Chapter 30 Chapter Twenty Nine

The "Jackdaws" headed north all the way in a small passenger car and walked all morning.It was a slow journey through leafy woodlands and fields of green barley, winding through sleepy market towns and heading west around London.The countryside here seems to have been forgotten by war, and perhaps it has been since the 20th century, and Flick hopes it will remain so.As they passed through old Winchester, Flick thought of Reims, another cathedral city, and thought of the uniformed, strutting Nazis on the streets and the rampaging Gestapo in black cars, and she prayed secretly and thank the English Channel for holding them back.She sat next to Paul, looked out the window at the fields for a while, and before long - having been up all night, they had been making love - she fell asleep with her head on his shoulder.

At two in the afternoon they reached the village of Sandy in Bedford.The coach came down a winding country road, took an unpaved forest path, and then came to a large mansion called Templesford Apartments.Flickr used to come here and it was the staging point for the nearby Tempsford Airport.The peace of mind suddenly disappeared.For all its 18th-century elegance, the place symbolized for her the unbearable tension of the hours before flying into enemy territory. They were not in time for lunch, but the restaurant prepared tea and sandwiches for them.Flick drank his tea, but was too impatient to eat anything.But everyone else gobbled it up.They were then taken to their respective rooms.

After a while, the women assembled in the library.The room looked more like a wardrobe on a movie set.The room was lined with racks of clothes on hangers, hat boxes and shoe boxes here and there, cardboard boxes labeled "underpants," "socks," and "handkerchiefs" in French, with a trestle table and Several sewing machines. Dressing them was Madame Guillemin, a slender woman of about fifty, in a blouse and a fancy jacket.With a pair of glasses on her nose and a measuring tape hanging around her neck, she spoke to them in standard French with a Parisian accent: "As you know, French clothing is distinctly different from British clothing. I can't say that French clothes are more fashionable, but you know, they are... more fashionable." She gave a French shrug and the girls laughed.

It wasn't a matter of fashion, Flick thought sullenly: French coats were usually ten inches longer than British ones, and there were so many differences in details that any omission could have fatal consequences, exposing agents.Therefore, all the clothes here are bought from France, or exchanged for new British clothes with refugees, and some are made according to the original French, and then worn out so that they are not so new. "It's summer, so we wear cotton clothes, light wool coats or rain jackets." She waved to the two young women sitting in front of the sewing machine, "If the clothes don't fit well, my assistant will help to modify them. "

"We need clothes that are very expensive, but well-worn. We need to look like famous women so that we don't arouse the suspicion of the Gestapo," Flick said. Drop hats, gloves, belts and instantly look humbler. Madame Guillemin starts with Ruby.She watched Ruby carefully for a minute, then brought a navy blue coat and a tan raincoat from the rack. "Try these clothes. The coat is a man's, but the French are not so picky these days." She pointed across the room. "You can change behind the screen, and if you feel embarrassed, you can go to the The suite behind the desk. We all think that's where the owner of the house secretly reads pornography." Everyone laughed again, except for Flick, who had heard Madame Guillemin tell the joke before.

The seamstress looked at Greta carefully, and then said, "I'll pick out for you later." She finished choosing for Jell-O, and then Diana and Maud, who all went behind the screen.Then she turned to Flick and whispered, "Is this a joke?" "what do you mean?" She turned to Greta and said, "You're a man." Flick sighed softly and turned away, frustrated.The seamstress saw through Greta's disguise in a matter of seconds, which was an ominous sign indeed.The lady said again: "You can fool many people, but you can't fool me. I can guarantee that."

Greta asked, "Why?" Madame Guillemin shrugged and said: "The proportions are all wrong—your shoulders are too broad, your hips are too narrow, your legs are muscular, your hands are too big—these things can be seen by experts at a glance." Flick said eagerly, "She has to be a woman for this mission, please dress her up as best you can." "Of course—but, for God's sake, don't let the tailor see her." "No problem. There won't be too many tailors in the Gestapo." Flick's confidence was feigned, and she didn't want Madame Guillemin to see how anxious she was.

The seamstress looked at Greta again and said, "I'll give you a contrasting skirt and blouse that will reduce your height, and a three-quarter-length coat." She selected the clothes and handed them to Greta. Greta looked at the clothes with distaste.She wanted to make herself more attractive.Still, she has no complaints. "I'd be ashamed and really have to lock myself in the suite," she said. In the end Madame Guillemin found Flick an apple-green dress and matching coat. "The color will accentuate your eyes," she said. "Since you don't like to show off, why don't you look pretty? I'll help you show your charm and get rid of all your troubles."

The dress was so baggy that it fit Flick like a tent, but she had a belt around her waist. "You're too fashionable, like a French girl," said Madame Guillemin.Flick hadn't told her that the main purpose of the belt was to carry the gun. Everyone put on new clothes and walked around the room, adorning themselves and giggling.Madame Guillemin had chosen well; they all liked their clothes, but some of them needed to be altered. "We'll change the clothes now, and you can choose some accessories," said Mrs. They quickly let go of their initial scruples and laughed and joked around the house in their underwear, trying on hats and shoes, scarves and handbags.Flick thought that they temporarily forgot the dangers that lay ahead, and enjoyed the simple joy of putting on new clothes.

Greta came out of the suite looking stunning in all her attire.Flick looked at her with interest.She looked stylish with the collar of her plain white blouse turned up, and a shapeless coat that fell over her shoulders like a cape.Madame Guillemin just raised her eyebrows without comment. Flick's clothes need to be cut short.Taking advantage of the processing time, she studied the coat carefully.Her experience as an undercover agent had given her a keen eye for detail, and she hurriedly inspected seams, linings, buttons and pockets, making sure everything was French.She saw nothing wrong with it.On the collar label is written "Rafayette Department Store" or "Galeries Lafayette", which is what Chinese people usually call "Galeries Lafayette". .

Flick showed Madame Guillemin his lapel knife.The knife was only three inches long, with a thin, but sharp blade.It has a small handle but no handle.Comes in a thin leather scabbard with small holes for threading. "I want you to sew it under the lapel," said Flick. Madame Guillemin nodded and said: "I can sew." She gave everyone a small stack of undergarments, two of each kind, with the labels of the French shop on them.The underwear she selected is not only the right size, but also the most suitable style for everyone. Corsets for Jelly, beautiful lace petticoats for Maud, navy blue bloomers and boneless bras for Diana, simple underwear and drawers for Ruby and Flick. "The handkerchiefs bear the logos of the different laundries in Reims," ​​Madame Guillemin said proudly. In the end she pulled out an assortment of bags: a canvas duffle, a Gladstone tote, a shoulder bag, and cheap luggage in different colors and sizes.Every woman gets one.It contained toothbrushes, toothpaste, dusting powder, shoe polish, cigarettes and matches, all French brands.Even though it was only used for a short time, Flick insisted on giving everyone a full kit. "It must be remembered," said Flick, "that you are to take nothing with you except these things which are given to you this afternoon. This depends on your life." Nobody giggled anymore at the thought of being in danger in just a few hours. Flick said, "Okay, everyone, please go back to your rooms, put on your French clothes, including underwear, and go downstairs for dinner." A bar has been set up in the main living room of the mansion.When Flick went in, there were already a dozen people inside, some wearing RAF uniforms.Flick had learned from his previous visits that these men had been assigned to fly secret missions to France.On a blackboard are the names or code names of those who left tonight, followed by the time they left the house.Flickr sees it says: Aristotle - 19:50 Captain Jenkins and Lieutenant Ramsay - 20:05 All jackdaws - 20:30 Colgate and Bontle - 21:00 Mr. Bubbles, Paradox, Saxophone - 22:05 She looked at her watch.It's half past six, and there's still two hours left. She sat in the bar, looking around, wondering who of these people would survive and who would die in battle.Some of them were very young, cracking jokes while smoking cigarettes, and didn't seem to care.The older men, with resolute faces, sipped their whiskey and gin, grimly aware that this might be their last drink.She thought of their parents, their wives or girlfriends, their children.Tonight's expedition will leave an indelible sadness in the hearts of some of them. Her gloomy thoughts were interrupted by the two people who appeared before her, and she couldn't help being taken aback.Simon Fortescue, the sophisticated bureaucrat of MI6, entered the bar in his pinstriped jacket - accompanied by Denise Bowyer. Flick's face fell. "I'm glad I caught you, Felicity," Simon said.Without waiting for an invitation, he pulled a stool for Denise. "Gin and tonic, thank you, treat. What would you like to drink, Ms. Denise?" "Martini, dry." "What about you, Felicity?" Flick did not answer his question. "She should be in Scotland!" she said. "Look, there seems to be some misunderstanding here. Denise told me all about that cop buddy—" "There is no misunderstanding," Flick said forcefully, "Denise failed the course, it's as simple as that." Denise snorted in disgust. Fortescue said, "I don't know how a bright girl from a good family can't pass—" "She's a bitch." "what?" "She can't shut her damn mouth. She's not trustworthy. Don't let her walk around so freely!" Denise said, "You vicious and disrespectful woman." Fortescue suppressed his temper and kept his voice as low as possible. "That's right, her brother is the Marquis of Inverozzi, who is very close to the Prime Minister. Inverozzi personally asked me to give her such a chance. You see, it's really inappropriate to brush her down." Flick raised his voice: "Let's just order." One or two officers next to him turned to look at them. "You want me to take someone you can't trust on a dangerous mission behind enemy lines for your upper-class friends, don't you?" She was talking when Percy and Paul walked in.Percy glared at Fortescue with undisguised hostility.Paul said, "Did I hear something wrong?" "I brought Denise with me because, to be honest, it would be embarrassing for the government not to let her go," Fortescue said. "If she goes, I'll be in danger!" Flick interrupted. "You're wasting your efforts. She's been fired from the group." "Look, I really don't want to show my title—" "What title?" Flick said. "I step down from the rank of Colonel in the Household Cavalry—" "Retired!" "—Now I am a civilian, equivalent to a brigadier general." "Don't be funny." Flick said, "You are not even a member of the army." "I order you to take Denise." "Then I have to think about how I should answer," said Flick. "That's all right. I'm sure you won't regret it." "Okay, I'm ready to answer. Fuck you." Fortis Hill blushed.He had probably never heard a girl tell her to fuck off.He was uncharacteristically unable to utter a word. "That's good!" said Denise. "We know who we're dealing with." Paul said, "You're dealing with me." He turned to Fortescue and said, "I'm in command of this operation, and I'm not going to let Denise into the team under any circumstances. If you want to argue, Just call Monty." "Well said, lad," added Percy. Fortescue was able to speak at last, and, waving a finger at Flick, he said, "You'll see then, Ms. Clarets, you'll regret saying that to me." He stood up from the stool. "I'm sorry, Ms. Denise, but I think we've done all we can." They left. "Stupid fool," Percy muttered. "Let's have dinner," said Flick. Others are already in the restaurant.It was the Jackdaws' last meal in England, so Percy gave everyone an expensive gift: a silver cigarette case for each smoker, and a gold powder case for each non-smoker. "They all have the French flag on them, so you can take them with you," he said, and the ladies were delighted, but their spirits were dampened by his next words, "These boxes are useful, too. Very useful when you're really in trouble." It’s easy to pawn off and exchange for emergency expenses.” The food was plentiful, and it was considered a banquet by wartime standards, and the "Jackdaws" feasted on each one.Flick didn't feel very hungry, but she forced herself to eat a large steak, which she knew she wouldn't be able to eat in a week in France. After they finished their dinner, it was time to leave for the airport.They went to their rooms to get their French bags and got into the car.The car took them down another country road, crossed a railway line, and approached a cluster of farm buildings on the edge of a large, level field.A sign showed this as Gibraltar Farm, but Flick knew it was the RAF Tempsford Airfield, and the barns were heavily camouflaged Neeson-style pre-barracks. They entered what looked like a cowshed and saw a uniformed Air Force officer standing there, guarding various equipment on iron racks.Everyone was searched before the gear was handed out.There was a box of English matches in Maud's trunk; a torn newspaper from the Daily Mirror was plucked from Diana's pocket, and it contained a half-finished crossword puzzle, but she swore she had intended to keep it Stayed on the plane; as for the gambling-addicted Jell-O, she brought a pack of playing cards, each stamped "Made in Birmingham". Paul gave them ID cards, ration cards, clothing coupons.Each woman gave a hundred thousand francs, mostly dirty thousand-franc notes.This amounted to five hundred pounds, enough to buy two Fords. They also got weapons, .45 Colt automatic pistols and sharp double-edged assault knives.Flick wanted neither of these.She carried her own gun, a Browning 9mm automatic.She wears a belt around her waist to which she can hang her gun, or a submachine gun in a pinch.She also uses her lapel knife instead of an assault knife.Assault knives are longer and more lethal, but somewhat bulky.The lapel knife has a huge advantage. When an agent is questioned to show her ID, she can freely reach into her inner pocket and then pull out the knife at the last moment. In addition, they also prepared Diana with a Lee-Enfield rifle and equipped Flick with a Sten Mark II submachine gun with a suppressor. The plastic explosives needed for Jelly were divided equally between the six women, so that even if a pack or two were lost, there would still be enough left over to complete the mission. Maud said, "It's gonna blow me up!" "Jelly" explained that it was actually very safe. "I know a guy who thought it was chocolate and ate some," she said. "I'll tell you," she added, "he hasn't had a lot of stomach trouble." There were also regular round Mills grenades for them, with the regular tortoiseshell casings, but Flick insisted on the general-purpose square-can grenades, since they could also be used as dynamite detonators. Each woman was given a fountain pen with a suicide pill in its empty cap. Before putting on their flight suits, everyone was forced to go to the bathroom once.The flight suit has pistol pockets, allowing agents to defend themselves immediately after landing, if required.They don their jackets, helmets and goggles, and finally, parachute harnesses. Paul asked Flick to come out for a while.He also holds the most important special pass that allows these women to enter the castle as cleaners.Should a Jackdaw be captured by the Gestapo, the pass would reveal the true purpose of the mission.Just to be on the safe side, he gave Flick all the passes to hand out at the last minute. Then he kissed her.She kissed him back with desperate passion, grabbing his body against her, shoving her tongue shamelessly into his mouth until she couldn't breathe. "Come back alive." He whispered into her ear. A careful cough interrupted them.Flick smelled Percy's pipe.She breaks away from the embrace. Percy said to Paul, "The pilot is waiting to have a word with you." Paul nodded, turned and walked away. "Just to make sure he understands that Flick is the commander," Percy said behind him. "Sure." Paul replied. Percy's face was ugly, which gave Flick a premonition. "What's wrong?" she said. He took a piece of paper from his coat pocket and handed it to Flick. "A motorbike courier from London sent it from SOS HQ just before we left the house. It was from Brian Standish last night." He drew heavily on his pipe, Blow out a puff of smoke. Flick read the note in the twilight of the evening.This is a telegram translation.After reading the above content, she felt as if she had been hit hard in the stomach.She looked up, very depressed. "Brian was caught by the Gestapo!" "Only a few seconds." "That's what it said." "Is there reason to doubt anything?" "Oh, fuck it," she said aloud.A passing pilot looked this way suddenly, unable to believe that a woman would say such a thing.Flick crumpled up the paper and threw it on the floor. Percy bent down and picked it up, smoothing out the creases. "It's better to calm down and think about it," he said. Flick took a deep breath. "We have a rule," she said decisively, "that if any agent is captured by the enemy, no matter what the circumstances are, he must report back to London immediately." "Then you wouldn't have a wireless operator." "It can be done without me. What's the matter with this Charenton?" "I guess it's natural. Ms. Remus may have recruited someone to help her." "All recruits are vetted by you in London." "You know very well that such regulations have never been followed." "At least they should be approved by the local commander." "Yes, he's approved - Michele is satisfied, this Charenton is credible. Charenton saved Bryan from the Gestapo. What happened in the cathedral couldn't have been intentional, could it be?" ?” "Perhaps such a thing never happened. The telegram came directly from Gestapo headquarters." "It's got the right security codes, though. Besides, they're not going to make up a catch-and-release story. They know it'll arouse our suspicions, so just say he arrived safely." "You're right, but it just doesn't feel right to me." "Yes, me too," he said, which surprised her, "but I don't know what to do." She sighed. "We must take risks. There is no time for precautionary measures. If we do not blow up the telephone exchange within three days, it will be too late. We must go anyway." Percy nodded.Flick saw tears in his eyes.He put the pipe in his mouth and took it out again. "Good girl," he said, and his voice dropped to a whisper, "Good girl."