Chapter 14 Chapter Thirteen

Late Monday night, Monty's last words to Paul Chancellor were: "If there's only one thing you can do for this war, destroy the telephone exchanges." Paul woke up this morning with those words in his head.It was a simple order, and if he could follow it, it would help win the war.If he failed, the warriors would die, and he might regret the war he lost for the rest of his life. He had gone to Baker Street early in the morning, but Percy Sweet was already there, sitting in his office, puffing on his pipe and staring at six boxes of papers.He was your typical army guy, with a plaid jacket and a toothbrush moustache.He looked at Paul with some hostility. "I don't know why Monty put you in charge of this operation," he said, "I don't mind if you're just a major and I'm a colonel, stuff like that. You've never directed any covert operations, but I've been in this business for three years. Shouldn't that make a difference?"

"Yes," said Paul cheerfully, "when you need to be absolutely sure of getting a job done, you entrust it to someone you trust. Monty trusts me." "But don't trust me." "He doesn't know you." "Understood." Percy said gruffly. Paul needs Percy's cooperation, so he needs to reassure him.He looked around the office and saw a framed photograph of a young man in a lieutenant's uniform and an older woman in a large hat.The man looked like Percy from thirty years ago. "It's your son?" Paul guessed. Percy softened immediately. "David's in Cairo now," he said, "we had some bad moments in the desert war, especially when Rommel went to Tobruk, but now it's okay, he's no longer shooting, which is nice. I'm happy."

The woman had dark hair, dark eyes, and a resolute face, not so much beautiful as a masculine beauty. "Is this Mrs. Sweet?" Paul asked. "Rosa Mann. She was a suffragette, famous in the twenties, and she always used her maiden name." "Suffragette?" "Activist for women's election to politics." Paul reasoned that Percy liked strong women, so it was understandable that he liked Flick. "I have to admit that you were right just now, I do have this deficiency," he said frankly, "I have participated in covert operations and been on the front line, but now I am an organizer for the first time, so I Your help will be greatly appreciated."

Percy nodded. "I've seen your ability to bring things about," he said with a slight smile, "but if you want advice..." "Please say." "Do as Flicker says. No one has survived as long as she has. Her knowledge and experience are unrivaled. Although in theory she is in my hands, what I do It's just about giving her what she needs. I'm never going to tell her what to do." Paul hesitated.He had taken command from Monty, and he wasn't going to hand it over just because someone suggested it. "I'll keep that in mind," he said.

Percy looked satisfied, pointing to the papers and asking, "Shall we begin?" "What are these things?" "Some people's files were originally considered to be agents, but they were rejected due to various reasons." Paul took off his coat and rolled up the cuffs. The two of them spent the morning looking at documents together.Some haven't even been interviewed, some have been turned down after meeting, most have been screened for failing to pass the Special Operations training course - can't figure out the codes, can't use a gun, or hear they have to be taken from the plane. I was hysterical when I jumped down with the parachute.Most of them are in their early twenties, and another thing they have in common is that they can speak a foreign language as fluently as they speak their own mother tongue.

There are too many files, but not a few suitable candidates.After Percy and Paul had weeded out all the men and women who didn't speak French, they were down to three names. Paul was a little discouraged that they had encountered such a big obstacle at the beginning. "Even assuming that the woman Flick went to recruit this morning has been recruited, we have to find at least four people." "Diana Caulfield." "And these guys are neither explosion experts nor telephone mechanics!" Percy was more optimistic. "They weren't before they interviewed in Special Operations, but they probably are now. Women can learn anything."

"Okay, let's try it then." It took them a while to locate the whereabouts of the three men.What was even more disappointing was that one of them was dead.The other two are in London.One was Ruby Roman, and unfortunately she was in Holloway, a women's prison three miles north of Baker Street, awaiting a murder trial.Another, Maud Valentine, simply listed as "mentally unfit" on the file, was a driver for an emergency nurse team. "Only two left!" Paul said despondently. "It's not quantity that worries me, it's quality," Percy said. "We knew from the beginning that these people were weeded out."

Percy's tone became angry: "But we can't make Flick risk his life with this kind of person!" Paul found that Percy was desperately protecting Flick.The old guy was willing to relinquish control of the operation, but refused to relinquish his role as Flick's guardian angel. The ringing of the phone interrupted their argument.It was Simon Fortescue, the pinstriped phantom of MI6 who railed against SOS over the defeat at Saint-Cécile. "Is there anything I can do for you?" Paul said cautiously.Fortescue is not a man to be trusted. "I thought I could help you a little," Fortescue said. "I know you're going to carry out Major Claret's plan."

"Who told you?" Paul asked skeptically, because the matter was still kept secret. "Let's not get entangled in this matter. I naturally hope that your mission will be successful. Although I am against it, I am willing to help." Paul was annoyed to talk to this guy about the operation, but there was no point in pressing. "Do you know a female telephone mechanic who speaks fluent French?" he asked. "No. But there is one person you should see. Her name is Lady Denise Bowyer. A very pretty girl, whose father was the Lord of Inverrozzi." Paul was not interested in her parentage. "How does she speak French?"

"She grew up with a French stepmother, the Marquis of Inverozzi's second wife. She would love to do her part." Paul was very suspicious of Fortescue, but he didn't care about it in order to find the right candidate. "How can I find her?" "She's in the RAF unit at Hendon." Paul didn't know what "Hendon" meant, and Fortescue explained, "That's an airfield on the outskirts of North London." "Thank you." "Tell me whether it succeeds or not." Fortescue hung up the phone. Paul told Percy about the call, and Percy said, "Fortescue wants to put his spies on us."

"We can't just let her go for that reason." "certainly." The first person they looked at was Maud Valentine.Percy arranged for the meeting to be at the Fenchurch Hotel, just around the corner from SOS headquarters.He explained that they never take strangers to 64. "If we hadn't recruited her, she might have guessed that she was being asked to do some kind of covert work, but she wouldn't know the name of the organization or where the office was. So it wouldn't do much harm if she let it out." "very good." "What's your mother's maiden name?" Paul froze for a moment, thought for a while and said, "Thomas, her name is Edith Thomas." "Then your name is Major Thomas, and I'm Colonel Cox. We don't need to use our real names." Percy wasn't doing it for nothing, Paul thought. Paul meets Maude in the hotel lobby, and she immediately piques his interest.She was good-looking, a little coquettish, with a tight bodice in her uniform jacket and a cap that was playfully slanted on one side.Paul told her in French: "My colleague is waiting for us in a private room." She gave him a mischievous look and answered in French as well. "I don't usually go into hotel rooms with strange men," she said haughtily, "but for your sake, Major, I can make an exception." He blushed. "It's just a reception room with tables and stuff, not a bedroom." "Oh, that's all right," she said mockingly. He decided to change the subject.He noticed that she had a southern French accent, so he asked, "Where is your hometown?" "I was born in Marseilles." "So what do you do on the emergency nurse team?" "I'll drive for Monty." "Really?" Paul didn't intend to reveal his situation, but he couldn't help but ask, "I worked for Monty for a while, but I don't remember meeting you." "Ah, not always for Monty, I drive for all the top generals." "Oh, yes, this way please." He ushered her into the room and poured her a cup of tea.Maud, Paul discovered, liked being noticed.He watched the girl closely when Percy questioned her.She's small, though not as slender as Flick's, and lovely, with a tiny rosebud mouth, special red lipstick, and a beauty spot on one cheek—perhaps it's painted on. .Dark hair with waves. "My family moved to London when I was ten," she said. "My father was a cook." "Where does he work?" "He's head pastry chef at the Claridge's." "It's amazing." Maude's file was on the table, and Percy gave Paul a slight nudge. Paul caught a glimpse of this little gesture, and then moved his eyes to the notes from Maude's first interview. "Father: Armand Valentine, thirty-nine, kitchen porter at Claridge's." The interview was over and they asked her to wait outside. "She lived in a fantasy world," said Percy, once the door had closed, "and she raised her father to chef, and changed her name to the nobler Valentine." "No wonder it was brushed down before." Paul felt that Percy might want to reject Maude. "But we can't be that picky now," he said. Percy looked at him in surprise and said, "She'll be a threat to covert operations!" Paul made a helpless gesture. "We have no other choice." "This is crazy!" Perhaps, Paul thought, Percy had fallen in love with Flick, but being married and much older had turned the feeling into a paternal affection.This made Paul like him more, but he had to resist Percy's cautious approach if he wanted to get things done. "I don't think we can knock out Maud. Flick will make up his mind when he sees her." "I think you're right," said Percy reluctantly, "that her knack for storytelling could come in handy in case of interrogation." "Yes, then count her in." Paul called her in. "We're forming a group and I want you to be a part of it," he said to her. "Can you take on some kind of dangerous job?" "Can we go to Paris?" said Maud eagerly.This reaction is a bit irrational. Paul hesitated, then said, "Why do you ask that?" "I love going to Paris. I've never been. They say it's the most beautiful city in the world." "Wherever you go, you won't have time for sightseeing," said Percy, making no secret of his annoyance. Maud didn't seem to care. "It's a pity," she said, "then I'd like to go too." "Then what do you think about dangerous missions?" Paul continued to ask. "No problem," Maud said briskly, "I'm not afraid." You'll be scared then, Paul thought, but he said nothing. As they drove north from Baker Street, they passed bomb-ravaged workers’ quarters, with at least one house on every street reduced to a black husk or reduced to rubble. Paul was to meet Flick outside the prison, and the two interviewed Ruby Roman together.Percy was going on to Hendon, to see Miss Denise Bowyer. With the steering wheel in his hands, Percy confidently steered up and down the dirty streets.Paul said, "You know London very well." "I was born near here," Percy replied. Paul was intrigued on a whim, knowing that it was rare for a child from a poor family to end up as a colonel in the British Army. "What does your father do for a living?" "Sell coal by cart." "He has his own business?" "No, he works for a coal merchant." "Did you go to school nearby?" Percy smiled. He knew that the other party was checking his background, but he didn't seem to mind. "A local vicar helped me get a bursary and get into a good school. I got my London accent out there." "Is it intentional?" "Not on purpose. I'll tell you a story, I was in politics before the war. I was always asked, 'How does someone with an accent like yours become a Socialist?' I explained that I had been whipped at school to lose my accent. That answer always shuts up pompous people." Percy parked the car on a tree-lined street.Paul looked out and saw a fantastic castle with battlements and towers and tall pinnacles. "Is this a prison?" Percy made a resigned gesture. "Victorian architecture." Flick was waiting at the door, wearing the uniform of the Emergency Nurses Corps, a four-pocket tunic, a pair of culottes, and a small turned-up hat.A belt cinched her slender waist, making her look even smaller, and a beautiful lock of curly hair escaped from under the hat.Paul stared in amazement for a long while. "She's a really pretty girl," he said. "She's married," said Percy flatly. He also gave me an early warning, which Paul thought was amusing, and he asked, "With whom?" Percy paused, then said, "I think you should know too. It's Michel of the French Resistance, leader of Bollinger's group." "Oh, thanks." Paul got out of the car, and Percy drove on.He thought Flick might be angry that he and Percy had culled so few people from the file.Paul had only seen her twice, and both times she had yelled at him.She seemed happy now, though, and when he mentioned Maud to her, she said: "Looks like we've got three players, including me, so half the job is done, and it's only two o'clock in the afternoon. point." Paul nodded, this is also an angle to look at the problem.He was in a hurry, but saying that didn't solve the problem. The entrance to Holloway is a medieval porter's house with several long, arrow-shaped windows. "Why didn't the whole thing come together and build an iron gate and a drawbridge?" Paul said.Entering the courtyard through the gatehouse, several women in dark clothes are planting vegetables.In London, every little piece of unused land has been planted with vegetables. The prison loomed before them, with stone monsters guarding the doors, and huge winged griffins clutching keys and shackles in their claws.On both sides of the house at the main entrance are connected four-storey buildings, and each floor has a long row of narrow pointed windows. "What the hell is this place!" Paul exclaimed. "The suffragettes went on hunger strikes here," Flick told him. "Percy's wife was force-fed here." "my God." They walked in, and the air smelled acridly of bleach, as if the establishment were counting on disinfectants to kill the germs of crime.Paul and Flick found the office of Miss Lindley, a barrel-shaped assistant in charge with a hard, fat face. "I don't know why you want to see Roman," she said, before adding disapprovingly, "Apparently you're not going to tell me either." A look of contempt crept across Flick's face, and Paul saw that she seemed about to speak sarcasm, so he quickly interjected, "I'm sorry, but it's a secret." He said with a charming smile, "We were just ordered act." "We're all business-like," said Miss Lindley somewhat reassuringly. "I must warn you, however, that Roman is a very violent prisoner." "I understand. She's a murderer." "Yes. She ought to be hanged, but the law is too loose at the moment." "Indeed," Paul said, though he didn't think so at all. "At first she came in drunk, then she got into a fight on the playground and killed another prisoner, so she's awaiting a murder sentence." "A difficult fellow," said Flick with great interest. "Yes, Major. She looks reasonable at first glance, but don't let her fool you. She's easily irritated and can go into a fit in the blink of an eye." "She's going to die in a fit," Paul said. "You're quite right." "We're short on time," said Flick impatiently. "I want to see her now." Paul hastily added: "If it's convenient for you, Miss Lindley." "Okay." The assistant in charge led them out.The hard ground and bare walls gave it a cathedral-like echo, with distant shouts, doors slamming, and boots clinking in iron corridors forming a constant background of sound.They came to the meeting room through a narrow corridor and a steep flight of stairs. Ruby Roman was already there.She had dark brown skin, straight dark hair, and fierce black eyes.However, she is not a traditional gypsy beauty, her hooked nose and upturned chin make her look more like a dwarf. Miss Lindley left, leaving a guard watching through a glass door in the next room.Flick, Paul, and the prisoner sat around a battered table with a dirty ashtray on top.Paul had a pack of Lucky Strikes with him, and he put them on the table and said in French, "You can take what you want." Ruby took two, one in his mouth and the other behind his ear. Paul asked a few general questions to break the silence.She answered clearly and politely, but with a heavy accent. "My father was traveling," she said. "When I was a little girl, we traveled around France with a big caravan troupe. My father had an air gun stand and my mother sold hot scones with chocolate sauce. .” "How did you come to England?" "When I was fourteen, I fell in love with an English sailor named Freddy whom I met in Calais. We married—of course, I lied that I was old enough—and came to London. He died years ago, his ship sunk by a German U-boat in the Atlantic." She said, trembling, "cold grave. Poor Freddie." Flick was not interested in these family histories, so he asked, "Tell me how you got in here." "I made myself a charcoal fire pit and sold pancakes on the street. But the police kept coming and harassing me. One night I had a bit of brandy - I admit, that's what I did - somehow I just Got into an argument." She switched to Cockney English, "The police told me to get the hell out of here, and I started yelling. He pushed me hard, and I beat him." Paul looked at her, amused.She was only of medium height and solidly built, but she had large hands and muscular legs.He could imagine how the London police were being flattened by her. Flick asked, "What happened next?" "Two buddies of his came over from the corner of the street, and I couldn't leave quickly because I drank brandy. They kicked me and caught me in the cell." Seeing that Paul frowned incomprehensibly, she added , "That's the police station. In short, the first policeman was embarrassed to say that I attacked the policeman and refused to admit that a girl's house was put on the ground, so he imprisoned me for drinking and disturbing the law and order for fourteen days." "Then you had another fight." She glanced at Flick. "I don't know how to explain it to you people. Half the girls are crazy, and they all have weapons. You can sharpen a spoon like a knife; or sharpen a piece of wire, and make a An awl; it can also be twisted into a noose with thread. The guards never intervene in the fights between prisoners, they would rather watch us pull each other. So many people are bruised." Paul was shocked, he had never been in contact with a prisoner before.The scene Ruby described was terrifying.Perhaps she was exaggerating, but she seemed calm and honest.She didn't care if people believed her story, she just told the facts dryly and slowly, looking like she lacked interest, but she had nothing better to do. Flick asked, "What made you kill that woman?" "She stole from me." "what?" "A bar of soap." My God, thought Paul, she could kill for a bar of soap. Flick asked, "How do you do it?" "I brought back the soap." "and then?" "She came to the door with a stick made out of a chair leg with a pipe joint attached to it, and she hit me on the head with that. I thought she was going to kill me. But I had a knife. I picked it up. There was a long piece of broken glass, and the wide end was tied up with an old bicycle tire into a knife handle. Once I stuck the knife down her throat, she couldn't hit me a second time." Flick resisted trembling and said, "This should be considered self-defense." "No, because you have to prove that you couldn't have run away. Besides, I made a knife out of a piece of glass, so that's premeditated murder." Paul stood up. "Wait here with the guard, please," he said to Ruby. "Let's get out." Ruby smiled at him, and for the first time she looked pleasant, if not pretty. "You're very kind," she said gratefully. In the corridor, Paul said, "What a scary story!" "Don't forget, people here say they are innocent." Flick said cautiously. "Anyway, I think she may have been punished too harshly." "I don't know. I think she's a killer." "So we don't want her." "On the contrary," Flick said, "that's what I want." They go back into the room.Flick said to Ruby, "Would you like to do a dangerous job if you could get out of here?" She asked instead: "Are we going to France?" Flick raised an eyebrow. "How did you even think of asking that question?" "When you first spoke French to me, I guess it was to test whether I could speak French." "I can't go into too much detail about this kind of work." "I bet it's about sabotage behind enemy lines." Paul was shocked, and Ruby understood the problem fairly quickly.Seeing his astonishment, Ruby went on: "At first I thought you wanted me to be your interpreter, but there was no danger in that. So we might be going to France. But the British troops could do more than bomb bridges and railway lines. What are you doing?" Paul said nothing, but marveled at her reasoning ability.Ruby frowned and said, "What I don't understand is an all-female team." Flick's eyes widened. "How did you come up with this?" "If you need a man, why are you still looking for me? You must be desperate. It is not easy to get a female murderer out of prison, even for some important war mission. So, what is special about me? I dare to fight Yes, but there are hundreds of French-speaking tough guys who are already ready to participate in this kind of covert activity. So, the only reason I was picked was because I was a woman, and presumably a woman is unlikely to arouse the suspicion of the Gestapo... Am I right?" "I have nothing to say," Flick said. "Well, if you want me, I'll do it. Can I have another cigarette?" "Of course," Paul said. "You have to understand that this job is dangerous," Flick said. "Got it," said Ruby, lighting a lucky lottery, "it can't be any more dangerous than being in this damn prison." After leaving Ruby, they returned to the assistant director's office. "I need your help, Miss Lindley," said Paul, again flattering, "tell me what you need to do to release Ruby Roman." "Let her go? She's a murderer! Why should she be released?" "I'm afraid I can't tell you. But I can assure you that if you knew where she was going, you wouldn't consider it a lucky escape, but quite the contrary." "Understood," she said, not quite calming down. "I'm going to get her out of here tonight," Paul went on, "but I don't want to put you in any kind of embarrassing situation. So I want to know which department's approval you need." What he really wants to find out is her What excuse can be found to hinder this. "I cannot release her under any circumstances," Miss Lindley said. "She has been brought back here by the Magistrates' Court, so only the court can release her." Paul asked patiently: "So, what procedures do you think are needed?" "She has to be escorted by the police, brought before the magistrate, and the public prosecutor or a representative of the public prosecutor needs to tell the magistrate that all charges against Roman are dropped, and then the judge will graciously declare her free." Thinking of all the troubles ahead, Paul frowned. "She should have signed the paperwork to join the army before going before a judge so that once the court releases her, she is under military discipline ... otherwise she might just walk away." Miss Lindley was still dubious. "Why are they dropping the charges?" "The prosecutor is a government official, isn't he?" "yes." "That's no problem." Paul stood up. "I'll come back here at night, take the magistrate, and the prosecution department, and the army driver, and take Ruby to... her next door." A way station. Do you see any obstacles?" Miss Lindley shook her head and said: "I do as I am told, Major, as you do." "Ok." They left there.Outside, Paul stopped and looked behind him. "I've never been to a prison," he said. "I don't know what I expected to see, but it's not like something out of a fairy tale." His comments about the building sounded out of place, and Flick's face darkened. "Several women have been hanged here," she said. "It's not a myth at all." Paul wondered why her temper had become so bad. "I guess you consider yourself a prisoner here," he said, and suddenly it dawned on him, "because you might end up in a prison in France." Flick looked taken aback. "I think you're right," she said. "I don't know why I hate this place so much. It seems to be because of it." She might be hanged too, Paul thought, but he kept the thought to himself. They walked all the way to the nearest subway station.Flick thought about something. "You're perceptive," she said, "and you know how to get Miss Lindley on our side. I might offend her and make myself an enemy." "That's not the case." "That's right, you turned Ruby, a tigress, into a kitten." "I don't want this kind of woman to hate me." Flick smiled and said, "Your words made me self-aware." Hearing her say that, Paul was very proud, but he was already thinking about the next question. "Before midnight, we have to gather another half of the team and arrive at the training center in Hampshire." "We call it 'Ladies' Finishing School,'" Flick said. "Yeah, now there's Diana Caulfield, Maud Valentine, Ruby Roman." Paul nodded coldly and said: "A slack aristocrat, a goblin who can't distinguish between fantasy and reality, a violent gypsy murderer." When he thought that Flick might be hanged by the Gestapo, his mood was the same as that of Percy at the time. Worried about the talent of the recruiter, getting restless. "Beggars can't be so picky." Flick said cheerfully, not as bad as before. "But we still haven't found either an explosion expert or a phone mechanic." Flick looked at his watch. "It's only four o'clock in the afternoon. Maybe Special Operations has taught Denise Bowyer how to blow up a telephone exchange." Paul smiled, Flick's optimism was overwhelming. They arrived at the subway station and caught a train.They couldn't talk about the mission because they were all passengers."I found out a little bit about Percy this morning as we drove through the neighborhood where he grew up," Paul said. "His mannerisms, even his accent, were picked up from British high society, but that's just the appearance. Beneath his respectable old tweed coat, there's the heart of a street-fighting teenager." "He said he was whipped at school for speaking with an underclass accent." "He goes to school on a bursary. This kind of child is generally very difficult in British schools that hate the poor and love the rich. I know this, and I also go to school with a bursary." "Have you changed your original accent, too?" "No. I grew up in the Earl's house, and my accent has remained the same." No wonder, Paul thought, that Flick and Percy got on so well: they were both from the lower classes, working their way up the social ladder.Unlike Americans, the British see nothing wrong with class prejudice, although they are appalled to hear Southerners say that blacks are inferior. "I think Percy likes you very much," Paul said. "I love him like a father." The feeling seemed real, Paul thought, but it made her relationship with Percy very clear to Paul. Flick had arranged to meet Percy at Orchard Palace.When they got there, they saw a car parked outside the building.Paul knew the driver who was driving, one of Monty's entourages. "Sir, there is someone waiting for you in the car," the driver said. As soon as the rear door opened, Paul's sister Caroline got out. "Oh, my God!" he said.She threw herself into his arms, and Paul held her, saying, "What are you doing in London?" "I can't tell you, but I have a few hours to spare and I begged the guy at Monty's office to lend me a car to see you. Buy me a drink?" "I don't have a minute to spare," he said, "not even if you came. But you can take me to Whitehall. I've got to find someone called the Public Prosecutor." "Then I'll take you there, we have something to say in the car." "Well then," he said, "let's go!"