The rumble of an engine as what sounded like a truck approaching drowned out the voices. Very slowly, Fitz edged her way along the inside of the shed towards the front, where there was a small crack between two planks of wood. All the time, she eyed the dog, who fortunately didn’t seem the slightest bit interested in her as it guarded the entrance to its territory.
The noise of the truck was louder now and as Fitz reached the gap in the wood, the vehicle pulled into the courtyard, the headlight beams sweeping across the building as it did so. She pushed herself back into the corner until the light passed over the shed.
Doors opened and slammed and the sound of more booted feet. Fitz watched from the crack as several soldiers jogged around to the front of the vehicle. She couldn’t see clearly but another soldier had climbed out from the cab of the truck. As he came to stand in front of the headlights, she could see he was a captain. The circle of soldiers in the courtyard parted and Fitz saw André, the old woman, and the two French resistance members all kneeling on the cobbles with their hands behind their heads.
She watched as the German officer inspected the papers, as one of the soldiers shone his torch onto the forged documents. The officer shoved them into the hand of the soldier and walked over to the group kneeling on the ground.
‘Where is she?Où est-elle?’he asked. Fitz was unsurprised to hear him speaking French. Many of the German officers would have been taught French at school as their foreign language, often alongside English.
Fitz’s breath hitched in her chest.
There was silence from the group of four.
The officer prowled around them like a wolf stalking its prey. He stopped behind the old woman and leant down so his mouth was near her ear. Fitz couldn’t hear what he was saying, but guessed he was repeating his question.
The old woman shook her head.
The officer straightened up and removed his pistol from the holster and walked along the line, past André, past the Frenchman who had appeared to be in charge, before coming to a stop behind the other resistance member.
‘I will ask again,’ said the officer, his voice loud. ‘Where is the other woman?’
Fitz swallowed hard. They must have been betrayed. How would the officer know someone was missing and it was a woman otherwise?
Without warning a single shot rang out, making Fitz jump in fright. Her eyes felt like they were popping out of her head as she saw the Frenchman fall face-first onto the cobbles. Blood pooled out across the ground, seeping between the stones like water in a gutter.
She clamped her hand over her mouth once again but then immediately took her hand away, fearful that it would amplify her heavy breathing as she fought to remain calm. She closed her eyes for a moment and forced herself to steady her breathing. She needed to stay in control.
‘I will ask once again,’ the German’s voice rang out. ‘Where is the other woman?’
Fitz opened her eyes and looked through the crack. The officer was pacing back and forth behind the remaining three. He stopped behind the woman, cocked his gun and held it to the back of her head.
‘I know you’re here!’ he shouted out. ‘Come out now and the woman will be spared.’
Fitz watched him look all around the courtyard, his eyes sweeping the buildings, coming to rest on the shed. She was sure he was staring right at her. She daren’t move. He couldn’t possibly see her, but he might notice a change in the shadows. For several horrifying seconds she stared straight into the eyes of the German officer.
Finally, his gaze moved on. Fitz could barely breathe. She felt lightheaded and her legs weak. But somehow she remained standing.
‘If you don’t come out in five seconds then the blood of this woman will be on your hands,’ announced the officer. Fitz was certain he didn’t know she was in the shed or that she was even there. She didn’t doubt that he meant what he threatened, though, whether she was there or not. If she stepped out, theywould all be killed. If not immediately, then later, once they had been interrogated and tortured. But would he let the old woman go? She doubted it. And although she knew she wasn’t responsible for the woman’s death, it still felt like it.
‘One. Two. Three,’ the officer began counting. ‘Four. Five.’ Fitz remained where she was. ‘Very well.’
Another single shot rang out and the old woman slumped to the ground.
Fitz blinked hard. What would happen now? Would he execute André and the other man? And when she still didn’t come out, what then?
The dog gave a low rumbling growl and backed into the shed. Fitz remained perfectly still. She didn’t want the dog to suddenly remember she was there and then attack her.
She flicked her gaze back to the courtyard. The two Frenchmen were being dragged to their feet by several soldiers. She watched as they were shoved towards the truck. Fitz could hear orders being issued but couldn’t work out what was being said. She guessed they were being put in the back of the truck to be taken away for interrogation.
‘This is your last chance to come out,’ called the German officer. ‘I have been very patient but now it is at an end. It is your choice.’
Fitz didn’t move.
The officer issued some more orders and several soldiers hurried out of sight, returning shortly carrying petrol cans. Fitz watched as they began to douse the farmhouse doors and windows with the liquid. They worked their way around the courtyard. Soon they would be at the shed.
She had no choice but to back away from the spy hole otherwise she’d be smothered in petrol, too. The dog gave a growl butdidn’t move. Fitz backed away some more. And then some more, until she had reached the rear of the shed.
It was dark in the shadows and she couldn’t make anything out. With her back to the wall, she felt with her hands and one step at a time, moved along, trying to feel for any way out of what was about to become an inferno.
