Camp X (14 page)

“Aaaahhhh!” I screamed as I shot off into space and then plunged down, head first, still clinging to the tube with one hand. I dropped beneath the water and my grip on the tube pulled me back to the surface. I looked back. I'd just come over a waterfall! It had to be more than six feet high!

I turned back around. Jack was standing in shallow water off to the side. He was holding his punctured inner tube—or what was left of it—in one hand.

“Are you okay?” I yelled.

“Be quiet!” he hissed.

I swam over to him, pulling my tube behind me. Jack was now sitting on the shore. The bottom rose up quickly, making it shallow enough for me to put my feet down. As I waded in, Jack untied the oiled sack from the remains of the tube. He opened up the flap and turned the bag upside down. Water poured out.

“I'd be afraid to look inside,” I said.

“I'm not going to,” Jack muttered. “We promised we'd deliver them. We didn't promise what shape they'd be in when they got there.”

“What are we going to do now?” I asked.

“We still go down the creek.”

“Are you going to share my tube?”

“Not much choice.”

Jack slipped the box of cigars back into the oiled bag—not that it really mattered much now. He then took the twine and tied it around my tube.

“You climb back in,” he said. “And I'll hang on to the back.”

Jack steadied the tube while I climbed onto it. He pushed us back into the middle and we started to move. There didn't seem to be much current. The waterfall drained into a large pool, and the creek was much wider after that.

“Keep your eyes open,” Jack said. “One waterfall was one more than I wanted to go over.”

I hadn't even thought about that. Quickly the bushes and trees on the banks became sparse and then vanished completely. In their place bullrushes and marsh grass rose up on both sides of us. Jack continued to kick, pushing us forward slowly. Up ahead there were a number of channels cutting through the growth.

“Which way do we go?” I asked.

“We'll go to the left. That's the closest to the camp.”

We drifted down the channel, closed in on all sides. We were moving even more slowly now.

“Is there any current at all?” I asked.

“Not much. Climb off and help me kick.”

Reluctantly I slid off and into the water. It didn't look particularly clean, but it certainly felt warm. I joined Jack and started to kick my feet. Slowly we moved forward.

“I can touch,” Jack said. He stood up and the water was below his waist.

I set my feet down. It was soggy and I sank slightly into the muddy bottom. Good thing I was wearing my shoes. Gradually the reeds gave way as the water got shallower and shallower. Finally Jack picked up the tube and carried it under his arm. We climbed up a sandy slope and out of the water. I slumped to the ground and Jack plopped down beside me. Up ahead there were a few trees and some shrubs that blocked our view. They also blocked anybody's view of us.

“We'll leave the tube right here and walk in,” Jack said.

What I really wanted to do was just stay there on the sand, at least for a while. I wanted to dry out and rest, but I knew we didn't have time to stop. I trailed behind Jack as he moved into the trees. At least there was more cover there.

“I'm trying to picture where the buildings are from here,” Jack said. “They're more on the other side of the property, but the stream cut in sharper than I thought it was going to.”

“I don't think the trees go on much farther,” I said.

Slowly we crept to the edge of the cover. Hiding behind a bush we looked out. There was a large, empty, open field stretching out in front of us. In the distance, directly across, were the buildings. We weren't as far away as we'd thought!

“We're practically there,” Jack said.

“
Practically
and
there
are two different things. What now?” I asked.

“We can follow the trees and try to go around,” Jack suggested.

I looked first in one direction and then the others. Off to one side, way in the distance, trees ringed the meadow.

“Can we do that and still get home in time?” I asked.

Jack shook his head. “Probably not. Do you see anybody?”

“Nobody . . . why?”

“I was just thinking.”

“Not about making a run for it, I hope.”

“It wouldn't take us more than sixty seconds if we ran flat out, twice as long if we just sort of trotted. Let's try it.”

“Jack, we really shouldn't do—”

Before I could finish Jack had jumped up and started to jog across the field. I had no choice. I burst out of the bushes after him. I swivelled my head from side to side. There was nobody in sight. Maybe we could make it. I came alongside Jack. The buildings were getting closer and closer. I started to pump my legs faster, trying to move more quickly, and pulled slightly ahead of my brother.

“Shoot!” Jack said as he grabbed my arm and forcibly pulled me to a stop.

“What's wrong?” I sputtered, before I saw the answer in the distance. A jeep had popped out from a gap between the trees and was moving along the edge of the field.

“We lose,” Jack said. “There's no way they can miss seeing us.”

“I guess you're . . . hold on . . . maybe they
should
see us,” I said. “Hey!” I yelled, waving my hands in the air. “Over here!”

Jack grabbed me by the arm and spun me around. “What are you doing?”

I shook off his hand. “Making sure they see us. Hey, over here!”

The men in the jeep had now altered their course and were coming right for us.

“We still had a chance,” Jack said sullenly as the jeep closed in. “We could have made a break for it, or—”

“There was no way they would have missed us. Just shut up and let
me
do the talking this time.”

“Don't you tell
me
to shut up!” he snapped. “And what do you mean let
you
do the talking?”

“Shut up,” I repeated. “I have a plan.”

My brother looked as if he was going to take a swing at me, but he buttoned his lip.

The jeep rumbled toward us. There were two soldiers, a driver and another man in the passenger seat.

“Now remember . . . keep your trap shut,” I hissed at him as the jeep pulled to a stop beside us.

“Hi guys!” I called out. I recognized both of them from the different times we'd been caught. “We're looking for Bill, have you seen him?”

“Not for a while,” one of them answered.

“The Lieutenant-Colonel asked us to deliver this to Bill,” I said, taking the box from my brother's hand. “We were told
it was important and that he'd either be at the beach or over by the farmhouse.”

“What's in the package?” the other soldier asked.

I shrugged. “We're just delivery boys. They don't tell us what we're delivering. He just said it was important. Do you think you could give us a lift to the farmhouse?”

“We're going that way anyway, jump in,” the driver offered.

“Smooth,” Jack whispered to me as we circled around to the back and climbed in.

The jeep started up and tightly turned to head toward the buildings. The passenger turned around in his seat.

“I didn't expect to see you boys here again.” He yelled so his voice could be heard over the engine and the rushing air.

“They have us doing lots of different things,” Jack yelled back. “You'd be surprised what we're up to!”

The jeep bumped across the field until it hit a gravel road at the edge. The tires bit into the gravel as we sped along, but the driver slowed down as we passed by the first building. I saw the farmhouse right up ahead.

“You're in luck, boys, there's Bill!” the driver called out.

I stood slightly up and peered between the two men. There was Bill standing with the Lieutenant-Colonel and another man.

The jeep skidded to a stop right in front of them.

“Thanks for the ride!” I said to the men as I leaped over the side of the jeep.

“No problem,” one of them called back.

I looked up at Bill. He looked as if he'd seen a ghost.

“Here are your cigars,” I said as I handed him the box. “They might be a little wet.”

“Maybe you can give them back to Mr. Granger to pay off your end of the bet,” Jack suggested.

Bill stood there, silent, his mouth open. The Lieutenant-Colonel looked just as shocked.

“Perhaps somebody would be so good as to explain this to me,” the man beside them said. “Inside. Now. In private.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

“
PLEASE, GENTLEMEN, WOULD YOU
take a seat?” the man said as we entered the Lieutenant-Colonel's office.

He walked over and sat down on a chair right beside the ones we'd taken. The Lieutenant-Colonel stood behind his desk, and Bill waited off to the side.

“You gentlemen should sit as well,” he said, and they each took a seat. I didn't know who this man was, but he was clearly older than the other two, and he certainly acted as though he was in charge.

“It's past tea time, but would either of you care for a cup?” he asked.

“No, thank you,” I said.

“We were hoping for a soda,” Jack added. “Wasn't that part of the bet?”

“You'd mentioned a bet outside,” the man said. “I'm interested in pursuing that line of questioning, but first I must ask your forgiveness for my lack of manners.” He reached out,
offering his hand.

Jack reached out his hand to shake. “I'm Jack, and this is my brother, George.”

He reached out and shook my hand next.

“I'm Bill,” he said.

“There are two Bills?”

“It
is
a common name. Many people refer to me as ‘Little Bill,' if that helps.”

He certainly wasn't nearly as tall or wide as our Bill. He was wearing a suit and tie and he looked very gentle, almost friendly. His voice was soft and reassuring. He reminded me of a teacher or a minister. He had sort of a pointy nose, but what really stood out were his eyes—they were sharp and bright and penetrating.

“Now tell me about this bet,” he said.

“It's nothing really,” Bill said. “It involves Mr. Granger from over at the D.I.L. plant. He and I have this running—”

“Excuse me.” Little Bill cut him off, his voice rising slightly. “I was asking the boys. Besides, shouldn't you be going and getting them their sodas?”

“Well, I was just trying…” He stopped mid sentence as Little Bill's eyes flashed. Suddenly he didn't seem like a teacher or minister. He looked angry and intense and I felt frightened, even though he wasn't looking at me.

“I'll go right now, sir,” Bill said, and then he spun on his heels briskly and left the room.

Bill had called him “sir,” so whoever he was he outranked him, even though he wasn't wearing a uniform.

“Now what does this bet have to do with the D.I.L. plant?” Once again his voice was quiet and calm and his eyes were friendly.

“Bill asked us to deliver a fake bomb to the plant.”

“Interesting. And when was this request made?”

“Today. We did it today,” Jack said.

“And can I assume you were successful?”

“It was easy!” I told him. “We just walked in the front gate and asked if we could deliver a lunch to our mother.”

“She works there,” Jack added.

“And then Mr. Granger and Bill were talking, and they agreed to double the bet if we could break in here and deliver these to Bill,” I said, offering him the box, which I was still holding.

He took it from my hands and carefully removed the lid.

“Soggy cigars?”

“They didn't start out soggy. My inner tube ripped open when we came over the waterfall,” Jack explained.

“A waterfall?”

“We didn't even know it was there until we went over it!” I exclaimed.

“I certainly hope it wasn't too big a waterfall,” he said, kindly.

“Bigger than I would have liked,” I said, and he chuckled softly in response.

“And how exactly did you come to navigate over a waterfall of any size?”

“We were trying to sneak into the camp from Corbett's Creek. That's how we've done it before,” Jack explained.

Little Bill now turned to the Lieutenant-Colonel. “They've come onto the base before?”

“Three times,” he answered hesitantly. “But we did manage to capture them twice.”

“I suppose I should be impressed by that percentage,” Little Bill said, but he didn't sound impressed.

“That's partly where I got the idea for tricking those two men in the jeep,” I explained. “I recognized them from before, and I knew that they knew us.”

“So we just called them over,” Jack continued. He turned to me. “My brother just called them over.”

“It was sort of like how we brought the bag of clay into the plant. We just acted like we belonged and the guards thought we did.”

Little Bill didn't say anything. He was holding one of the cigars in his hands and rolling it back and forth, deep in thought.

“These would certainly provide a very clever way to transport plastique,” he said to the Lieutenant-Colonel. “I wonder how much explosive could be placed in the middle of a cigar, hidden by tobacco.”

“Probably enough to blow up a car,” Jack offered.

He turned back to us. “I suppose I shouldn't be too surprised that you two know about plastique. They haven't actually allowed you to blow anything up, have they?”

“No,” I said. “Do you think we could?”

He smiled. “I don't think that would be a wise option.”

“We have seen how it's supposed to work, though,” Jack went on.

Again Little Bill turned to the Lieutenant-Colonel.