Chapter 8 Chapter VII

On December 8, 1940, Banner Captain Eichel and his adjutant Wenter (in plainclothes, of course) arrived in Marseilles, and they asked the Marseilles police station to hand over Lessepton and Bergi to them.They immediately took the two back to Paris afterwards.On December 10, 1940, the Paris Security Service issued a wanted arrest warrant to various branches.On December 13 of the same year, the events described below took place in a room of the Luthercia Hotel in Paris, the headquarters of the German intelligence service.Captain Blaney of the Third Division of the German Intelligence Service received a wanted order from their competitor's security service.It turned out that a man named Pierre Hunnebert was wanted.Why?The arrest warrant only vaguely stated that he had betrayed the security guards to the French authorities.Captain Blaney glanced again at Pierre Hunébert, with his long face.Dark brown eyes, short black hair.He is about 1.75 meters tall and has a slender build.Often plays with a gold pocket watch.Features like cooking.Well, I like to cook.Captain Blanier rubbed his forehead.That time was not...

It was a stormy night at half past ten on December 28, 1940, and Thomas was listening to the news in French on the London radio station.He listened to Radio London every night, and of course it was impossible for a man in his situation not to keep abreast of what was going on, and he listened to it from Santa's bedroom.His beautiful girlfriend is already in bed.She has her hair coiled high on top of her head.No eye circles, rouge, or lipstick.Thomas liked her best that way.He sat on the edge of the bed, and Santa gently stroked his hand.Both of them were listening intently to the news on the radio. "...French resistance to the Nazis has increased. A German troop train was blown up yesterday afternoon in South Triange, near Farades. The locomotive and three carriages were completely destroyed. At least twenty Five German soldiers were killed and more than a hundred were seriously injured." Santa's hand was still stroking Thomas's. "...the Germans immediately retaliated and shot thirty French hostages..." Santa's hand stopped moving. "...But the struggle did not stop, not only did it not stop, but this is the beginning of the struggle. A powerful underground organization is following and hunting the Germans day and night. According to reliable sources, the Marseilles resistance organization recently seized A large amount of gold, foreign exchange and valuables were stolen. These properties will provide sufficient funds for the continuous development and further expansion of the struggle. The incident of Farades blowing up the train will definitely happen again..." Thomas' face suddenly turned pale.He couldn't take it anymore, he went over and turned off the radio.Santa lay on the bed and watched him silently.Suddenly Thomas felt he couldn't bear even Santa's gaze.Santa stared at him without moving.Thomas said weakly: "You are right, Bastian and you are right. We really shouldn't give those things to them, we should keep them for ourselves. Your intuition is very keen. If we had tricked Simon and The French Secret Service would never have caused such a catastrophe."

"You have to know that none of us have ever owed an innocent life debt." Santa said softly.Thomas nodded.He said: "I realized that I had to change my life. My thinking was old and outdated. My ideas of honor and loyalty were wrong and dangerous. Santa, do you remember your Do you have any suggestions for me?" Santa stood up suddenly and said, "Being my partner, is that what you mean?" "From today, Santa. I'm your partner. No pity, no sympathy, I've had enough. Come on, let's get the booty!" "Honey, you talk like me now!" she said, throwing her arms around Thomas and kissing him hard.

This shower of kisses was like the seal of a rare covenant that had just been made.This is a cooperative relationship between two people, and people in Marseilles who are affected by it still often talk about various anecdotes about the two people in those years.Because during the period from January 1941 to August 1942, criminal cases in southern France flooded everywhere. At eleven o'clock in the morning on January 14, 1941, a gentleman of about forty-five years old walked into the jewelry store of Marius Pisoradier.He was wearing an expensive leather jacket that a rich man in the city could have, with leggings, a pair of decent gray and black striped trousers, and of course he was holding an umbrella in his hand.Pisoradie saw, well, a long, white, noble face.Well, very stylish!Too much money to spend.Descendants of ancient nobles.Yes, it was the jeweler's favorite customer... Pisoradie was the only one in the shop.He rubbed his hands and nodded good morning to the customer who came in.The very wealthy gentleman responded to his greeting with a weary nod.Hanging his umbrella on the edge of the counter again.When he spoke, there was a hint of dialect in his accent.Yes, Pisoradie thought, sometimes nobles speak like this on purpose, in order to prove their social awareness.Great!At this moment the gentleman said: "I want to buy some jewelry from you. The people in the Bristol Hotel told me that you have a lot of jewelry here, don't you?"

"We have the most beautiful jewelry in Marseilles, monsieur. What would you like?" "Well, here's a jeweled bracelet or something..." "Oh, that's it. We have plenty here, at various prices. I wonder how much you want for one?" "Here's one, um, the price is between two and three million." The gentleman yawned lazily while talking.Hey, thought Pisoradie, what's the matter this morning?The God of Wealth is here!He approached a glass case containing jewels, unlocked it, and said: "Of course there are very beautiful bracelets at this price." Pissoradie selected nine bracelets inlaid with precious stones and put them on a black velvet tray. superior.Then he took the plate and walked towards the guest.These nine bangles shone with colorful lights like a rainbow.The gentleman held the bracelet and looked at it for a long time.Then he chose one and placed it in his narrow, manicured hand.It was a very handsome bracelet, with very expensive flat bars on the sides, and six two-carat stones on it. "How much is this one?"

"Three million, sir." "Three million is too expensive," said the gentleman.Pisoradie knew from the first moment that the man was an experienced jeweler.Only laymen do not counter-offer.So the two of them bargained like a seesaw.Just then, the door of the jewelry store opened.Pissoradie looked up, and saw another gentleman enter the door.Not as richly dressed as the first, but not bad.Appropriate dress and manners.Fishbone coat.Leg wraps, top hat, umbrella.Pissoradier was about to ask the gentleman who had just come in to wait for a while, but the gentleman said first: "I just need to buy a watch strap." The umbrella of a gentleman in a leather jacket also hangs by the counter.The two customers did not greet each other, as if they did not know each other.And at this very moment, Marius Pisoradie was, so to speak, finished. . . .

Common characteristics of action, common means of committing crimes.People in the south of France have quietly spread the word that a special underground organization is active here.It didn't take long for the police to start acting, trying to crack down on this underground organization.They thought they had found a clue, but they didn't know they had fallen into Thomas Levin's trap again.Thomas came up with a bait and switch trick to draw the attention of the police elsewhere, making them believe that the thief who stole the jeweler was a member of the Bald Gang. The leader of the bald gang, one of the oldest bandits in Marseille, is Dante Villefort, a Corsican. Because he is bald, the gang he leads is called the bald body.Now, can the bald man not hold a grudge?Later, the bald man found out that the reason for Santa's behavior was that she had a think tank in her gang, and it was said that this think tank was Santa's obedient lover, so the bald man decided to care about this think tank.

Thomas Levine lived in the old part of Marseille until one stormy night in September 1942.He lived with Santa Tessier, and the hate and love between the two were growing.Every time the pounce is successful, this beautiful wild cat will passionately throw herself into the arms of her lover to make out.The same was true of the sortie in January 1941.That time they pretended to be creditors and sold the Bristol Hotel to German buyers twice, making a lot of money.But every time after making out, there would be an upside-down quarrel.The same is true this time.Santa got angry and roared: "Don't be so smug! It's disgusting to see your arrogant smiling face! What are you doing! Do you think you did it alone? We are all wood, idiots, Only you are a capable person! I tell you the truth, I don’t want to see that sour smile on your face anymore! I never want to see you again, go now, get out of here!” Thomas left Santa, went to His friend Bastian.But before Thomas arrived at Bastian's house, Santa called again: "I have hydrocyanic acid, sleeping pills, and pistols here. If you want to come back immediately, I will come to collect me tomorrow morning." dead body."

"Didn't you say you never want to see me again?" "Dog! You damned dog, if you don't come back, I can't live anymore..." So Thomas hurried back to Rose Knight Street to reconcile.However, after getting back together, Thomas had to rest for two days before he could complete the task he set for himself to punish evil and promote good.Punish the evil while promoting the good, and punish the big evil to make a lot of money. The sun and the moon fly like a shuttle, time flies like an arrow, and it is the golden autumn of 1942 in a blink of an eye.One day in July, Dante Villefort, nicknamed the bald man, called a meeting with his followers at his residence at 4 Rue Mazenaud in Marseilles. "Gentlemen!" said Dante Villefort grimly. "I've had enough. Santa and the others have bullied us too much. Not only did she interfere with the Portuguese business, but recently they have disturbed us." A few big deals! We have to think of a way. Santa has already screwed us up enough. Now there's a disaster, that bastard Pierre. Is it worth it!" After hearing what he said, the minions below all yelled in agreement. "Get rid of that guy!" Someone suggested. "What an idiot!" Villefort said angrily, "Kill it, kill it. Can't think of anything else? Then our relationship with the Gestapo is useless? I heard that this guy is called Unebel. And the Gestapo is looking for a man named Unebel. If... wouldn't you be rich?"

On the night of September 17, 1942, with wind, rain, lightning and thunder, Santa and Thomas had planned to go to the cinema to watch a movie.Now I have to stay at home and not go anywhere.They drank and listened to records together, Santa's eyes showed watery tenderness, and she snuggled up to Thomas docilely. "What have you made of me..." She whispered softly in Thomas's ear: "Sometimes I don't even recognize myself..." Thomas said: "Santa, we have to leave Here. I have bad news. Marseilles is no longer safe, and the Germans are approaching." "Let's go to Switzerland," Santa said. "We've got enough money there. Let's live on."

"Yeah, honey," Thomas said, kissing Santa.Santa said softly with tears in her eyes: "Ah, my dear... I have never felt so happy. There is no need for eternity, nothing can be eternal. But if there is a period of time, even if it is very short How wonderful it would be to have such a happy life..." Afterwards, Santa wanted to drink again, and wanted to drink wine. "The shops are closed now." Thomas thought for a moment. "But maybe you can buy wine at the train station..." He said, standing up and getting dressed.Santa didn't want to put him in trouble.Just say: "It's windy and rainy outside... Are you crazy..." "No, no. But I must let you drink wine tonight. Because you love wine, and because I love you." Suddenly tears filled Santa's eyes.She beat her knees with her fists and cursed: "Damn it, why are you so stupid! Tell you not to go! I love you, I'm going to cry..." "I'll be right back." Thomas said and hurried out. Thomas was wrong.He left the house on the Rue Rosenkavalier and fell into the hands of the Gestapo before he even reached the train station.How strange, I'm almost completely used to living with Santa, Thomas thought as he walked.I can't imagine how I got along without her.Her madness, her bestial appetite for men, all gave me great pleasure.What makes me happy is her pride, her keen intuition.Thomas walked across an empty square to a narrow street.There was an old-fashioned movie theater on this street, where Thomas used to go to see movies with Santa.A black Proot sedan was parked at the gate of the cinema.Thomas didn't notice that there were several dark shadows following him.He's thinking about himself... I need to have a good talk with Santa.There is no doubt that the Germans will go to occupy the non-occupied areas of France.So Santa and I must go to Switzerland.To leave as soon as possible!Switzerland had no Nazis, no wars.We can live in peace... The two shadows in front of him are getting closer and closer.The two shadows behind him also got closer and closer.Then the black car suddenly started.And Thomas Levin was still so absorbed in his own affairs that he was completely oblivious to the movement in the street.When the two men suddenly stopped in front of him, he didn't think the worst at first.The two men, both wearing raincoats, were French.One of them said, "Good evening, sir. What time is it?" Thomas held the umbrella with one hand, and with the other hand reached into his vest pocket and pulled out his beloved pocket watch.He popped off the watch cover.At this moment, the two shadows behind him also came to him. "It's eight o'clock right now..." Before he could finish speaking, he was kicked hard on the knee... "Bastian! Bastian, wake up, you lazy bastard!" Olive, the fat owner of the Papa Hotel, shouted vigorously into the room behind the hotel.Santa, the most loyal and reliable companion, woke up suddenly. He turned over and lay on his back on the bed.He held his head and complained, "Are you crazy? Why did you wake me up?" A few hours ago, Bastian made a bet with the cripple to see who could drink, and he was woken up after a short sleep.He moaned and said, "I'm not sober yet. I'm in a terrible pain..." Olive went to his bed and shook him vigorously. "Santa's call, I need you urgently. Hurry up, your friend Pierre is missing!" Hearing these words, Bastian immediately woke up.He jumped out of bed and stumbled into the phone booth.He grabbed the phone and quickly asked, "Santa, what's going on?" When he heard Santa's miserable and desperate cry, his heart was about to break.He has never seen Santa so panicked: "Bastian, thank God you are here, you are still there. I can't do it... I have been running on the street for hours... all over the city It's gone...I'm exhausted...I'm done...Oh, God, Bastian, Pierre is gone!" Bastian wiped the sweat from his forehead and said to Olive who followed him : "Give me a glass of cognac, quickly..." Then he hurriedly said into the microphone: "Speak slowly, Santa. Calm down..." Santa told the story again.It is now two o'clock in the morning.Pierre left her at eight o'clock in the evening to buy wine, but he never came back.Santa was crying.Her voice trembled violently: "I've been to the train station. I've been to all the hotels. I've also been to the pier below... I thought maybe he ran into one of you on the way , forced to drink, drunk and unable to come back, men are like this sometimes..." "where are you now?" "At the Old Sailor's Cafe." "Don't go, just wait there for me. I'll wake up the horse and the others. Everyone. We'll be at your place in half an hour." Bastian heard Santa's voice so loud. Faintly, as if she was speaking on the moon: "Bastian, if something happens to him, then I don't want to live anymore..." Several days of searching were fruitless.Not a trace of Thomas Levin was found.Santa was mentally and physically broken, and for weeks she was bedridden. It was not until October 28 that the situation changed.At noon that day a young man drank at the Café Sintra, one of the two most famous cafés in the Old Quarter, and when he got drunk he began to talk.He said: "Damn it, I'm telling you all about that Pierre Hunébert, you bastards!" It happened that someone from Santa's gang was drinking there that day, so he immediately notified Baba stian.Bastian quickly went to invite the cripple again.They went to the Café Sintra together, sat at the table of the drunk, and made friends with him by talking to each other.The man couldn't stand their flattery, and completely let down his vigilance.He said his name was Émile Marot, and he was from Grenoble.He complained vaguely: "He lied to us, the son of a bitch! He promised us twenty thousand first..." "What are you guys doing?" Bastian asked while handing Marot another glass of soju. "Tell us to put that Hunébert in the Préotte car. When it's over, damn it! We're only given ten thousand..." "What a shame! Who's lying to you, man?" Bastian put an arm around the drunk's head.The drunk suddenly narrowed his eyes and asked, "Well, what does this have to do with you?" Bastian exchanged glances with the cripple.Bastian said: "Just to ask. Come, Emile, let's have a drink..." They really got the young man from Grenoble drunk.At last he collapsed under the table like a sack, and they carried him out of the cafe on their backs. She was still lying on the bed with a high fever and her face was haggard.Bastian and the cripple put the drunk Marot on the couch, and went to the dormitory to report what they had encountered to Santa.Bastian said: "Leave it to me when he wakes up. I'll tell him to spit out everything within ten minutes of this doll." Santa shook his head wearily.She repeated something Thomas had said to her in the past: "The best weapon is not fists, it's cash." "what?" "Isn't this guy drinking to drown his sorrows because he's underpaid? So let's give him more money. Go, call Dr. Buhler, and tell him to give him an injection to wake him up." The dentist came .An hour later Émile Marot woke up.He sat on a chair in front of Santa's bed.Standing on either side are Cripple and Bastian.Santa was lying on the bed with a large stack of franc notes in his hand as a fan to cool the air.Marot couldn't control his tongue, and he stammered: "They took him to the north. They took him away that night. To the border line. There's the Gestapo there. . . Don't fight!" He said. There was a scream as Bastian lifted him up and slapped him across the face. "Bastian!" Santa stopped the angry giant.Santa's face had turned ashen-pale, only his eyes, bloodshot with fever, were alive.She said: "Don't hit him...I need to know which bastard is behind the scenes..." She yelled at Marot: "Quickly tell me, who ordered it?" "It's bald!" "Dante Villefort?" "Yes, he asked us to do it... Hunébert is too dangerous for him..." Tears flowed down Santa's face like a spring.She sobbed for a moment, then suddenly said in a cold, commanding tone: "Take the money, Marot. Get out of here! But you tell that bald man. There's no mercy left after that. For what he did I want to kill him. I want to kill him with my own hands. No matter where he hides, I will find him. I swear I won’t kill him, I swear I won’t be human!” Santa took the oath seriously.It's a pity that Santa and her organization have a lot of problems to solve right now, and they can't spare the energy to solve the bald man's matter for a while. On November 8, 1942, the U.S. Department of Defense announced that the land, sea, and air forces of the United States and the United Kingdom had begun to land on the coast of North Africa in France the night before. The commander of the Allied forces was Lieutenant General Eisenhower.On November 11, the German Wehrmacht Command announced that in order to defend French territory and resist the US and British invasion forces that are about to land in North Africa, the German army crossed the border early this morning and entered the French non-occupied zone. The prison of Fresnes is eighteen kilometers from Paris. This medieval building has three main buildings.Each main building has numerous side buildings, and the whole set of buildings is surrounded by high walls.There are no residents near the prison, and there are a few twisted dead trees on a large piece of barren land.The first main building housed Germans, including political prisoners and deserters.The second main building held resistance fighters, both German and French.The prisoners in the third building were all French.The head of the prison was a captain of the German reserve army.The staff are not all nationalities.There were French guards as well as German ones.These were all elderly junior officers from Bavaria, Saxony, and Thuringia.The guards in Wing C of Building 1 are all Germans.This wing was reserved exclusively for the Paris Security Service and was lit day and night.Prisoners were not allowed to take walks in the courtyard.In order to avoid the eyes and ears of the outside world, the Gestapo adopted a simple method. All the prisoners in Wing Building C were not included in the roster of Fresnes Prison.The prisoners here are all ghosts of the dead, they don't really exist anymore... In the early morning of November 12th, Thomas Levin sat motionless on the wooden bed in cell sixty-seven in Wing C, in a daze.He was haggard and pale, with sunken cheeks.He was wearing an old prison jacket that was long and bulky, and he was shivering because there was no heating in the cell.He's been in this dirty, smelly cell for seven weeks.From the first day, he waited for someone to interrogate him, and people were going crazy.Thomas tried to get in touch with the German guards.He wanted to bribe the guards to improve his food.It was all in vain, and there was still only cabbage soup every day.He tried to ask someone to take a letter to Santa quietly.Why don't they always come and take him to the wall and shoot him?Every morning at four o'clock, they have to go to the cell to pick up people.Then there would be the clatter of boots, orders being given, and the cries of those being dragged away.If the prisoners had been shot, the shots would have been heard.If it is hanged, then nothing will be heard.Can't hear anything most of the time, silent... Thomas was sitting in the cell, when suddenly he heard a man in leather boots walking towards his cell, and the door was kicked open with a bang.At the door stood a German sergeant and two burly men in uniforms from the security department. "Is it Hunébert?" "yes." "Come with us, interrogation!" Finally the wait came.Thomas thought it was finally time.He was taken into the yard where a windowless coach was parked.A security man pushed Thomas through the back door of the car.As soon as you enter the door, there is a very narrow aisle.There are several small doors on both sides of the aisle, and inside each door is a small cell, and each small cell can barely squeeze a prisoner.Thomas got into the car and was wheeled into such a small cell.Judging by the noise, other small cells in the car were also full of prisoners.An unpleasant smell of sweat came to the nostrils.There are no lights in the car, which makes people feel horrible.The prison van kept bumping on the road full of bomb craters.After about half an hour, the car stopped.Thomas heard footsteps and cursing.Then someone opened his cell: "Come out!" Thomas got out of the prison van, so weak that he couldn't even walk steadily.He saw at a glance where he was.This is the boulevard Faure, a pretty street in Paris.Thomas knew that the Security Service had occupied several buildings here. The security man led Thomas through the vestibule of Room Eighty-Four and into a study.There were two people sitting in the study, both in uniform.One of them was short, red-faced, and easy-talking.The other was pale and sickly.The former was the banner captain Walter Eichel, and the latter was his adjutant Fritz Winter. Thomas walked towards them without saying a word.The person from the security office straightened up and finished his report, then exited the room.The captain of the banner asked in stammering French: "Here, Hunébert. How about a glass of champagne?" Thomas's stomach turned, but he still said: "Thank you, I won't drink. Unfortunately, I don't have any bottoms in my stomach. Can’t drink.” Thomas’ French answer was not fully understood by the flag captain Eichel.So Winter translated the words for him.After listening to Winter's translation, Eichel laughed.Winter said: "I think we can talk to this gentleman in German, can't we?" When Thomas entered the room, he saw a file on a small table, and the name on the cover was Hunebel.He thought there was no need to deny it. "Yes, I speak German too." "Great, great. Maybe you are still our compatriot?" The flag captain pointed his index finger at Thomas and asked, "Huh? Isn't it? You little rascal! Tell me!" He took a puff of cigarette, Spray the smoke in Thomas' face.Thomas said nothing."Monsieur Hunnebert, or something else," said the captain of the banner with a low countenance. "Perhaps you thought it was fun for us to lock you up for interrogation. You may know something terrible about us, yes." Right? But I want to tell you that it is a last resort to do this kind of business. Mr. Unebel, the Germans are not suitable for this kind of thing.” Eichel nodded sadly and continued: “However, this is the country’s The needs of the nation. We have sworn to the Führer that, on the day of final victory, our nation will assume leadership over the peoples of the world. This cannot be done without preparation. It will require the combined efforts of all of us Together, we will give our all.” "You're also among them." Adjutant Winter added. "what?" "You once lied to us. You used gold jewelry and foreign exchange in Marseilles, Yunebel." The flag captain sneered a few times in his throat and said: "Don't deny it, we all know it. I must say that you did a good job, Smart lad." "Because you are a clever young man, please tell us your real name and surname now, and where all those things of Leisepton and Belgie have gone." Winter said softly . "And who are your accomplices?" Eichel said, "Of course you should talk about it. We have occupied Marseilles now, and we will be able to arrest your accomplices immediately." Thomas remained silent. "Huh?" Eichel urged.Thomas shook his head. He had expected these questions to be asked. "You don't want to talk?" "I don't want to." "Everyone who comes to us will tell!" Eichel's easy-going attitude suddenly disappeared.He put away his smile and yelled sharply: "You bastard! I think you are toasting and not eating fine wine!" He stood up and threw the cigarette into the fireplace, and then said to Winter: "Take it down and see if he can say it." speak." Winter led Thomas down into a very hot basement, where he called for two large men in plain clothes.They tied Thomas to the hot water boiler and made him talk.For three days in a row, the procedure was the same every day.He was taken from Fresnes to Paris in a prison van, tortured in the basement for interrogation, and then sent back to the cold and wet cell. Around eight o'clock on December 12, 1942, Thomas was brought into Mr. Eichel's office again.He saw a man he didn't know standing next to Captain Banner, tall and thin with white hair.The man was wearing the officer's uniform of a colonel in the Wehrmacht, with many medals on his chest, and was holding a file in his hand.Peeking out, Thomas saw a secret order written on the cover.Eichel had a very unhappy expression on his face. "That's him, Mr. Colonel." He muttered the words in his throat and coughed. "I'll take him right away," said the colonel, who wore many decorations. "Since you have a secret order, of course I can't stop you from taking him away. Mr. Colonel. Please sign here and make a handover." At this time Thomas felt dizzy, and everything around the room was spinning.He stood there unsteadily in his shabby prison uniform.While breathing hard, he recalled what a philosopher once said: "Everything that happens in our century is unpredictable..." Thomas followed the white-haired colonel in handcuffs to the street outside a large Wehrmacht limousine.Thomas sat beside the colonel.They drove through downtown Paris, which was the same after the occupation.France seems to think that being occupied by the German army is not a big deal.The street is still very lively.There are modern girls everywhere, wealthy wives, busy men, and occasionally a few clumsy, rustic, anxious German fellows wandering here and there in the crowd.The Colonel did not speak until he reached his destination, the suburb of the Villa Saint-Cloud.Now it was almost time to arrive, the colonel said: "I heard that you like cooking very much, Mr. Levin." He was stunned when he heard the colonel call his real name Thomas.Thomas, who had been tortured for several weeks, had become particularly suspicious.What does the colonel mean?mean what?Another new trick?He looked sideways at the officer beside him, but he looked kind and intelligent, with thick eyebrows and a hooked nose, and a very emotional mouth.So what!This does not mean that he really understands feelings.Don't many murderers in our motherland also like to listen to Bach's music!So Thomas replied, "I don't understand what you're talking about." "Yes, yes. Of course you understand what I'm talking about," said the colonel. "I'm Colonel Werther of the Military Intelligence Service in Paris. I can save your life. It's up to you." At this time, the car stopped, and in front of it was a very high wall that surrounded a large area of ​​land.The driver honks three times.A heavy door opened, but no one came to open it.The car drove inward and stopped in front of a villa with yellow walls and green windowsills. "Hands up, please," said the colonel who called himself Werther. "why?" "So let me take off your handcuffs. How can you cook with handcuffs. If you don't mind, I want to try the best fried veal in the world. I will take you to the kitchen . Nanette will help you, she is the maid here." "The best in the world," Thomas repeated feebly.He felt dizzy again as Colonel Werther removed the handcuffs for him. "That's right, it's the first class," said the colonel.I'm alive.Thomas thought, still breathing.What kind of person are they going to make me into?He regained his sanity and said, "Okay, let's make some stuffed eggplants." Half an hour later, Thomas began to explain how to make eggplants for Nanette.Nanette was a very handsome brunette in a black tights.A clean white apron was tied around the wicker-thin waist.Thomas sat reclined on the kitchen table beside Nanette.Colonel Wirth withdrew from the kitchen, it didn't matter, the kitchen windows were all barred.Nanette was busy going back and forth beside Thomas.Once her bare arm brushed against Thomas' cheek, and her round buttocks touched his arm again.Nanette was a good French girl, and she could see the poor prisoner before her.For despite his long torture, Thomas' appearance had not changed much.If you pay attention, you will see that this is a real man. “唉，拿涅特。”末了托马斯唉声叹气地说：“我得请您原谅。您这么漂亮这么年轻，要是在平时我也不会这副狼狈相。我不行了，我垮了……” “先生，您真可怜。”拿涅特轻轻地说，飞快地吻了托马斯一下。同时她那美丽的脸颊上涌起了红晕。 他们在一间很大的房间里吃饭，坐在这间屋子里可以看见外面的花园。现在上校穿了一身便服，一件剪裁得非常漂亮的法兰绒西装。拿涅特来回为他们两人上菜递酒。她那充满同情的目光老是在这个穿着又脏又皱的囚衣而言谈举止却仍然像个英国贵族一样的男人身上转。他不得不用左手拿叉子吃，因为右手有两个手指还缠着绷带。拿涅特把夹心茄子端上桌，维尔特说：“好手艺，真是好手艺，列文先生。这上面是用什么东西煎的，可以告诉我吗？” “用的是揉过的乳酪，上校先生。您找我有什么事？”托马斯吃得很少。他觉得饿了几个星期之后不能一下子吃太多，那样会使胃的负担过重。维尔特上校吃得可香呢：“我听别人说您是个原则性很强的人。您宁可让他们打死也不给保安处讲任何事情，宁死也不愿为这些狗杂……这个组织办事。” "yes." “但是您愿不愿意为卡纳里斯的组织办事呢？”上校又挟了一块茄子。托马斯没有正面回答上校的问题。他反倒给上校提了一个问题：“您是怎样把我从艾歇尔那儿弄出来的？” “呵，很简单。我们谍报局有个很不错的上尉叫布莱尼尔。他对您的情况一直都很关心。您在各方面都表现出过人的才干，列文先生。”托马斯垂下头。“不必过份谦虚了！布莱尼尔发现保安处把您抓起来关进了弗雷斯内斯监狱，我们就想出了一个小把戏……” “小把戏？”维尔特指了指窗边桌上放的那个封面上写着密令字样的卷宗。“小把戏就是从保安处那儿领走犯人的办法。我们根据一些过去的间谍案重新编造了一个新的并不存在的间谍案。然后再用打字机写上一些证词上去。签了许多名字盖上许多印章，这样效果很好。在那些新编写的证词中比如就有人说在南特地区发生的一系列爆炸事件都与一个叫皮埃尔·于内贝尔的有关系。诸如此类的等等。” 这时拿涅特端来了煎小牛肉片，她向托马斯投去充满爱怜的一瞥。在离开之前又默默无声地为托马斯把牛肉切成小片。维尔特上校笑着说：“我刚才讲到哪儿啦？对啦，小把戏。我们把新档案编造完毕，就去找艾歇尔，问他保安处是否抓了一个叫皮埃尔·于内贝尔的人。我故意装出傻头傻脑的样子。他毫不在意地说有的关在弗雷斯内斯。这时候我就把我的新卷宗给他看。卡纳里斯签过字的，希姆莱盖过章的。艾歇尔把这份卷宗看完，终于明白了他手里抓了一个对国家至为重要的间谍于内贝尔，这样一来嘛，剩下的就无非是办移交手续这些事了……” “可是为什么要把我弄出来，上校先生？您要我干什么？” “想要您给我做一个天底下最高级的煎小牛肉片。好吧说正经的，列文先生。我们需要您，我们有些问题只有像您这样的人才能解决。” “我恨谍报工作。”托马斯说着想起了桑塔和巴斯蒂安，想起了他所有的朋友。他越想越痛心：“无论哪种保密工作我都恨。我看不起这类工作。”维尔特上校说：“现在是一点半，四点钟我约好了要到路德契亚饭店去找卡纳里斯海军上将汇报工作。他想同您谈谈。您可以同我一道去。如果您愿意为我们工作的话，我们就有充分理由把您从保安处的魔爪下解救出来。要是您不愿意为我们工作的话，那我就没有办法了。只好再把您交给艾歇尔……”托马斯愣愣地望着他。五秒钟的时间过去了，他仍然没有说话。“怎么样？”维尔特上校问道。 “前滚翻！”阿多尔夫·比塞朗上士在巨大的体操房里大声地吼着。托马斯·列文上气不接下气地朝前翻了一个跟头。“后滚翻！”阿多尔夫·比塞朗上士又吼道。托马斯·列文上气不接下气地朝后翻了一个跟头。跟着托马斯一道操练的还有六个德国人，一个挪威人，一个意大利人，一个乌克兰人和两个印度人，那两个印度人在翻跟头的时候还缠着头巾。他们的教规可严呐。 比塞朗上士穿了一套德国空军制服。他已经五十四岁了，一张瘦削苍白的脸象一堆干柴，动辄就火冒三丈。他一张嘴就要把人吓一大跳，一张豹子嘴满口牙齿都补上了灰黑色的锌。比塞朗上士总是没时间闭上他那张大嘴，白天要张开骂人，夜里要张开打鼾。比塞朗两年前死了老婆，留下一个正值豆蔻年华如花似玉的女儿，比塞朗的工作地点在帝国首都柏林西北面约九十五公里的跳伞训练场。最令比塞朗上士气恼的就是他要训练的人，都是些高深莫测的看不透摸不准的家伙，也不知道这些家伙究竟接受了什么样的任务。既有德国人，也有外国人，都是些讨厌的便衣人员。 “前滚翻！”又名让·列布朗，又名皮埃尔·于内贝尔，又名欧根·威尔特力的托马斯·列文朝前翻了个跟头，当时的记录上写的时间是一九四三年二月三日。那天天气很冷，布兰登边界地区上面的天空就像一块灰布那么阴沉。天空中不停地轰响着飞得很低的教练机的马达声。 托马斯·列文，这个和平主义者，这个热爱生活、口味很高的烹调大师，这个崇拜女性、厌恶军服，对谍报工作恨之入骨的人，现在又决定为一家保密局工作了，他同维尔特上校一起乘车到了巴黎的路德契亚饭店。他在那儿见到了德国谍报局神秘莫测的人物卡纳里斯海军上将。托马斯·列文知道要是再把他交给盖世太保的话，那他不出一个月就得死在那儿。尽管如此，当着白发苍苍的海军上将他仍然不放弃自己立身行事的原则。“卡纳里斯先生，我将为您工作，这是因为别无他路可走了。不过我请你们考虑考虑。我不会去杀人的，我不威胁任何人，我不会去恐吓、折磨、绑架任何人。要是您一定要指派我去完成这类任务，那我宁可再回到佛赫林荫道去。”海军上将神色忧郁地摇了摇头说：“列文先生，我想派您去完成的任务，其宗旨是制止流血，挽救人的生命。在我们力所能及的范围内。”他提高了嗓音说：“去救德国人的生命，去救法国人的生命。不知您是否乐意去完成这样的一种使命？” “挽救人的生命，这是我永远乐意为之的事情。我救人的时候是不问其国籍或者宗教信仰的。” “您的任务是同一些危险的法国游击队作斗争。有人汇报说一支新建立的强大的抵抗组织正在力图与伦敦取得联系。我们都知道，英国陆军部在支持法国的抵抗组织。这些组织大多数都是受陆军部领导的。您要去找这支游击队目前还需要一台发报机和一本密码。您的任务是把这两样东西给他们送去，列文先生。” “呵呵。”托马斯意味深长地应了一声。“您的英语和法语都讲得很流利。您在英国住过好几年。您将以英国军官的身份跳伞降落到游击队活动的地区把发报机带去。这是一台特殊的发报机。” “呵呵。”托马斯意味深长地又一次应了一声。 “前滚翻！”比塞朗吼叫着。十二个穿着污迹斑斑的训练服在体操房泥地上摸爬滚打的人，四天前才成为这个火暴性子的上士训斥的对象。“后滚翻！”托马斯已经汗流浃背了，他周身的骨头都痛得好象要断了似的，他咬着牙又朝后翻了过去。他旁边的那两个印度人在翻跟头的时候缠头巾都落了下来盖住了眼睛。你们这些狗杂种，托马斯在心里骂道。我是迫不得已，而你们呢？你们是自愿找上门来的，你们这些贱货！“好，停止滚翻！起立，开步走！到秋千边上去！快点，你们这些懒鬼，还不快点！”于是这十二个人又上气不接下气地开始去爬竿，这些竿子从地面伸向体操房的房顶，足足有五米多高。“荡起来！你们这些吃饱了饭就只知道睡觉的懒猪，还不快给我荡起来！” “老子要打死他。”那个挪威的叛徒在爬秋千的时候对旁边的托马斯悄声说：“我发誓要干掉这个可恶的家伙！太折磨人了！简直没把人当人！” 德国人占领了马赛。桑塔怎么样了？is she still alive她被放逐了吗？被抓起来了吗？或许同他一样，也在受残酷的刑罚的熬煎？每当托马斯被这些恶梦惊醒，便再难入睡。他躺在烦人的营房里房间里住了六个人，有的鼾声如雷，有的在呻吟。桑塔啊，我们本来正想一同到瑞士去享享太平日子，天呐！ 那个脾气暴烈的比塞朗上士还在无情地训练着他手下的十二个人。地面训练结束后，又开始转到寒冷的户外训练，学员的身上要扎一个张开来的降落伞。地上放一台安装在坐盘上的飞机马达。马达发动后，一股强大的旋风马上就鼓胀了系在学员身上的降落伞。被鼓胀了的降落伞便拖着学员擦着地面飘。训练下来，人人身上都是青一块红一块的。身上有许多地方都擦伤了，膝盖肿起来了，关节扭伤了。然后又叫他们从一个仿造的很高的飞机舱门里往下跳，下面由四个学员拉着毯子接住跳下来的人。 在实习跳伞的头天晚上，他叫大家都写遗嘱，写完之后还要装在信封里封上口。就寝之前所有的学员还得把自己的东西都打上包捆好。比塞朗说：“要是明天你们摔死了我们好把你们的东西寄给你们的家里人。”比塞朗自以为这是一套心理战术，看看到底谁的胆子大，谁的胆子小。The results of it?除了一个之外，全都吓瘫了。比塞朗大发雷霆：“喂，七号，您的遗嘱呢？”托马斯温驯得象小羊羔一样地回答说：“我不需要遗嘱。一个被您训练过的人，上士先生，跳伞时决不会出问题的！” 第二天比塞朗上士终究还是做出了他没有资格做的事情。早上九点，他同这个小组的十二人一道登上了一架老掉牙的JU52型飞机，飞到预定跳伞地点时高度是两百米。这十二个背上的拉线都系在绳勾上，他们排成一行站在机舱里。比塞朗高声吼叫道：“准备跳伞！”一号是那个意大利人。他朝前跨了一步。比塞朗推了他一下，那个人张开双臂跳了下去。接着是二号、三号。托马斯想，我的嘴唇怎么这么干呢？我会不会摔死？真怪，我现在怎么突然想吃鹅肝呢？呵，为什么不让我留在桑塔身边呀。轮到六号了，那个乌克兰人。他突然朝后退缩，背挤在托马斯胸膛上，惊慌失措地叫道：“不！不！不！”胆小鬼，典型的胆小鬼。托马斯心想。训练制度上写得明明白白，不得强迫任何人跳伞，两次飞行中拒绝跳伞即作为自动退出训练来处理。可是，阿多尔夫·比塞朗上士才不管你是什么规章制度咧。他咆哮起来：“你这个胆小鬼！你还不快给老子……”他边骂边抓住那个浑身发抖的乌克兰人朝前一推，又抬脚往他屁股上狠狠地一蹬。那个乌克兰人哇呀一声凄厉的呼喊便消失在空中了。托马斯正在为眼前粗暴的行为感到震怒，只觉得一只铁钳般的后掌在他背后猛地朝前一推，还没来得及细想，屁股上也被踢了一脚。他一个踉跄就跌出舱门，跌入茫茫的虚空。 托马斯有生以来第一次跳伞跳得不错，其他人也都安然无恙地跳下来了，只有那个乌克兰人摔断了一条腿。因为骨折和神经受到惊吓被送进了野战医院。这天下午他们在训练收伞，这个小组的人鬼鬼祟祟地开始议论起来。那个挪威人极力主张集体谋杀。比塞朗正在睡觉，他住在一个专门的单人房间，离他们的集体营房不远。那几个德国人主张上书空军基地指挥部告比塞朗的状，并且主张大家不执行他的命令。那个意大利人和那两个印度人提议把比塞朗打个半死，但不要真的打死。上面追查下来，全都被抓起来。正因为全都被抓起来，所以没人会受处罚。 “象你们这样搞法结果如何呢？比塞朗还要升官，我们得蹲禁闭，谁也脱不了手。”托马斯说。那个挪威人咬牙切齿地骂道：“可是这个狗杂种，这个该死的混账！那我们该拿他怎么办？” “我已经考虑过了。”托马斯平心静气地回答说：“我们邀请他去吃一顿。” 人们在回忆往事的时候，至今还常常谈起一九四三年二月二十六日维特斯托克的弗里德利希·奥内若尔格老板的餐馆里吃的那顿饭。比塞朗上士漂亮的女儿埃尔弗里德·比塞朗就在那个餐馆里当招待，托马斯在一个小杂货店里找到了一些他需要的小东西。干蘑菇、葡萄干、蜜饯柑橘皮和蜜饯柠檬皮。满头金发的埃尔弗里德帮托马斯做牛肉泥的时候总是骂她的父亲：“这个死老汉，其实根本不值得去费那么多的精力！这个傻老头真讨厌，就知道打仗打仗打仗！一天到晚见人就吹嘘他如何英勇如何果敢。别人都是胆小鬼，只有他才是英雄！” “埃尔弗里德。”托马斯问：“令堂爱不爱听令尊讲他扛枪打天下的英雄历史？”埃尔弗里德忍不住笑了起来。“您问的是我妈妈？她呀，只要老头一提起话头她就要跑出房间去。妈妈总是说你想扛枪就到希腊去打吧，别在家里打！” “是呀！”托马斯严肃地说：“所以您的爸爸就变成了他今天这个脾气，又凶又恶。” "why?" “因为没有人听他讲话。没有人欣赏过他，夸奖过他。没有人爱过他……”埃尔弗里德离托马斯那么近，仰着头。她张开了嘴唇等着托马斯去吻她。托马斯终于禁不住吻了她好一会儿。“我就喜欢你这样的男人。”她轻轻地说：“我们两个，要是我们俩能在一块儿就好了，你真是太好了。我太喜欢你了。你评论我家老头的话，还没有谁像你这样对我讲过。” “对他好一些吧，别太凶。”托马斯说：“行吗？多听听他讲话。你要是能办到这点，营房里好多人都会感激你的。”埃尔弗里德哭了，她吻了吻托马斯。当这个十七岁的姑娘吻他的时候他心里却想我在吻别人的时候就好象在吻你，桑塔。我的上帝，我是多么爱你，桑塔…… 席间，托马斯向阿多尔夫·比塞朗上士致了祝酒词。他在祝词结束时说道：“……正因为如此我们要向您表示感谢，尊敬的上士先生。感谢您以您铁面无私的严厉、自我牺牲的精神和无微不至的关怀，甚至在不得已时还不惜借肋拳打脚踢来帮助我们战胜内心的胆怯。”比塞朗激动得热泪盈眶，他站起身来致了答词：“非常尊敬的先生们，我确实没有想到我的生活中还会有这么美好的时刻……” 当比塞朗上士第二天到训练场来叫大伙的时候与以前已经判若两人了。他没再像狗熊那样咆哮，而是彬彬有礼地说道：“先生们，谢谢你们昨天晚上的盛情款待，现在请你们随我一道去登机。抱歉的是我们还得再练习一会儿跳伞。” 二月二十七日晚，托马斯从训练场回到住地的时候，有个士兵叫住了他：“喂！” "what's up?" “你很像巴斯蒂安给我说的那个人。”托马斯心里一震：“巴斯蒂安？” “你是不是叫皮埃尔·于内贝尔？” “是的，就是我……你还知不知道，你还知不知道一个叫桑塔·泰西尔的女人？” “泰西尔？没听说。我只认识这个巴斯蒂安·法布尔。他给了我三个金币，叫我带这封信。我得走了，我们的中士过来了……”托马斯拿着信封在一块土堆上坐下来。天已经黄昏了，冷飕飕。他用颤抖的手撕开信封，抽出信笺读了起来。 火光冲天，硝烟弥漫，爆炸声此起彼伏，黑暗中一片哭喊声……天已黑了下来，老区被燃烧的房屋映得通明。桑塔站在拱形门下面的阴影里一动也不动。她穿了一条长长的细管裤，上身是一件皮夹克，头发上缠了一条红头巾。她在皮夹克下面端着一挺冲锋枪。她那张苍白的脸一动不动地朝着对面那幢房子的出口，连眼睛都不眨一下。又是一幢房子被炸塌了。炸飞的砖块象雨点冰雹散落下来。又是一片惊叫声、怒骂声、杂沓的皮靴声。“老天爷，桑塔。非走不可了！”巴斯蒂安催促着说：“德国人马上就要到这儿来了！要是发现了我们还有武器……”桑塔默默地摇了摇头：“你们快逃吧，我留在这儿。”桑塔的声音已经哑了，她咳嗽一下又说：“秃子还在地下室里，我知道。他非出来不可，狗东西。我要干掉他。我发过誓要干掉他，我今天就是死也要干掉他！”正在这时，街上传来一片女人们的尖厉的哭叫声。他俩抬头一看，只见一些军人押着一群姑娘往前赶。这些姑娘有的还只披了一件薄薄的晨裙，或者只围了一块围布。她们拼命地挣扎，拒绝被押走。她们不顾一切地用手抓、用拳打、用脚踢、用嘴咬。“这些都是约尼夫人的姑娘。”马脚说。这些姑娘被驱赶着从他们旁边经过。狂怒的咒骂声尖叫声在夜空中震荡。突然，巴斯蒂安叫了一声：“在那儿！”但丁·维勒福特在对面那幢房子的门口出现了。同他一道出来的还有三个人。秃子穿了一件短皮夹克。他的保镖都穿着厚厚的毛衣。他们裤袋里鼓鼓囊囊地揣着手枪。巴斯蒂安举起了枪，可是桑塔一把就把他的枪口按下来。她叫道：“别开枪！你会射中那些姑娘的！”那些妇女还在同德国兵扭成一团。但丁·维勒福特趁机冲了出来，他躬着身子跑到一个下级军官的身子后边，他从这个人身后又窜到另一个人的身后。总是让一个德国人或者一个姑娘挡住自己不使桑塔有机会开枪。他给那个保安处的军人亮了亮巴黎保安处艾歇尔旗队长签过字的身份证。然后他又对那个下级军官说了几句什么，朝桑塔、巴斯蒂安和马脚站着的那个拱形门指了指。这时候桑塔从皮夹克下面端出冲锋枪，她把子弹推上膛端起来瞄准，可是她又犹豫了。因为还有几个姑娘站在射击范围之内。这几秒犹豫的代价就太大了。维勒福特躲在一个姑娘身后狞笑着举起手枪，哗哗地把一梭子弹全倒空了。桑塔无声无息地倒了下去，倒在又脏又湿的土地上。血，如注的鲜血染红了她的皮夹克。她不动弹了，她那美丽动人的眼睛渐渐变成了灰色。“快跑！”马脚喊了一声：“从院子里穿过去！翻墙！”巴斯蒂安明白一秒钟都不能再犹豫了。他转回身，对准维勒福特就是一梭子。他看见那个强盗身子一抖，一把抓住自己的左臂杀猪般地嚎叫起来。随后巴斯蒂安和马脚便逃命去了。 巴斯蒂安写道。 信从托马斯的手中滑落到地上。他抬起头来往远处望去，他望着苍茫的夜色，他的视线被黄昏时升起的紫色的雾霭遮断了。托马斯擦去了泪水又拣起信来往下读： it's getting dark.托马斯·列文还坐在那里。寒风呼呼地吹，托马斯却不觉得冷。他孤零零地坐在空旷的原野，满脸都是泪水。死了，桑塔死了，他一下子把脸埋在手里大声呻吟起来。啊，天呐！他是多么渴望能见到她啊，他是多么渴望再能领略她的野性，她的笑，她的爱啊。 那边营房里的人在到处喊他，到处找他，可他没有听见他们的喊声。他独坐在凛冽的寒风中追忆他失去的爱，在为他失去的爱而伤心地哭泣。 一九四三年四月四日，刚过午夜，一架英国的布伦海姆式飞机以二百五十米的高度飞到了里摩日和克莱蒙费朗之间的一片偏僻的林区上空。飞机在空中盘旋了一大圈，再次从这片林地上空飞过。接着地上燃起了两堆篝火，后来又亮起三盏红灯，最后又有一支手电筒的白光在打信号，在这架英国皇家空军的军用飞机的机舱里坐着两名德国空军驾驶员和一个德国空军报务员。他们身后站着一个穿英国军服的人，背上背着英国制造的降落伞。这个人身上带各种各样的假证件，证件上的名字是罗伯特·阿尔芒·埃菲雷。他还有个假护照，证实他的军衔是上尉。他蓄着海象胡。此外他身边还带着英国香烟，英国罐头和英国药品。领航员回身朝他点了点头。托马斯·列文从衣袋里摸出他的金怀表，弹开表盖。零点二十八分。他同报务员一道先把一个大包从舱口扔了出去，然后他走到舱口，报务员同他握了握手。当他按照学来的规定动作做跳伞准备时他心里暗暗起誓要是我能逃掉，要是我在这个世界上再碰上但丁·维勒福特，那我一定会为你报仇的，桑塔。我要为你报仇。他自言自语地说出了声：“我爱你，桑塔。”然后他便伸开两臂跳了出去，随即便消失在黑夜之中…… 托马斯望见下面的一块林中空地上有两团篝火，还看见三个手电筒的红光点。嘣的一声，托马斯·列文重重地落到地面。他一下子扑倒在地上，碰了一大绺胡须到嘴里，他正想开口怒骂突然想起应该用英语。然后他慢慢地撑起身来，只见他面前站着四个人，三男一女。他们的脸被两团篝火映得红红的。四个人都穿着皮夹克。那个女的很年轻也很漂亮，金发卷在头的后边，很是威严。高高的颧骨，微微上斜的眼睛。嘴长得很丰满。那三个男人当中有一个又矮又胖，一个又高又瘦，另外一个象石器时代的原始人一样胡须都快把脸盖满了。矮胖子用英语说向托马斯发问；“我岳母的园子里有几只野兔在玩？”托马斯操着标准的牛津英语答道：“两只白的，十一只黑的，一只花的。他们应该马上到费尔南代尔那儿去。这个理发师在等他们。” “您爱听柴柯夫斯基的作品吗？”那个神情严肃的美人儿用法语问道。她的眼睛和牙齿闪闪发亮，手里握着一支上了膛的手枪。托马斯用带英语口音的法语回答了一句维尔特上校在巴黎告诉他的接头暗语：“我更爱听肖邦的作品。”看来这个回答使那个金发女郎放宽了心，她收起武器。那个矮胖子又说：“可以看看您的证件吗？”托马斯给这四个人出示了自己的证件。那个又高又瘦的游击队员用命令的口气说道：“行了，欢迎您，埃菲雷上尉。”大家都同他热情地握手。原来就这么简单，托马斯心里想着。假如我在伦敦交易所也这么马虎大意的话，那么要不了一天的时间我就得破产。 事实上这件事的确不怎么复杂。德国谍报局了解到在克勒泽谷地那一片林区里法国人建立了一个新的抵抗组织，用加尔基勒斯以南的那个小地名称这个组织为克罗章游击队，这支游击队急于想同伦敦建立联系并按英国的指示来对付德国人。这支游击队之所以具有相当的威胁性是因为他们活动的区域里有许多重要的铁路运输线、重要的公路和发电站。而且这是个实际上不可能控制的区域。到处是峡谷、丘陵，德国人不可能组织较大的对抗行动，比如坦克车之类的武器就无用武之地。这个新组建的游击队同里摩日游击队有联系。里摩日游击队有一台发报机并且保持着与伦敦的联络。他们的报务员是个双重间谍，也在为德国人搞情报。巴黎防卫厅通过他了解到克罗章游击队急切地盼望有一台自己的发报机。 又名埃菲雷的托马斯·列文问道：“带有发报机的降落伞现在在哪儿？”他的确很关心这个发报机，因为这是一台经好些德国无线电技师精心改装过的发报机。“已经藏起来了。”那个神态严肃的美人儿在说话的时候眼睛一直盯着托马斯。“我来介绍一下我的朋友好吗？”她就像桑塔曾经掌握着她那个集团的盗贼一样，她也掌握着这几个男人。不同的是她不像桑塔那样感情用事，这个金发女郎说话却带着睿智的冷静。经过介绍，托马斯知道了矮胖名叫罗伯特·卡西尔，是克罗章的市长。那个少言寡语的瘦高个儿过去是个少尉，名叫贝勒库。还有一个叫埃米尔·卢夫，是个加尔基勒斯的陶工。托马斯心想这个女的怎么恶狠狠地盯着我？那个满脸络腮胡子的陶工说：“九个月之前我就发过誓，希特勒那一窝子不被消灭我决不剪头发。” “我们可不能过于乐观了，卢夫先生。估计一两年内您是不会去理发的。”托马斯又转头对那个姑娘说：“您呢？您贵姓，小姐？” “约尼·德桑，德博舍教授的助教。” “德博舍？”托马斯抬起眼睛问道：“就是那位著名的物理学家？” “英国人也知道他对吧。”金发约尼自豪地说道。托马斯想，确实英国人知道他。不过德国人也知道他。当然他不能把后半句说出来。他打听说：“我想这位教授是在斯特拉斯堡大学执教对吗？”一听这话，那个叫贝勒库的瘦高个儿忽地一下子站起身来阴沉沉地问道：“斯特拉斯堡大学已经迁到克莱蒙费朗，这件事伦敦还不知道，我的上尉？”见鬼，托马斯在心里骂自己，谁叫我这么多话！言多必失。于是他冷冷地回答道：“伦敦肯定知道。我个人不知道。孤陋寡闻，请原谅。”接着大家沉默起来，冷冷的紧张的沉默。托马斯想着怎么办？现在只有靠大胆来挽救局面了。于是他摆起一副上对下的架子看了少尉一眼问：“时间紧迫，现在该上哪儿去？”少尉目不转睛地同托马斯对视着说道：“我们要到德博舍教授那儿去，他在等我们。在加尔基勒斯的风磨房。” “这一带维希政府的民兵太多了。”约尼说着与少尉交换了一下眼色。托马斯很讨厌那个少尉。他想那个市长和陶工还不要紧，危险的是少尉和约尼，非常危险。他问道：“你们这个组织的报务员是谁？”那个金发女郎紧咬着嘴唇回答道：“我。”当然会是她的。唔，那更得小心了。 德博舍教授的相貌很像阿尔伯特·爱因斯坦个子矮矮的，一个巨大的学者头颅，满头蓬乱的头发活像个狮子头。善良而忧郁的眼睛，巨大的后脑勺。他默默地审视着托马斯·列文。托马斯强迫自己忍受着他那安详的、洞察肺腑的目光的注视。身上热一阵冷一阵的象受刑一样。他身边围了五个人，都在默默无言地注视着他。突然教授把两只手放在托马斯·列文的肩上说：“欢迎您！”接着教授又对其他人说道：“朋友们，这个上尉是个好人。我只要一看这个人的眼睛，就知道他是个好人。” 约尼默默地走到托马斯面前，她那双海绿色的眼睛在闪闪发光，她抱住托马斯的脖子吻了他一下。托马斯感到身上一阵发热。因为约尼吻他是一个热情的爱国者对他这个英国上尉感激的表示。感激他来帮助她的祖国。随后，约尼便欢天喜地地说道；“德博舍教授还从来没有看错过一个人。我们相信他的话。他是我们的上帝。”老教授听了约尼的话微笑着摆了摆手。约尼还紧靠着托马斯，她说：“您不顾危险献身于我们的事业，而我们刚才还在怀疑您。这肯定使您很伤心。请原谅。” 托马斯看了看那位面容慈祥的白发学者，看了看那个满脸胡须的古猿人卢夫，看了看少言寡语的少尉，看了看那个又矮又胖的市长，看了看这些热爱自己的国家的人。他心里默默地想道要请求原谅的不是你们，而是我，原谅我吧。我真是恨无地洞可钻啊。What should I do?what can i do我过去和现在都一样，要尽力设法挽救你们的生命，同时也要挽救我自己。托马斯带来了原装的英国军用罐头，原装的英国香烟和烟丝，还带来了贴有英国皇家空军军用品标签的苏格兰威士忌。其实所有这些东西都是从德国国防军缴获的战利品仓库里取出来的。游击队员打开酒瓶为他这个英雄干杯，而他却内疚万分。大家现在都把他当成朋友，