The Darkest Hour(38)

“Bijou!” one of the men calls out. “Where is that girl?”

Girl? Is there a woman with the patrols? Holding my breath, my gaze falls upon a moving shadow. My skin shivers when I hear a dog’s whine.

Bijou’s whine turns into a bark.

“Bijou!” The patrols trundle back toward us and the beast starts to growl, a low rumbling sound that tells me she isn’t a dainty lapdog that you’d find under Marie Antoinette’s arm. Hardly a second passes before Bijou is upon us. I swing the pistol toward her, but before I can pull the trigger, she pounces on me, saliva dripping from her mouth. I manage to hold her off, but the gun topples out of my hand in the process.

Shouts fill my ears. The patrols cry out, and Dorner lets out a yelp as he awakens to the madness. Sabine pushes him out of the way and hurls herself at the Frenchmen, twisting one man’s arms behind his back and snatching the rifle from his grasp. She swings it into the back of his head, knocking him out cold. While the other patrol fumbles for his pistol, Bijou snaps at me again, inches from my neck. The thought hits me that all of my training, all of my work in Paris, might come undone at the jaws of a French guard dog.

A gunshot claps through the air. Bijou howls, then whimpers and staggers away. I blink furiously, expecting to see Sabine with the smoking gun. Instead, I find Dorner standing over me with his glasses askew and my pistol pen in hand.

“Are you hurt?” he says, panting.

I don’t get the chance to answer him. The second policeman takes off running. Sabine aims her stolen rifle at him, shooting twice, but the night is on his side. The bullet goes astray, and he begins crying for help, screaming for reinforcements.

Merde. Over on the next hill, I see them. Flashlights. Shouting. More police.

I grab Dorner’s arm and reach for Sabine’s. “There’s more coming! We have to run.”

Sabine pushes us away from her. “Take him to the drop-off!” she says to me. “I’ll route the patrols away from you.”

“We go together!”

“No, Dorner has to make it to the coast. There’s nothing more important than that. One of us stays with him, the other leads the Nazis away.”

“Then I’ll route the patrols. I took the bicycle last time.” If she’s trying to “help” me again, it’s not going to work.

“What are you even talking about? I’m faster than you. I can outrun them. Go, before we lose more time. That’s an order!”

The shouts hit a crescendo. We can’t waste another second, but I can’t let her go. She has a stolen rifle to her name and nothing else.

“But—”

“He’s the mission! Don’t forget that.”

She’s right. We’re Covert Operations. The mission always comes first—and this might be the most important one we will ever undertake. “Watch your back.”

Her face is grim when she tells me, “The same to you. Now go.”

I won’t make her say that again. Taking Dorner by the wrist, I lead him west toward Auderville, toward the beach, toward the finish line. I won’t look behind me, either, because if I do, I might just turn back.

“Will she be all right?” Dorner breathes out.

“Of course she will,” I say softly. “She’s the best we have.” And that’s the truth. Then, with the ocean crashing into our ears, we run.





We fly over the wet hills. Our legs stumble on the slick grass and stone, and our ears echo with the fresh shouts of the patrols. Every step we take leads us farther away from Sabine, and my heart hurts at that thought. She might be fast, but not even she can outrun their bullets.

A part of me wants to double back to Sabine’s side, but the other part of me knows that we have to stay ahead of the soldiers. There might be a handful of them now, but the Nazis will soon send in reinforcements. More soldiers. More dogs. More bullets that we won’t be able to dodge.

The rain keeps falling. Our clothes soak through and cling against our skin, but I don’t even think about stopping until we’re so out of breath that we might collapse. I search for a place to hide, but there aren’t any trees or crumbling buildings to shield us from sight. We’re out in the open with fields all around us, so I drop to my knees and flatten onto my stomach. Dorner doesn’t need any coaxing to do the same.

“We’ll rest for a few minutes,” I say between breaths, “and no more.” A peek at my watch tells me that we need to make up for lost time. We have an hour and a half until we have to reach the beach. There won’t be any second chances if we miss that submarine.

While Dorner wipes the rain from his glasses, I scan the horizon for any trace of a flashlight or headlight that could give away the Nazis’ location, but I find nothing except for the black clouds overhead and the shadows of the surrounding hills. Though I know that the patrols could be skulking around the next corner, like coiled-up snakes waiting for us to step on them.

“Any sign of Odette? Will she attempt to rendezvous with us?” whispers Dorner.

I shake my head. Sabine wouldn’t take that risk. She’ll lead the Nazis away from us with her last breath if necessary. A twinge plucks at my chest, and I hope with everything inside of me that she’ll be able to escape. If she doesn’t … I won’t let her sacrifice be in vain.