Cast No Shadow, Peter Sharp [books to get back into reading txt] 📗

They were gone only a matter of minutes before they filed back in. The ‘Uncle’ smiled. Kelly inwardly sighed with relief as with very obvious significance, he and his comrades were handed their weapons. They were safe.

With the tension abated, the assembly sat chatting amiably and enjoying a glass of wine together. Tonton explained to the three that they currently had to be extra careful, as the group had almost been infiltrated by a couple that had become known as ‘The Vikings’.

Kelly was intrigued, “Why Vikings?” he asked.

“It’s a man and woman team,” explained Tonton. “Possibly man and wife. The man doesn’t get involved, but the woman tries to infiltrate resistance groups, then presumably feeds back to the man who passes the information onto the Gestapo.”

Tonton sipped his wine, then as if remembering the original question continued, “They are called the ‘Vikings’ because although the man is apparently German, the woman is Scandinavian.”

Kelly felt himself visibly blanche. “By Scandinavian, do you mean Swedish?”

“Swedish, Norwegian, one or the other. Probably Norwegian. At least, that’s her story. She claims she was part of the Norwegian underground and that the man is a German deserter who saved her life.” Tonton paused for a moment. “We now have their location. I will be looking for volunteers to ‘retire’ them.”

“I will do it!” said Kelly without hesitation, a knot forming in his stomach. He was conscious of Élise looking at him, an odd, curious expression on her face. He refused to meet her eyes.

“Why?” Tonton asked, carefully scrutinising him.

“It will give me a chance to prove myself to you and your group,” said Kelly. “I am happy to work alone. It will reduce the odds of any of your team being killed or injured.”

“You know we wouldn’t let you do that, Dan,” said Wolf. “Élise and I would insist on going with you. We are a team, together.” Élise nodded.

No one spoke for some time, as Tonton paced up and down, pondering the suggestion. Eventually he found his voice. “The plan has merit. I did not want to expose my people at this stage, so close to the invasion. You on the other hand are unknown here. It will be risky, but with the right papers you should be able to pull it off.”

Another pause. “Very well. We need to move quickly; if they get wind of the fact that we are on to them they will move out. Laure will lead you to the house, but that will be her only involvement.”

The strike was agreed for three days hence, which would give Tonton time to arrange the necessary papers. They discussed the location of a safe house where provision could be made for them in a busy part of the town. There they were less likely to attract attention in that area, and fresh clothes would be supplied.

Nonetheless, it was with a feeling of mounting apprehension that Kelly finally drifted off to sleep that night.

The four stood around at the junction of the Rue D’Auvergne and Rue de Bourgogne with a clear view of the Rue D’Auvergne, and in particular house number 16. They chatted as if they had just met in the street, Laure with her arm linking that of Rahn, Kelly with his arm around the shoulders of Élise, for all the world like two couples gossiping and passing the time of day. Kelly had arranged himself so that he was partly hidden by Rahn but could still see the approach to the house.

They could only afford to stay for about thirty minutes in this position before they would start to attract attention. Fifteen minutes had already expired. Laure had explained that the couple were in the habit of returning at about the same time each day. Today they were only slightly overdue.

They chatted for another five or so minutes before Laure visibly tensed. “It’s them!” she whispered trying to smile to maintain their cover. The others looked around while surreptitiously keeping up a steady banter of irrelevant chatter. Kelly inwardly hoped he was wrong about the woman’s identity.

It was a warm May afternoon. The woman was lightly dressed, and her figure was clearly visible. Her blonde, almost white hair moved around in the light breeze. Kelly’s heart sank. It was Sybilla! It occurred to him that he had never actually seen Jürgen Meyer, but her tall dark strongly built companion must be he.

He slowly became conscious of Rahn peering into his eyes and speaking. “Dan? Are you alright? Where are you?”

“Sorry, Padre. I was thinking about our approach tonight.”

“Good!” said Rahn, but he didn’t look entirely convinced.

Once the couple had entered number 16 the small group dispersed, Laure to her home the other three to their safe house. They waited there for night to fall.

As dusk slid into darkness, the three checked their pistols one more time, Rahn having decided his Thompson was far too conspicuous, and slipped out into the night, blending with the shadows. They moved noiselessly to the Rue D’Auvergne. Kelly indicated to Élise to take up a position at the rear of the house. Her response was a scowl and a shake of the head. Kelly nodded vigorously and gestured impatiently. Reluctantly she left the two of them and made her way to the rear to cut off any escape.

Lights shone from an upstairs window and from the ground floor. Kelly and Rahn, their faces set in stone masks, made their way to the house, and walked up to the front door, Rahn tried the door, found it locked, and then knocked.

A man’s face came into view, peering around the curtain. Immediately he disappeared again. There was the sound of shouting and a commotion from inside. Feet were dashing downstairs; objects were being broken in the rush. Rahn hurled himself at the window, twisting at the last moment so that he crashed through back first. Kelly followed him, vaulting over the windowsill. Rahn was already upright, moving to the stairs.