Look Behind You (The Order of the Silver Star) (8 page)

BOOK: Look Behind You (The Order of the Silver Star)
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Matt shook his head. “No. He believes in God, but he’s skeptical about everything else.”

“Well, he was until he had to stop the SS from droppin’ a curse on London that would probably rival an atomic bomb.”

Matt paled and thanked God silently for keeping Chris safe.

Halberson wouldn’t be put off, though. “But we ain’t never needed fairy magic before! Like Bill McDonald always used to say, no man in the wrong—”

“Halberson,” Wright interrupted with a growl.

“You have a point,” Gonzaullas conceded. “But such protection can only help, especially since you won’t be going up against mere men. And it’s not as if the Rangers have never received protective relics before.”

“Like what?” Halberson challenged.

“Let’s just say that if Hitler tries to use the spear his men took from Vienna in the way legend claims one should use the Spear of Longinus, he will be sadly disappointed.”

Matt’s jaw dropped. He’d had no idea the Holy Lance had been hiding in Austin all this time.

“Think we oughta take that with us?” Hamer asked.

Gonzaullas shook his head. “No, it’s not to leave the state. Neither are any of the rare books—the journals, especially, and the Comanche texts. I think the thing to do is to study them here, maybe consult with Modesto Castro to see what the Lipan can tell you, and then arm yourselves with prayer and
vayan con Dios
.”
12

“What happened to us not usin’ magic?” Hickman groused.

“You
won’t
be. The information in those texts is purely defensive. The mission is to break enchantments, not to cast them. And it will likely take a fair amount of our usual investigative skill to know which counter-spell to use in any given situation.”

“Not like we won’t be facing humans at all, either,” Wright noted. “Even if all the combat troops are out of the way, it stands to reason the Krauts won’t pull all the occupation forces out.”

Hamer nodded. “That’s what British Intelligence thinks. There’ll still be Luftwaffe troops there, plus the SS. And we’re only the first wave. The Brits plan to send in regular troops behind us, in the hope that we’ll get folks stirred up enough to work with the Allies, not against ’em.”

“Wait,” said Martinez, one of Matt’s former colleagues from Marfa. “How the hell are we supposed to keep the Germans from finding out what we’re up to? I mean, we’ve got some pretty famous names in this room. If we all turn up in England….”

“Well, to be honest, they think we’re already there. But the Army’s got a diversion cooking—George Patton’s idea, actually, although I think the Lady of the Lake might have been in on it, too.”

“What kind of diversion?”

Hamer laughed. “Y’all ain’t gonna believe this one….”

 

#####

12
Go with God.

#####

 

~~~~~

 

Chapter
4

Uncloaked

 

May 5, 1941

 

Goering had temporarily reassigned Chris to Berlin for most of April to help coordinate intelligence for the campaign in Greece and Yugoslavia, which had suited Chris just fine. Cuchulain and Cleopatra could handle gathering intelligence on the SS warlocks well enough without him, and the move had gotten him out of the Paris Gestapo’s crosshairs for the short term. Plus, while he hadn’t been able to do a whole lot about Operation Marita, being in Berlin had given him the opportunity to gather more information about the “Arizona State game,” which had taken a sudden, highly surprising turn at Tobruk. Even now, as Chris finished his assignment in Berlin and prepared to head back to Paris, no one was quite sure what had happened the week after Easter. All that was clear was that the Australians had received surprise reinforcements from somewhere and had chased the Germans and the Italians out of North Africa in no time flat. The Australians had managed to take a huge number of prisoners, even with Rommel’s retreat; the entire
Afrika Korps
would have been captured had Rommel not disobeyed Hitler’s orders and withdrawn while he still could—not that Hitler cared about the loss of manpower as much as about the loss of territory, according to Nimrod. And there was some talk that the mysterious reinforcements had come from Texas.

The collapse of Operation Sonnenblume brought Rommel staggering back to Berlin, still wondering what had hit him. Chris happened to be walking down a hall within earshot of Rommel’s office just in time to spot Goering wandering into said office with clear intent to taunt. Curious, Chris found a convenient place to eavesdrop.

“What’s the matter, Rommel?” Goering jeered. “
Die Texanische Teufel
haunting you?”

“There is more than one kind of devil in Texas,” Rommel shot back. “Our honored Mexican friend didn’t warn us about this lot.”

“Comanches? Apaches?”


Aggies
.”

That surprised Goering. “Aggies?”

“Aggies. They didn’t send the Marines, the Air Corps, the pride of Annapolis or West Point—we were done in by
El Bandito
and the Texas A&M Corps of Cadets. They’re after Italy now, I think.”

“And who exactly is
El Bandito
?”

“That accursed upstart Patton. Seems he read my book.”

“But why on earth would a unit of Texas infantry be in the British XIII Corps? We’re not at war with America yet. They
elected
Roosevelt because he promised to stay out of the war.”

“I don’t know,” Rommel wearily replied. “I just don’t know. But if the Aggies are that good… perhaps what we’ve heard about
den Texanischen Teufel
is true. The Aggies may even have had a fairy flag—their numbers seemed to swell without warning when their standard was raised.”

Goering was silent for a moment. “That’s not what you’re going to tell the Führer, is it?”

“No. No, he can draw those conclusions himself.”

Frowning, Goering left, which Chris could imagine was something of a relief to Rommel. And Chris also suspected that Rommel was thinking that if he never heard a certain fanfare and the words “Hullabaloo, caneck, caneck” again, it would be too soon.
13
Stifling a chuckle, Chris went on his way and wondered idly whether there might be someplace on the way to the airport where he could get some tacos to celebrate Cinco de Mayo. It was a bad idea, though, so he didn’t ask his driver.

He was still in a good mood when he got back to Paris and dropped his gear in his quarters. Cleopatra was supposed to meet him at Pont Royal by the Tuileries Garden, which was a couple of miles from his barracks, but the weather was so gorgeous, he decided to walk. Even the fact that he still preferred Paris, Texas, to Paris, France, was not going to get him down this day. The Allies had a major victory in hand; maybe the war wasn’t going to take long to wrap up after all.

He was relaxing at the foot of the bridge and trying to hum something other than the Aggie War Hymn when his eye was drawn to a leaf that blew off a nearby tree, drifted out across the Seine—and withered in mid-air.

It took every ounce of self-control he had not to swear loudly in English, his amusement over Aggies in North Africa forgotten. How he could tell this was an omen, he wasn’t sure, but he could and it was. The Atlantic Wall had been raised, and it came far further inland than he’d expected. The Rangers needed to get there fast before anyone got hurt.

“Hercules?” Cleopatra said beside Chris moments later, causing him to nearly jump out of his skin.

“Don’t
do
that!” he gritted out through clenched teeth.

She huffed. “You were staring at a
leaf
.”

“For good reason. Here.” He handed her the microfilms he’d brought from Berlin. “That’s from this trip. And this”—he paused to take a forged five-Mark note out of his wallet and pressed the bill into her hand—“goes to Cuchulain in Dunkirk, with the code word ‘Brazos.’ He’ll know what to do.”

“Do I tell him about the leaf, too?”

“If you do, tell him it withered.”

She blinked twice. “Are you all right, Herc?”

“I am for now,” he murmured, glancing out across the Seine again and feeling glad his quarters were on the safe side of the river.

She muttered something about battle fatigue and left.

 

#####

13
First words of the Aggie War Hymn.

#####

 

*****

 

The last seven weeks had passed in something of a blur for Matt. The days had been long, and he’d been in his room at the Driskill Hotel little beyond the time he spent sleeping. Hours of strategizing, memorization, and prayer had started to blend together to the point that he could only review his notes every night and pray that he’d recall everything when he needed it. And he wasn’t sure whether he was more anxious to get going or to get home. He’d called home every Friday without fail to check on Papa and get all the news from Mama, who was very pleased with the help she was getting from “Colleen” (as the fairy had introduced herself) and had started dropping hints about Colleen’s housekeeping skills around Easter. Matt had been embarrassed when Mama had finally let him talk to Colleen, but Colleen had been amused by the whole thing.

“Seriously, though,” Matt had asked her, “is there a way I can show my appreciation? Sounds like you really have been a big help.”

“We can talk more of that when you return,
mo chara
,” she’d purred. “For now, only make use of the gift.”

“Okay. Th—um—all right, yes, I’ll do that.” Not saying
thank you
wasn’t one of the bonds she’d placed on him with the gift of the pendant, but he’d read enough fairy tales to know that most fairies didn’t like for thanks to be expressed in words. And when she said goodbye and hung up, she’d sounded pleased that he’d caught himself.

He was trying not to worry about what she might request as his repayment during a mid-morning coffee break on May 5 when Hamer was called out of the room briefly and returned, telegram in hand, to call everyone together again. “I just got the word,” Hamer announced. “We leave for London in two hours. Go grab your gear and meet back here in an hour; we’ll eat and then head to the airport.”

“What about horses?” Halberson asked.

“They’ll have horses and tack for us in England.”

Halberson grumbled about the English riding style, but Wright herded him out of the room, and the others followed.

Matt didn’t need long to pack, so when he was done, he looked at the clock and weighed whether or not to risk a call home. He knew Mama would worry if he didn’t, but he wasn’t sure whether it was too much of a security risk. Finally, though, he decided to chance it, thought through his word choice, and called.

For some reason, but to his great relief, Colleen answered.

“Brazos,” he said without preamble, praying she’d know what he meant. Nosy neighbors weren’t as likely to understand that as they were to read between the lines of what he’d planned to tell Mama.


Good
,” she replied fiercely. “Just remember.”

“I will. I promise.”


Slán go fóill, mo chroi
.”
14
And she hung up.

It took a moment for him to get his heart to stop racing, and he wasn’t sure why.

The trip to London was uneventful, broken only by refueling layovers in New York and somewhere in Scotland. The Rangers barely got out long enough each time to stretch their legs and have some sandwiches and coffee, and most of them dozed off and on while they were in the air if they weren’t reviewing their notes or playing cards. Then, once they landed outside London at an airbase called Gatwick, they were met by an intelligence officer who went by Nimrod and who escorted the Rangers onto a couple of buses. The buses then whisked them through the city so fast Matt could barely make out anything but buildings that had been bombed and a few that hadn’t yet. When they finally reached their destination, Nimrod instructed the Rangers to leave their bags on the bus so the luggage could be taken on to the temporary quarters. Then the buses parked behind the building where the briefing was to take place, presumably so that the sea of white Stetsons, cowboy boots, and pearl- or ivory-handled Colt Model P .45s wouldn’t attract attention when the Rangers disembarked.

For an agency without a uniform, the Rangers sure
looked
uniform in a place like London.

“Where’s Hercules?” Matt heard Hamer ask Nimrod as they filed into the building.

“He’s not able to join us today, I’m afraid,” Nimrod replied. “He’s just completed an unrelated mission, and it might look suspicious for him to take leave again so soon. However, he will be among your contacts in France.”

Hamer nodded. “Good. Thanks.”

Inside, the Rangers were led upstairs to a waiting area, where they cooled their heels while a secretary went to inform the brass that they’d arrived. There were some generals there, too; Montgomery was a name Matt recognized as they introduced themselves to Hamer, but he wasn’t familiar with the others.

BOOK: Look Behind You (The Order of the Silver Star)
9.06Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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