Once Bauer was secured again, Cole felt like that was one less threat to worry about and had a change of heart about keeping watch. After the women had been discovered hiding upstairs, it seemed unlikely that the château itself would hold any additional surprises. After barring the kitchen door — which she hadn’t had time to do earlier before fleeing to the attic — Madame Jouret had assured him that the house was locked up tight.
Cole had no reason to doubt her. After all, the heavy shutters over the downstairs windows transformed the place into a fortress. They would awaken in plenty of time if someone tried to get in, because there was no way to do that quietly.
Cole gave a final glance around the room. Vaccaro was already snoring, thanks to the brandy. He’d had a lot more to drink than Cole.
The German had stretched out on a sofa, his boots hanging off one end, put his bound hands under him for a pillow, and now appeared to be asleep.
Only Lieutenant Rupert still seemed to be awake, tossing and turning on the floor — most likely thinking about that girl upstairs.
The fire crackled gently in the hearth, red embers glowing. He mused that if this was as bad as the war got, it wouldn’t be half-bad.
Cole wrapped himself in his blanket and closed his eyes.
Cole slept deeply, unfettered by dreams. He awoke to gray morning light filtering between the cracks in the shutters and through the gaps in the thick drapes. It wasn’t anything close to sunshine, but instead the gloom of another dreary winter day. That was all there seemed to be in Europe, one gray day after another.
He was just starting to wonder whether they would ever see the sunshine again. The winter was beginning to seem endless, and summer felt like some dim memory. He longed for a crisp winter day with the sun bright on the new-fallen snow and not a breath of wind.
Like most country people, Cole tended to be an early riser, up before dawn, but he had slept late in the relative luxury of the château drawing room. He was just as exhausted as anyone.
He sensed that something had awakened him, so he looked around the room. In the dim light, he saw that Bauer and Lieutenant Rupert were still slumbering, but not Vaccaro, which was something of a surprise.
The city boy was already up, grasping his rifle as he peered anxiously through a gap in the shutters.
“What the hell are you doing up?” Cole muttered.
Seeing that Cole was awake, Vaccaro whispered, “Country boy, we’ve got a problem.”
“Just one? That ain’t hardly worth mentioning.”
“Yeah, but it’s a big one.”
“What’s that?”
“We’ve got company.”
“The way you’re sayin’ that makes me think it ain’t the Rockettes.”
“It’s sure as hell not. Better take a look.”
Cole roused himself, crawling out from under the warm blankets. The fire had died out during the night, leaving the room cold. The morning air also held a lingering mustiness from the house, like an old book that has spent too long on a dusty shelf. That slight whiff of dampness added to the overall feeling of being surrounded by gloom.
He joined Vaccaro at the window.
“I got up to take a leak and decided to peek outside to see how the day was shaping up before I grabbed a few more winks,” Vaccaro explained. “That’s when I saw them.”
Cole looked. He spotted a group of men huddled at the edge of the forest, watching the house. It was still somewhat dark under the trees, so he retrieved his rifle to get a better look at them through the scope. He studied the soldiers, confirming what he already suspected.
Germans. A trio of them.
Something about them made it seem as if the Krauts had been out there awhile, maybe all night. They looked cold, stamping their feet, their breath making clouds in the morning air. Then he realized that the Kübelwagen was dusted in snow. He couldn’t see any tracks in the snowy ground either. Dammit, how long have they been out there?
Cole and Vaccaro exchanged worried glances. “We should wake the others,” Vaccaro whispered, his fingers tightening around his rifle. “Maybe we can all still get out of here without attracting attention.”
Cole shook his head, his gaze still on the Germans. “It’s too late for that. They’re close enough that they’ll see us if we leave.”
“So what do we do?” Vaccaro demanded, his voice low as he scanned the room, as if searching for any weapons they could use against the Krauts. But they had no mortars, no machine guns, just their rifles.
“We wait and see,” Cole replied, no hint of doubt in his voice. “We’ve been lucky so far. Maybe we’ll be lucky again.”
Cole watched the Germans through the crack, reassured that they couldn’t see him. The Krauts were watching the house as if determining what to do next. Maybe they were trying to decide whether the house was occupied by friend or foe.
He was glad to see that they hadn’t approached the house yet, and with any luck it was just a small patrol passing through and they would move on. The fact that they hadn’t done so yet made him a little nervous.
Move on now, he wanted to tell them. Ain’t nothin’ to see here.
“Those Krauts are gonna be disappointed if they think I’m about to invite them in for breakfast,” Cole said. “We’d best wake up the others.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Outside the ancient house, Hauptmann Messner and the two other Germans had grown impatient. They had been up since before the bitter winter dawn, waiting for their quarry to show itself.
The plan was a simple one — to catch Bauer and his escort as soon as they left the shelter of the château. They would take them by surprise and eliminate Bauer once and for all — and his American escorts along with him.
But the gray light grew and there was still no sign of any activity.
Dietzel had already scouted around the house as soon as there was sufficient light, putting Messner’s fears to rest that their quarry had somehow given them the slip. More snow had fallen during the night, partially covering the four sets of tracks that led to the house. There were no fresh tracks in the snow, which meant that no one had fled the château.
“Why don’t they come out?”
“Maybe they have seen us.”
Messner had to admit that once again Dietzel was likely correct. When they had stopped the Kübelwagen last night, they had not realized in the dark that it was within view of the house. That had been an unfortunate oversight. On the positive side, they could easily bring the machine gun mounted on the back of the vehicle to bear on the château or front lawn, as needed.
Perhaps they had lost the element of surprise, but no matter. Bauer and his escort couldn’t hide from them forever.
“They will have to come out sooner or later,” Messner said.
“Or they could fight,” Dietzel pointed out.
Messner thought about that. “In that case, perhaps the time has come to offer them a deal — their lives for Bauer’s. I doubt that the Americans will be willing to die for their German prisoner.”
From inside the château, Cole kept watching the Germans, wondering what they were up to and what they were waiting for. He ran through a few mental scenarios, none of them promising.
The Germans were too far away to tell much about them, but they appeared to be Wehrmacht troops wearing winter-white camouflage. Their Kübelwagen carried a mounted machine gun, giving the Germans a distinct advantage in firepower. Through the scope, he was surprised to notice that one of the Germans was also studying the château through the scope on his own rifle.