Chapter 4 third chapter

Flick stood in front of the Sports Café, tiptoeing over Michele's shoulder and looking out.She was alert, her heart was beating fast, her muscles tensed, ready for action, but the blood in her brain was as cold as ice water, flowing slowly, and she watched, calculating all possibilities with calm detachment. There were eight guards in sight, two checking passes at the gate, two more standing on the inside of the gate, two more patrolling behind the iron bars, and the last two standing at the top of the steps leading to the castle's wide entrance.Michelle's main force will bypass the gate, though.

The longer north end of the church building forms part of the wall surrounding the base of the castle, and the north transept rises a few feet towards the parking lot, which was once part of the ornamental gardens.In the days of the old regime, the earl had a separate personal passage to the church.In the wall of the transept there was a small door, the entrance had been boarded up and plastered more than a hundred years ago, and remained so until now. An hour earlier, a retired quarryman named Gaston had entered the deserted church and carefully placed four half-pound tubes of yellow plastic dynamite under the sealed doorway.He plugged in the detonators, linked them so they exploded at the same time, and added a five-second fuse that was ignited by depressing the plunger.He then covered it with ashes from his own kitchen so as not to attract attention, and moved a wooden chair to the door for extra cover.Satisfied with the effort, he knelt down and prayed to heaven.

The church bells had stopped a few seconds ago, Gaston stood up, walked a few steps from the center of the church into the transept, pressed down the plunger with his fingers, and then immediately dodged into a corner.The explosion shook centuries-old dust from the Gothic arches.But there was no one in the transept when he worshiped, so no one was hurt. After the bang of the explosion, the square was silent for a while.Everyone froze, whether it was the guard at the castle gate, the sentinel patrolling the fence, the Gestapo major, or the dignified German and his beautiful mistress.Flick was nervous and worried. She watched the movement behind the iron railing across the square.In the parking lot are the remains of a 17th-century garden, with three cherubs frolicking in a stone fountain, covered in moss, where the water once spouted.Parked around the dry marble bowl are a truck, an armored car, a Mercedes painted in the gray-green colors of the German army, and two black "front drive" Citroens, the favorite of the Gestapo stationed in France car.A soldier was filling up a Citroen with an air pump placed incongruously in front of one of the castle's large windows.Nothing happened for a few seconds.Flick waited, held his breath.

Ten heavily armed warriors mingled with the congregation entering the church.The pastor himself was not a sympathizer of the Resistance, so he was not informed, and he must have been pleased to see so many people coming to the evening service, and even felt a little abnormal.He may wonder why many people are still wearing jackets even though the weather has gotten warmer?However, after four years of hard life, many people's clothes have become strange. Some men may wear a raincoat to church without a coat.Now, Flick hoped the pastor understood what was going on.At this very moment, those ten fighters would step over their seats, draw their guns, and rush into the hole in the wall that had just been blasted.

Finally she saw them appear at the other end of the church.These ragged mobs rushed across the parking lot and headed for the castle gate.Flick's heart beat wildly, both proud and fearful.They stomped through the dusty mud, clutching their assortment of weapons—pistols, revolvers, rifles, submachine guns.The shooting has not yet begun, they want to get as close to the building as possible before firing. Michelle was watching them too, and he was moaning, part moan, part sigh.Flick knew that he, like himself, was both proud of their bravery and fearful for their lives.Time to distract the guards.Michel held up his rifle, a Lee Enfield No. 4 I, which the Resistance called the Canadian Rifle because many were Canadian-made.He aimed the gun, squeezed the slack two-stage trigger, and fired.He deftly pushes and pulls the bolt so the weapon fires again instantly.

Gunfire broke the silence in the square.Across the door, a guard fell to the ground with a yelp, and Flick felt a bit of malevolent pleasure, one less guy to shoot her comrade.Michelle's shot also sent a signal to the others to fire.On the church porch, the young Bertrand fired two shots that sounded like firecrackers.He was too far away from the guards and the pistol wasn't accurate enough to hit anyone.Albert next to him pulled a grenade ring and threw it over the high railing and into the yard, where it exploded in the vineyard, but it did nothing more than blow up a vine.Flick was so angry that he really wanted to yell at them: "You don't shoot to make noise, you will reveal your position!" However, only the most well-trained team can maintain restraint and act rationally after firing.Genevieve, who was hiding behind the sports car, also fired at this moment, the click of her Sten submachine gun was deafening.One of her shots had an effect, and another guard fell.

The Germans finally took action.The guards took cover behind stone pillars, or sprawled on the ground, raising their rifles to take aim.The Gestapo major drew his pistol from its holster.The red-haired woman turned and ran, but her sexy high heels slipped on the cobblestones, knocking her to the ground.His man fell on her body and protected her with his own body. Flick knew that he had guessed right. He was indeed a soldier. It was safer to lie down on the spot than to run around. Ordinary people did not understand this. . The sentries fired.Almost at the same time, Albert was hit.Seeing him staggering, Flick clutched his throat tightly with his hand.A grenade slipped from his hand as he was about to throw it.Then another round hit him, this time in the forehead.Albert fell to the ground like a rock.A pang of grief surged in Flick's heart. She knew that the baby girl born this morning was now fatherless.Beside Albert, Bertrand saw a tortoise shell grenade roll over the time-worn steps of the church porch.He lunged for the door, and the grenade exploded.Flick waited to see him show his head again, but saw nothing.She was distressed and anxious, and she didn't know whether Bertrand was dead or injured, maybe he just passed out.

Across the parking lot, the squad from the church stopped running, turned around and opened fire on the remaining six sentries.The four guards near the gate were in the crossfire of the courtyard and the square outside, and were wiped out in a few seconds, leaving only the last two guards on the steps of the castle.Michelle's plan works, and Flick sees hope. But at this point, the enemy troops inside the building had had enough time to take up their weapons, rush to the doors and windows, and start shooting outward, making the situation unpredictable again.Now, it all depends on how many of them there are.

Within minutes, there was such a rain of bullets that Flick could no longer count.Then she realized with despair that the firepower inside the castle was far greater than she had anticipated.At least a dozen doors and windows were shooting out at the same time.The fighters who came out of the church, should have rushed into the building, were now forced to retreat to the parking lot and hide behind the vehicles.It seems that Antoinette was right in estimating the strength of the garrison, while MI6 was quite wrong.MI6 had estimated twelve, but the Resistance had knocked out at least six, and fourteen were now shooting.

Flick cursed viciously.In this type of assault, the Resistance can only win with sudden and overwhelming force.If they can't crush the enemy right away, they'll be in trouble soon.As time went on, the training and discipline of the regular army kicked in.In the end, regular forces always win in protracted conflicts.On the upper level of the castle, a large 17th-century window was smashed open, from which a machine gun protruded and began firing down.Because of its high position, resistance fighters in the parking lot were slaughtered in an instant.Flick watched with distress as one man after another fell by the dry fountain, dripping blood, until at last only two or three were still shooting.It's all over, Flick thought desperately.They fail by being outnumbered.A bitter bitterness of despair rose in her throat.

Michel fired at the position of the machine gun. "Let's find a way to get that Heavy off the ground!" he said.He looked around the square, past the tops of the buildings, the bell towers of the churches, and the top floors of the town hall. "If I can get into the mayor's office, I can aim and shoot." "Wait a minute." Flick's lips were dry.She couldn't stop him from risking his life, even though she hated it.But she wants to create opportunities for him and remove obstacles.She cried out as loud as she could: "Genevieve!" Genevieve turned to look at her. "Cover Michelle!" Genevieve nodded vigorously, then rushed out from behind the sports car and fired a volley of bullets at the windows of the castle. "Thank you," Michelle said to Flick.Then he ran out from the hiding place, crossed the square at a sprint speed of 100 meters, and ran towards the town hall. Genevieve continued to run towards the church porch.Her bullet distracted the group inside the castle, and Michele took the opportunity to cross the square unscathed.But then Flick felt something flash to the left, and she looked in that direction to see the Gestapo Major clinging to the town hall wall, aiming his pistol at Michel. Hitting a moving target with a pistol was very difficult, unless at close range - but the possibility of a Gestapo major getting away with it worried Flick very much.She was ordered to observe and debrief, and under no circumstances could join the fight, but now her mind was saying: To hell with it!Hidden in her backpack was her own weapon, a Browning 9mm automatic pistol.The Special Operations was issued a Colt, but she preferred hers because it had thirteen rounds instead of seven, and it could hold the 9mm Luger rounds used in the Sten submachine gun.She took the gun from her knapsack, released the safety, cocked the firing pin, stretched her arm, and fired twice hastily at the major. She missed, but the bullet landed on the wall near his face, knocking a splinter away and sending him dodging backwards.Michelle ran on. The major poked his head out quickly, raising his pistol again. Michel got closer to the destination, and closer to the major, and the range became shorter.Michel fired a shot in the major's direction, but the bullet went flying, and the major pulled back and returned the blow.This time, Michele fell, and Flick let out a cry. Michelle fell to the ground and struggled to get up, but was unsuccessful.Flick suppressed his composure, his mind running fast.Michelle is still alive.Genevieve had reached the porch of the church, and her submachine gun fire continued to attract the enemies inside the castle.Flick had a chance to save Michele, against the orders she had been given, but there was no order for her to leave her bleeding husband alone.Besides, if she left him there, he would be arrested and interrogated by the Gestapo.Michel was the leader of the Bollinger Resistance, and he knew everyone's name, every address, every code.Had he been captured, there would have been a catastrophe. There is no other choice. She fired a few more shots at the major.But this time it missed again, and she pulled the trigger again and again, and the sustained fire forced the guy back along the wall, constantly looking for cover. She rushed out of the bar and onto the square.Out of the corner of her eye she glimpsed the owner of the sports car, still sprawled over his mistress, protecting her from the bullets.Flick had forgotten him just now, and now he suddenly became frightened.does he have a gunIf so, he could easily hit her.But he didn't shoot. She approached Michele, who was lying on his back, and got on one knee.She turned and fired two random shots at the town hall, without giving the major a chance to breathe, and went at once to see her husband. She was relieved that his eyes were still open and he was still breathing.Blood appeared to be coming from his left buttock.Her worries eased a little. "You've been shot in the ass," she said in English. He replied in French: "It hurts like hell." She turned toward the town hall.The major stepped back twenty meters, crossed a narrow street, and stopped in front of a shop.This time Flick took a few seconds to aim carefully, firing four shots in a row.The shop windows exploded, and the major staggered back a few steps and fell to the ground. Flick said to Michel in French: "Get up hard." He rolled over, moaned in pain, and choked on one knee, but he couldn't move his injured leg. "Come on," she ordered sternly, "you'll die if you stay here." She grabbed him by the front of his shirt and lifted him to his feet with a strange force.He stood on that good leg, but couldn't bear his own weight, leaning heavily against her.She sighed in despair when she realized he was no longer able to walk. She glanced toward the town hall.The major was already on his feet, and despite the blood on his face, he appeared to be unhurt.She estimated that his skin was probably scratched by the blown glass, and he should still be able to shoot. There was only one thing to do now: she was going to pick Michelle up and get him to safety. She bent over him, wrapped her arms around his thighs, and hoisted him onto her shoulders in typical firefighter motion.Although he was tall, he was very thin. In those days, the French were thin.Still, she felt like she was about to collapse under his weight.She staggered, dizzy for a moment, but she stood firmly. After a moment, she took a step forward. She moved with difficulty on the cobblestone road.She thought the major was going to shoot her, but now that there was so much gunfire everywhere, some from the direction of the castle, some from Genevieve and the fighters who stood up in the parking lot, she couldn't be sure.She could be hit by a bullet at any moment, and the fear gave her strength.She ran crookedly, onto a road that led to the south side of the square, which was the nearest exit.She passed the German lying on top of the red-haired woman, and she noticed the look of surprise, almost admiration, on his face during the startling moment when she met his eyes.Then she bumped into a coffee table, which tipped over and nearly fell herself, but managed to keep her balance and keep running.A bullet hit the window of the bar, and the panes burst like cobwebs before her eyes.A moment later she ran around the corner and out of the major's sight.This is alive, she thought gratefully: We're both alive—at least for a few more minutes. Up to now, she still hasn't thought about where she will go after fleeing the battlefield.The two cars that had taken them away were parked a few streets away, but she couldn't take Michelle that far.However, Antoinette Duper lived just down the street, just a few steps away.Antoinette is not a member of the Resistance, but she is a sympathizer and provides Michel with a schematic diagram of the interior of the castle.And Michelle was her nephew, so naturally she would not refuse to accept him. Besides, Flick had no other choice. Antoinette lived on the ground floor of a building with a courtyard.Flick came out of the square and walked a few yards down the street to get here.The passage was open, and she staggered through the archway and pushed open a door, placing Michelle on the brick floor. She was panting heavily as she banged on Antoinette's door.A trembling voice came from the door. "What's the matter?" Antoinette was frightened by the gunshots, and she didn't dare to open the door casually. Flick urged breathlessly, "Come on, come on!" She kept her voice as low as possible.Perhaps one of the neighbors was a Nazi sympathizer. The door didn't open, but Antoinette's voice came closer. "who is it?" Instinctively avoiding names, Flick replied: "Your nephew is hurt." The door finally opened.Antoinette was about fifty, straight and wearing a once-fashionable cotton dress that was faded and wrinkled.She turned pale with fright. "Michelle!" she said, kneeling beside him, "what's the matter?" "It hurts, but I can't die." Michelle gritted her teeth. "You poor thing." She caressingly brushed a lock of hair from his forehead, which was soaked with sweat. Flick said anxiously: "Let's get him in the house first." She lifts Michel's arms and Antoinette lifts his knee.He grunted in pain.Two men carried him into the living room and placed him on a faded velvet sofa. "You look after him, I'll bring the car here." Flick said, turned and ran outside. The gunfire died down.She's on a tight schedule.She ran down the street, turning two corners. Parked outside a closed bakery are two cars with their engines running, one a rusty Renault and the other a van with a faded badge that looks like a "Pisser" special laundromat".The car had been borrowed from Bertrand's father because he could get gasoline for washing the sheets in a hotel occupied by the Germans.The Renault was stolen in Chalons this morning and Michel had the plates changed.Flick decided to drive the Renault, leaving the van for the survivors of the massacre in the castle yard. She briefly explained to the truck driver: "Wait here for five minutes, and then you get out of here." Then she ran to the Renault, jumped into the passenger seat, and said, "Go!" Gilberta was driving the Renault. The girl was nineteen years old, with long black hair, pretty but a bit dumb.Flick didn't know why she joined the Resistance—she wasn't the type to join one usually.Gilberta didn't drive, but asked, "Where are you going?" "I'll show you the way—for God's sake, go!" Gilberta stepped on the accelerator and the car moved. "Left first, then right," Flick said. During the two minutes of sitting in the car, the entire failure process was clearly presented to her.Most of the Bollinger organization has been wiped out; Albert and several others have also been killed; Genevieve, Bertrand, and others who survived will also be tortured and tortured.All efforts were in vain.The telephone exchange was not destroyed, and the German communication lines remained intact.Flick didn't think it was worth it, and she had to try her best to figure out where she was wrong.Is it a mistake to carry out a frontal attack on a heavily defended military installation?uncertain.The plan might have succeeded had it not been for the inaccurate intelligence provided by MI6.However, she now thought it might be safer to use some covert means to gain access to the building.That way, the resistance group will have a better chance of getting access to those critical equipment. Gilberta stopped the car at the yard gate. "Turn the car around," Flick said, jumping out of the car. Michel was lying head down on Antoinette's sofa, her trousers pulled down, looking inelegant.Antoinette, kneeling aside, holding a blood-stained towel, peers over his back with a pair of glasses perched on her nose. "It's not bleeding much, but the bullet is still in there," she said. Antoinette's handbag lay on the floor next to the sofa.She dumped the contents on a small table, presumably in a hurry to find her glasses.Flick's eye was drawn to a piece of paper, typed, stamped, and attached with a small photograph of Antoinette, which was enclosed in a cardboard clip. .This is her pass into the castle.At this time, a thought flashed in Flick's mind. "I got a car parked outside," Flick said. Antoinette continued to examine the wound, saying: "He cannot be moved around." "If he stays here, the Germans will kill him." Flick casually picked up Antoinette's pass, and at the same time turned to Michel, "How do you feel?" "I might be able to go now," he said, "it doesn't hurt as much as it did." Flick tucked the pass into her shoulder pocket.Antoinette paid no attention.Flick said to her, "Let's help him up together." Two women helped Michelle stand.Antoinette helped him into his blue canvas trousers, which he fastened with his battered belt. "Don't come out," Flick said to Antoinette, "I don't want people to see you with us." Her plan wasn't fully worked out, but she knew that if Antoinette and Her cleaners came under suspicion and the plan fell through. Michele put her arm around Flick's shoulders and leaned heavily against her.She carried his weight and helped him stagger out of the building.By the time he got to the car, he was already pale with pain.Gilberta stared at them through the car window, visibly terrified.Flick shushed her: "Get out and open the damn door, idiot!" Gilberta jumped out of the car and opened the back door.She helped Flick tuck Michelle into the back seat. The two women quickly sat in the front seat. "Get out of here quickly," said Flick.