Cole turned and raced upstairs, taking the steps two at a time. Vaccaro followed and so did Bauer. He could hear both men pounding up the steps behind him.
Cole couldn’t help thinking, I hope to hell that Kraut doesn’t shoot us both in the back.
It had gone against Cole’s better judgment to cut Bauer free and let him have the revolver, but in this situation he was willing to take a chance. They needed every fighter they could get.
The German machine gun opened up, once again hammering the walls and windows. A flurry of bullets stitched across the front door like an insane woodpecker, sending wood chips flying.
But the machine gun was only a distraction. The Germans that Rupert had seen were trying to take advantage of the hail of fire to get closer to the château. They came at the house from the left, one man running forward as the other covered him, then repeating the process for the other man.
The problem was that they had to cross the open ground, both making clear targets against the snow.
Cole went to an upstairs window where the glass had already been blown out by the machine-gun fire, the shards poking from the frame like jagged teeth. The German crouched beside him.
Cole put his rifle through the window and took aim. Through the scope, both Germans sprang closer. They were out in the open with nowhere to hide. With luck he would be able to shoot both men.
Then came another burst from the machine gun. The gunner must have spotted Cole in the window because several rounds came through and struck the wall behind them, ricocheting down the hall with an unnatural whine that made his spine crawl.
“Scheise!” Bauer shouted, throwing himself flat.
It wasn’t an unreasonable reaction to being targeted by the machine gun. Cole found himself doing the same.
The gunner knew his business, firing in short, measured bursts. Finally, the firing stopped long enough that Cole dared to poke his head back up. The two Germans were out of sight, having managed to cross the open ground.
Now it was his turn to mutter “Scheise.” He reckoned that it was as good a swear word as any.
Where had those two Krauts gone to?
He realized that meant that they must have reached the front of the house. Pressed against the wall, they would have been out of sight of the defenders.
The machine gun hadn’t resumed firing, probably so the gunner wouldn’t hit his own men.
“Where did they go?” Vaccaro shouted. “I can’t see them.”
His question was answered when they heard the deep BOOM of a shotgun downstairs. She and Lena were stationed at the front windows. Did this mean that the Germans were trying to get in?
There was another BOOM.
“Dammit, Vaccaro, go help ’em!” Cole shouted.
“You got it,” Vaccaro replied, then flew down the stairs. Soon after, they heard a rifle shot, then another.
“Should we not help them?” Bauer wondered. He started to get up, but Cole pulled him back down. “Hold on, I’ve got another idea. You stay here.”
Cole ran to one of the bedrooms. He immediately found what he was looking for — a handheld mirror sitting on a dresser. He didn’t know if it belonged to Madame Jouret or Lena, not that it mattered.
What he really wanted was a grenade, but it hadn’t seemed necessary to bring any on their escort mission.
He hustled back to the window where he had left Bauer. The German saw the mirror in Cole’s hands and raised his eyebrows.
“You wanted a crack at these guys, so now is your chance,” Cole said. “If I hold the mirror for you, think you can get a shot at them with that pistol?”
Bauer smiled with understanding. “That is very clever, hillbilly.”
With his thumb, Bauer pulled back the hammer on the revolver, cocking the weapon.
“Now!”
Cole stuck the mirror out the window, trying to angle it so that Bauer could see the two Germans crouching out of sight at the front of the house.
“Tilt it down,” Bauer said.
Cole obliged. A moment later, the German officer leaned out the window and took a shot. There was a curse and a yelp of pain from below.
However, the machine gunner was being watchful and must have spotted the movement at the window. A burst of fire shattered what was left of the glass. Bullets smacked into the back wall of the hallway as Bauer and Cole tried to melt into the floor. Lucky for them, the exterior walls of the château were thick enough to stop any stray bullets.
Downstairs, a shotgun boomed again.
That was soon followed by a whoop of triumph from Vaccaro. “They’re running!”
Both Cole and Bauer looked out the window, weapons ready. They caught a glimpse of the two Germans headed for the trees, one of them limping badly. Apparently Bauer’s bullets had done some damage.
With the pistol, Bauer was quicker than Cole and got off a couple of shots, although at this distance there would be little hope of hitting anything. Cole was just getting the scope lined up on the limping soldier when a burst from the machine gun hit the window. Cursing, he ducked, but he soon found himself covered with bits of glass and shredded wood.
The attack had been repulsed, but the Germans had gotten away.
“That damn machine gun,” Cole said.
“There will not be much ammunition on the Kübelwagen,” Bauer said. “They may not have enough for another attack.”
“If we ain’t dead first.”
After brushing themselves off, Cole and Bauer went downstairs. They found Madame Jouret reloading her shotgun. The lady of the house seemed calm, cool, and collected, not at all shaken up by the attack as she slipped two fresh shells into place. Cole felt reassured.
“We ran them off,” Vaccaro reported.
“They’ll be back,” Cole said.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
In the lull that followed the assault on the château, more bread and cheese were produced by Madame Jouret, along with a bottle of red wine.
“I could get used to this kind of war,” Vaccaro said. “You know, a war where we sleep on some cushions instead of the ground, there’s a fireplace to keep warm, then decent food and some wine in between gun battles.”
“Don’t get too comfortable,” Cole warned him. “The Krauts will be back. They may be more determined the next time around.”
“What about the other Americans out there?”
“Who knows. I reckon that they decided to sit this one out. Maybe they wanted to see what happened, let us wipe each other out, and then swoop in to pick up the pieces.”
“The pieces being our prisoner.”
“Seems like it,” Cole agreed.
They had gotten off easy during the attack. The only person to be wounded had been Lieutenant Rupert, who had rushed to help the women defend the front of the house. Seeing Lena being attacked had ignited a fury inside him that he didn’t know he had.
A bullet had grazed his arm, but he didn’t appear to mind, considering that Lena had insisted that he take his shirt off and was now bandaging his arm carefully. Like a typical Brit in a land where rain was more common than sunshine, his bare arms and chest looked milky white. However, judging by his well-toned muscles, he also appeared to keep himself quite fit, a fact that didn’t seem to be lost on Lena.
“Was it really necessary for her to take his shirt off?” Vaccaro wondered. “I guess it’s a good thing that he didn’t get shot in the ass. You know that thing has got to be white as a lily.”
“You’re just jealous, is all,” Cole said.
Bauer hadn’t had much to say. Maybe he was having second thoughts about shooting at his own kind. It had been good shooting, all the same.