Look Behind You (The Order of the Silver Star) (12 page)

His eyes widened. “We do. And you are?”

“Cleopatra. He said he’d heard you’d probably be here sometime today and might need a contact. I can take care of this lady if you need to be on your way.”

“He heard?” But Matt couldn’t see how. The radios the Rangers were carrying were for emergency use only, and so far, he and Martinez hadn’t used theirs for fear of attracting attention from whatever spirits were following them.

Cleopatra nodded. “From Nimrod.”

Nimrod! The mystery deepened, but at least he had enough information to believe her now. “All right. Thanks.”

Cleopatra said something to the old lady in French and got a relieved reply. Then she looked back at Matt. “I’ve got some contacts who can help. We’ll take it from here.”

“Thanks again. Ma’am,” he added, touching his hat to the old lady again.

The old lady grabbed his hand.
“
Merci, monsieur. Merci beaucoup
.”

He smiled.
“Just doin’ my job, ma’am.”

She smiled back, squeezed his hand and patted it a couple of times, and finally let him go. He touched his hat to both ladies one last time before swinging back up into the saddle and riding away.

He was almost out of earshot when he heard the old lady ask Cleopatra, “
Qui était cet homme?
” and had to stifle a snort of laughter.
23

“Hi ho, Silver,” he said quietly to his horse, and the mare whinnied in amusement and leapt into a gallop.

#####

20
All right, what’s going on here? (Texas German)

21
Go away!

22
Yes, a little bit.

23
Who was that man?

#####

*****

Matt didn’t know how he could tell when he passed the edge of the cursed area as he rode through the suburbs of Paris. There was simply a sudden sense of relief that took him by surprise and let him breathe more freely. But that relief was short-lived, for night fell and brought with it a heavy fog that rolled in off the Seine. Silver, as he was now calling his horse, didn’t seem to mind it or even to be getting wet from it, but it made Matt uneasy. By the time he reached the rendezvous point and dismounted, the fog was so thick that he could hardly see anything, and every noise except his own breathing and Silver’s was muffled.

He wondered whether he ought to risk using the radio to call Hercules. But he had no way of knowing if there were unfriendly ears close at hand or how long it would take him to reach Hercules, so he decided against it. If Nimrod had somehow known Matt was going to be in Creil that afternoon, maybe he’d also predicted that Matt would be here now. So he waited.

And waited.

And—

“
Erinnert Dich ans Mason-Spiel, oder?
”
24
said a familiar voice with a Castell accent.

Matt jumped and spun—and there was Chris in a Luftwaffe uniform, grinning at him!

“
Was zum Teufel machste hier?!
”
25
Matt blurted out without thinking.

Chris’ smile never wavered, but the mischief went out of his green eyes as he switched to English. “The mighty hunter sends regards.”

Matt blinked. “W-wait—
you’re
Hercules?!”

Chris nodded and became serious. “We don’t have much time. El Gordo leaves for Wannsee in half an hour. If we hurry, we can capture him and the rest of the headquarters staff all at once.”

“Wannsee? Why the hell is he going to Wannsee? I thought the action was all in Berchtesgaden.”

“I don't know.” Chris looked downright grim. “All I know is, he’s been talking to Heydrich about something called the Final Solution… and I don’t think the problem they’re solving is y’all.”

Matt cursed and jumped back in the saddle, then held down a hand to help Chris up. “Let’s go.”

Chris pointed over his shoulder with his thumb. “Look, my car—”

“Trust me, Silver’s faster than your car, especially in this.”

“Silver? Seriously?” But Chris caught Matt’s hand and swung up behind him.

“Hell, after the day I’ve had, I wouldn’t be surprised if Tonto
and
Winnetou caught up with us. Where we headed?”

“Luxembourg Palace.”

Matt didn’t even have to tell Silver to go. She took off like a shot.

“What about the wall?” he asked as they thundered toward the Paris city limits.

“It’s not obvious, but it’s still there. I’m hearing a lot less birdsong these days. Pont Royal seems to be close to the eastern edge, and we’ll cross the Seine there.”

“All right, warm up your pitching arm and grab some of the bags out of that left saddlebag. We get close, throw one into the wall every mile or so, as far as you can.”

Chris shifted his leg and rummaged in the saddlebag. “What’s this bottle? You need it?”

“Yeah, good idea.”

Matt heard a muffled clink as Chris slid the bottle out and handed it forward. He accepted it carefully.

“Is that a wick in the top?”

“Yup.”

“You’re planning to use a
Molotov cocktail?
What the hell for?”

“You’ll see. Just get those bags ready to throw.”

Chris muttered something under his breath and obeyed.

#####

2
4
Reminds you of the Mason game, right?

25
What the devil are you doing here?! (Texas German)

#####

~~~~~

Chapter 6

Unexpected

May 10, 1941

As good as it was to see Matt again, Chris couldn’t help wondering whether his brother were quite all right after four long days of fighting through who knew what. Granted, they hadn’t seen each other since… well, before Dad had his stroke, but he didn’t remember ever seeing Matt so jumpy and on edge. He wasn’t usually one to make jokes as obvious as naming his horse “Silver” when he was on his own and on Ranger business, nor did he normally prefer to ride when he could drive, let alone trusting the horse so far as to have his hands completely off the reins while going at a full gallop. Never mind lobbing these beanbag-looking things at a wall of enchantments and whatever the Molotov (!!) was for—odd times probably called for odd measures, but still. Something was up with Matt.

It wasn’t long, however, before Chris saw why Matt had insisted on taking the horse rather than the car. Silver threaded her way through the streets of Paris with ease, despite the fog and lack of human direction, and she was
fast
. He didn’t realize just how fast until he noticed that they were riding between lanes of traffic, and even then the truth didn’t dawn on him until one of the cars they passed actually honked. Silver was passing moving vehicles like they were standing still!

That didn’t make sense. No horse should be able to travel that fast even in a short sprint, but Silver had been running flat out for a good ten minutes when the reality of the situation finally clicked for Chris. What on earth was going on?

He didn’t have very long to focus on that question, however, because Matt suddenly lit the wick in the Molotov. “Okay,” he called over his shoulder. “On my mark, throw one bag to our right every minute. Got it?”

“Right,” Chris returned and readied a bag to throw. He tried not to let the smell of the burning wick distract him, but it didn’t smell like any accelerant he knew.

“And… mark!”

Praying he didn’t hit anyone or break any windows, Chris hurled the bag into the fog and began counting. Exactly one minute later, he threw another. The third exploded in mid-air, but Matt and Silver didn’t seem to notice. So Chris stifled his qualms and kept throwing until Matt told him to hold up.

Thirty seconds after that, they clattered onto Pont Royale. Matt chanted something under his breath and held the Molotov ready until they were about halfway across the bridge, at which point he flung it in the general direction of the wall. Chris heard it shatter on some unseen obstacle—and with a mighty
whompf
, the entire cursed portion of the Seine seemed to catch fire. In shock, he turned to look over his shoulder, but they were two streets away and turning away from the wall almost before he could blink.

“That’s all we can do for now,” Matt stated, sounding stressed, as he picked up the reins. “Have to take down the rest after we get Fatso.”

“Listen, Matt—”

“Dammit, just shut up and hang on!”

So Chris shut up and hung on as Silver charged straight toward the north entrance of the palace, seemingly oblivious to the shouts and gunfire of the guards as she reared back and kicked the doors open. Once they were through the doors, the brothers slid off her back, and she used her back feet to kick the doors shut again… and bronze bars slammed shut across every exterior door and window in sight, locking down the entire building. The guards pounded on the doors and tried to shoot out a window, none of it to any avail.

As much as Chris’ mind was whirling, he was at least grateful for that much. Most of the personnel had already gone home, but some staff officers were still here, as were the communications crew. But no one was getting in, and no one was getting out. Now they could only hope they’d managed to catch Goering.

Matt ducked around Silver’s front, gave her shoulder a grateful pat, and pulled his rifle from its saddle holster and tossed it to Chris in one smooth motion. Chris caught it and used it to point out where there were rooms they needed to clear on each side of the foyer. Matt nodded once and then again toward someone coming out of a side room behind Chris.

“
Was ist—
” the officer began, but Chris leveling the rifle at him cut him off.

“Texas Rangers!” Matt bellowed. “
Hände hoch! Alle raus! Schnell!
”
26

Amazingly, that actually brought a few people running, so the brothers took opposite sides and moved as fast as they could to round everyone up before anyone could figure out what was going on and put up more than token resistance. Chris did hear Matt fire one shot in the communications room, but no one came out visibly injured, so he assumed that shot had been either to warn or to prevent someone from calling for help. Once the side rooms were clear, they herded their prisoners down opposite halls and into the foyer on the other side; Chris stood guard while Matt quickly checked the side rooms there, and then they forced everyone into the amphitheater and locked the door with a key Chris had stolen earlier in the week. Then they ran up opposite staircases and repeated the procedure on the second floor, but Chris didn’t wait for Matt to clear Goering’s suite before shoving people through the doors into the balcony section. There was only one person likely to be hiding in those rooms anyway, and he presumed it wouldn’t be difficult to get Goering in last, if he were even still there.

Chris had just shut the doors when the sounds of a scuffle caught his attention. He turned to see Matt grappling with Goering—and suddenly Goering managed to get a hand free, drew his Luger, pressed it against Matt’s jugular, and fired.

The world seemed frozen for one terrible moment. Chris saw Goering’s finger on the trigger. He heard the shot. He smelled the gunpowder. He couldn’t remember if Matt was wearing a vest, but with a neck shot, it didn’t matter. He
knew
he’d just lost his brother.

And then, before Chris could even cry out, Matt snatched the gun upward out of Goering’s hand with a wordless snarl and slammed it against Goering’s temple, sending the Reichsmarschall to the ground in an undignified, unconscious heap.

As Chris struggled to start breathing again, Matt stuck the Luger into his own gun belt and, after quickly searching Goering for other weapons or cyanide capsules, hauled him up by his lapels and started dragging him toward the theater. When Matt turned, Chris could see that he bore no worse an injury than a powder burn. Chris was too stunned to help Matt get Goering to the balcony doors or even to open a door for him, but Matt managed both before unceremoniously throwing Goering through the door, slamming it shut, and locking it. Then exhaustion seemed to overtake him, as he dragged himself over to one of the hall tables while pulling something small, flat, and round—the bullet—out from behind his collar. He slapped the bullet down on the tabletop and braced himself on the edge, letting his shoulders slump and his head fall forward.

In the process, something else fell out from behind his collar, though still attached to his neck: a gold necklace, with a green stone that seemed to be glowing faintly.

“What is that?” Chris asked quietly.

Matt wearily shook his head. “It’s classified.”

All of Chris’ shock and fear suddenly boiled over into anger. “What the hell do you mean, it’s classified?! Didn’t they tell you what kind of clearance I’ve got? I—”