Trouble in Paradise (19 page)

“There are three, but one isn’t doing so well,” she said. “I stabbed him.”

“You what?”

“I plunged a paring knife into his stomach. Did you think I was going to let them take Louise without a fight? That’s when they slugged me. Please, could you untie me?”

“Oh, sorry. Sure.” Jack said. He turned her around and worked at untying her hands. The knots must have been very tight because he was struggling. Finally her hands were freed.

“One of you must run for help,” she repeated.

“We don’t think there’s going to be time,” Jack said. “I want you to go and get help.”

“I can’t move nearly as fast as either of you two.”

“But we can’t leave. It’ll take both of us to stop them.”

“Do you really think the two of you can stop them?” she asked, with the tone of her voice leaving little doubt as what she thought of our chances.

“We have a gun,” Jack said, showing her the pistol.

“There are three of them, they all have weapons and they’re trained soldiers,” she said, listing the reasons why we couldn’t succeed.

“But they don’t know about us,” Jack said. “We have the element of surprise on our side.”

“They’re not going to be leaving the island,” I said. “That’s guaranteed. We destroyed their raft.”

“Well played,” she said. “But these men would be trained to fight to the death—they are prepared to die. They’re not going to surrender.” She paused. “Nor will they surrender Louise. They will kill her if they realize they’re trapped.”

“Then we just can’t let them know.”

“That means they will have to be killed. Do you really think you can shoot a man?” she asked.

“Yes,” I said. “I
know
I can.”

“Then you’ll need more than that little peashooter between the two of you. Help me up.”

Jack and I pulled her to her feet. She wobbled slightly, but we kept her upright. With our support, she slowly shuffled across the basement floor. She opened a door and the light of the flashlight shone on two rifles!

She grabbed one and handed it to Jack. Then she gave the second rifle to me. It was big and I was amazed at how heavy it was.

“They’re loaded. Single shot, bolt action. It carries a real wallop. Have you boys ever shot a rifle?” she asked.

“Lots of times,” Jack said. “We grew up on a farm.”

“Good. I’m going to our neighbours and I’ll send them to get help. Then I’m coming back. There are three of them so we need to even the odds.” She chuckled. “Two boys and an old woman against three trained Nazi agents … seems about right.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

JACK LED THE WAY OUTSIDE
, followed by Mrs. Farrow, and I brought up the rear. I closed the basement door behind us. The two of them had already covered the short distance from the back of the house into the cover of the underbrush. Nobody had seen them, or at least nobody had shot at them, so I guessed it was safe for me. I almost laughed at the thought of it being safe. Being at home in my bed would have been safe. Nothing about this was safe.

I slung the rifle over my shoulder and carefully made my way across the open patch of ground. I tried to push through the brush, but the rifle snagged on some branches and I had to take it off my shoulder to move forward. Jack and Mrs. Farrow were already retracing the route he and I had travelled, circling the house and returning to the path, the place we’d selected for our ambush.

I quickly caught up to them. I was keeping one eye on the ground, watching for roots, and the other on the house, so I wasn’t moving very fast, but Mrs. Farrow was moving
very
slowly. She was old, and she had been smashed in the face and tied up, and she was obviously—understandably—distraught.

We stopped at the crest of the hill. Hidden in the bushes, we could see the house in one direction and the ocean in the other. I could feel the breeze coming off the water and hear the gentle rumbling of the waves. It was almost restful, almost peaceful.

“We’re going to set up just down the path a bit,” Jack said.

“My best route to get help is down the path and along the beach toward the school,” Mrs. Farrow said. “The nearest house belongs to the Stricklands… it’s less than a half mile. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“Look,” Jack said, “we really appreciate you wanting to come back and help, but …”

“But I’m just an old woman,” she said.

“Well …”

“I’m an old woman who served king and country in The Great War. I’ll do whatever I need to do.”

“She did take out that one agent,” I said.

“And I’ll take out the other two if I have an opportunity.”

“Come back as soon as you can,” Jack said. “Do they have a phone or a car?” he asked.

“Hardly anybody has a phone, and even fewer people have a car, but they do have a carriage and horses. I’ll send Mr. Strickland off immediately and I’ll come back and bring whoever I can to help.”

“Wait at the bottom of the path,” Jack said. “Do the Stricklands have a gun?”

“I don’t know, but if they do, I’ll bring it back.”

“Good. Find a spot where you could fire at the Nazis as they cross the beach. We’ll try to make sure they don’t get that far, but—”

“Don’t do anything if you don’t have to,” she warned. “Just wait. Let’s hope that we can get help here before they try to leave.”

“We’ll wait as long as we can,” Jack said. “We’re not going to do anything to endanger Louise.” He paused. “We’d better get into position.”

Jack led the way down the path, holding on to Mrs. Farrow’s hand to guide her. The path was fairly steep, plus somehow it seemed steeper going down than going up. Gravity had naturally slowed our climb, but now I had to work hard not to pick up speed.

“Okay, be careful,” Jack said. “Here’s the trip rope.”

Jack stepped carefully over a piece of rope he’d taken from the rubber raft. He’d strung it across the trail, about six inches off the ground, pulled it tight and tied each end to a tree—perfect to trip somebody and send them
tumbling down the trail head first. Or at least that was the plan.

“This is far enough. We’ll wait for them here,” Jack said.

“Please be careful, boys,” Mrs. Farrow said.

“We will,” I said.

“I am very fond of you, Jack,” she said.

“Thanks.”

“And so is Louise. Thank you for being here. I’d better be off.”

She reached over, gave first Jack and then me a hug, and then set off down the path. She quickly vanished, caught up in the darkness, but we could still hear her footfalls and the crunch of loose gravel under her feet for some time after.

“We’re going to hear them coming before we see them,” I said.

“I’d like it if we were able to see them, too. You remember how well it worked when we were up in that tree outside the hotel?”

“Of course.”

Jack pointed at a tree. “If you were up there, do you think you’d be high enough to see the house?”

“Only one way to find out. Gimme a boost.”

We laid our rifles against the tree. He gave me a foothold with his hands and lifted me so I could grab the lowest branch. I pulled myself up and got my leg over the branch,
hauling myself up until I was standing on the limb. The rest wasn’t going to be nearly as hard. I pulled myself up from branch to branch. They were so close together that it felt more like walking up a set of stairs than climbing a tree. I climbed the tapering trunk of the tree until I wasn’t sure it was safe to go any farther. I could feel the tree gently swaying in the breeze. I pushed aside a branch and peered through the leaves. I could see the outline of the house— the veranda, the windows facing toward the ocean, and most importantly, the front door.

“I can see it!” I said softly to Jack.

“Good. Let me know as soon as you see anybody coming,” he replied, just as softly.

I had my arms wrapped around the trunk, but I let go with one arm so I could look at my watch. I brought my wrist right in front of my nose and turned it back and forth, trying to see the time in the little light that was available. It looked like it was almost eight-thirty. I tried to figure out how long it would take for Mrs. Farrow to reach the neighbours’ home, for them get ready, travel to the hotel, and then finally for the soldiers to get back here. We couldn’t hope for anything less than an hour— probably closer to ninety minutes. That meant that if we could stay put until then—if they would just stay inside the house until then—we’d have help, and we wouldn’t have to try anything heroic ourselves.

Then, almost as though wishing had made the opposite come true, I saw the door of the house open and somebody came out.

I strained my eyes at the dark silhouette. Was it one person or two? Oh, it was one man helping another! The wounded man was being half carried, half supported. I waited for the third man and a glimpse of Louise to know that she was all right, but the door closed, blocking out the light from within. I waited for it to open again, but it didn’t. Only the two were coming. Maybe they were leaving first because they couldn’t move as fast. That meant that the other agent wouldn’t be far behind them. They probably thought it was better to keep Louise inside until the wounded man was at the raft. That made sense, not to expose her any longer than necessary. I’d prayed they’d all stay inside, but at least now the odds had suddenly shifted in our favour. Two—one of them hurt—and then one was much more doable. No longer were we outnumbered.

I scampered down the tree, a branch whacking me in the face in my rush.

“Jack,” I hissed as loud as I dared. “Two men … one of them is the wounded man being helped.”

“What about the third man? What about Louise?” Jack asked.

“Still inside … probably giving these guys a head start.”

“Okay … this is good.”

I started to ease down from the lowest branch.

“No, stay up there,” Jack said. “Nobody is looking for you in a tree.”

“My rifle, hand me my rifle.”

Jack grabbed the rifle from where it leaned against the tree, started to lift it up and then hesitated.

“Too heavy, too awkward.” He put it back down. “Take this.” He removed the pistol from his waistband. He stretched up and I reached down as far as I could. He held it handle up, and I just managed to wrap my fingers around it and pull it up. It felt reassuring to have something to defend myself with.

I climbed back up the tree and stopped when I was about ten feet high, standing on a branch that was right over the path, the route they’d walk. This wasn’t such a bad place to be, although maybe a foot or two higher would be even better. I stepped up onto the branch directly above me. More height and more foliage would hide any view of me from below.

I settled in and listened. There was no sound except the leaves rustling in the breeze and the ocean murmuring in the distance. I closed my eyes—maybe with one sense shut off, the others would work better. I turned my head, trying to focus my ears on the sounds. I heard nothing. They were coming down this path, weren’t they? There wasn’t another route that they could have taken, was
there? They should have been here by now, or at least been close enough that I could hear them or— I heard loose gravel from up the path. They were coming. A double blast of relief and fear struck me.

I looked down, not for them but for Jack. He was invisible. Good. I knew where he was. He was just down the path, off to the right-hand side, rifle pointed at the spot where we hoped they’d land when they tripped over the rope. He would then jump forward and take them prisoner, hopefully without having to fire a shot. He
couldn’t
fire a shot.

That was the weak point of them coming in two groups. The first two guys had to be captured or neutralized in silence so that the last man, the one with Louise, wouldn’t know about the ambush.

The sound was getting louder. It wasn’t so much footfalls as foot drags. It sounded like the injured man was being hauled down the slope, and that a small avalanche of dirt and stones was being pushed down before them. It was getting louder, and I could hear voices, but it wasn’t words, it was moaning. That sent a chill up my spine.

A dark shape—two figures intertwined—came into view. A rush of stones preceded them, rolling right beneath my perch in the tree. The moaning got louder and there were German words that I could hear but didn’t understand.

They were getting closer and closer and closer. There was no way they wouldn’t hit the rope. As long as it held fast it would take out their feet. It would hold, wouldn’t it? Thank goodness it was Jack who tied the rope, although maybe I should have checked on it myself just to be sure.

They weren’t even trying to be quiet. I looked down through my feet as they passed underneath. The rope was only a few feet in front of them— They tumbled forward with a loud thud, and there was a muffled cry of pain as arms and legs and bodies hit the ground and slid forward!

“Don’t move, or you’re dead!” Jack said.

He was standing over top of the two men, and his rifle was aimed right at the head of the stronger man. Either they would listen or he would have to fire.

“Put your hands where I can see them,” Jack said.

In the thin light I saw one of the men pull forward one hand and then the other. The second man didn’t move. I didn’t know if he
could
move. Jack had them! Now all we had to do was get them off the path, tied and gagged, before the third man appeared. We were two-thirds of the way.

“Do not move!” yelled a voice, and I practically fell from the tree.

Almost directly beneath me was the third man—and he had Louise! We had been so focused on the two men, we hadn’t heard him coming down the path. In one hand
he held a pistol aimed at Jack, and his other arm was around Louise’s neck. I looked toward Jack. He still held the rifle on the men in front of him. Was he wondering if he could swing the rifle up and fire it? No, there was no way he could do it quickly enough—the man would shoot him. And even if Jack got off a shot, he might hit Louise.

“Do as you are told or you will die!” the man said. He was no longer yelling. He was speaking in perfect English with a German accent.

“If you shoot me, I shoot him,” Jack said. He held firm.