s eyes as he smacked against Barrett’s hands. Sweat rolled off his forehead and plopped onto the thin training mat beneath him.
“Think, Anton. I know it’s hard, but you must concentrate.”
The boy’s panicked whimpers echoed off the low cellar ceiling as he shoved at Barrett’s chest.
With most men, Barrett would have added pressure to their necks so they understood the sensation of choking to death, but one small squeeze on Anton’s would have him passed out. “Your hands are useless because you won’t have enough force to use them properly. Besides your hands and legs, what weapon do you have to use?”
“A knife.” Anton drew his leg up and fumbled in his sock until his knife slipped free. Red mottled his face as he brandished it triumphantly before Barrett.
“Unless you plan on stuffing that in my mouth, show me what you do with it. Hang on. Make sure it’s closed first. I’d rather not bleed out today.”
Double-checking for safety, Anton pushed the blunt end of the knife against Barrett’s lower back.
“Oh, I’m terribly sorry, sir. Have I inconvenienced you by sitting on your chest like this?” Barrett leaned down with most of his weight. “If you’re trying to kill me, you better do a proper job of it the first time because I won’t be very forgiving if you keep jabbing me like that.”
A few grunts and feeble attempts that completely missed his kidneys, and Barrett was ready to call it quits. The kid wasn’t a killer. He didn’t have what it took to . . . to what? Survive? Defend himself? Defend his loved ones? No, Barrett didn’t believe that. Every man had it in him with the right motivation.
Like a dog stretching out for a nap, Barrett settled the rest of his weight. “What happens when it’s not me you’re fighting off, but a German? An SS officer has stormed into your home in the middle of the night. Your mother and sister are wailing as they watch that Nazi take the very life from you.”
The distress in Anton’s eyes burned to hatred. Good. Finally hit the right button.
Barrett leaned farther down, his nose almost bumping Anton’s. “Your sister is next.”
With a cry from a medieval battlefield, Anton rammed his closed knife into the tender kidney at Barrett’s back. Barrett rolled off as the shock jolted down his legs. He stared at the cracked ceiling for several long minutes as the pain subsided.
Anton’s pale, worried face hovered over him. “All right, Patron? I’m so sorry if I’ve hurt you.”
Barrett grinned and clapped him on the arm. “All right, lad. You did fine, exactly what you needed to do. Now, go take a break. You deserve it.”
Scrambling to his feet, Anton hurried to the table covered with cups of water and plates of bread and cheese. His comrades crowded around him, thumping him on the back.
“Not dead, are you?” Auguste, his second in command for training, extended a meaty hand.
“No, but I can feel the bruise setting in. Right nasty come morning.” Barrett grabbed his hand and eased to his feet. “First spark of anger that lad’s given us.”
Gus’s pulverized face twisted with appreciation. A famed boxer in his younger days, he’d found his next calling in teaching the recruits combative skills. “Found his sticking point, didn’t you.”
“Aye, but it’s not enough.”
Skirting around the practice mats where three groups of men grappled, they sat on the bench on the opposite wall from their students. The fluorescent lights flickered overheard. Anton glowed with pride as he showed the others his knife. He fumbled with the safety before it finally sprang open.
“He’s going to get himself shot. Probably the rest of us as well.”