Clandestine by J. Robert Janes Page A

that then mean that extra troops had been brought in?
    â€˜You’re heading where?’ asked the donor.
    â€˜The Banque Nationale de Crédit et Commercial. It’s address is on …’
    â€˜We can read.’
    â€˜Who told you to follow?’
    â€˜All we know is that something big is coming to town and that you and that partner of yours have been brought in on it.’
    â€˜Radio-trottoir?’
    Pavement radio. ‘Our ears are constantly tuned. Aren’t yours? Here, take the package. We’ve lots.’
    Hermann would have advised leaving things as they were, but Hermann had Oona to think of and they had, of course, to first take care of her and not let these others know where.
    â€˜Merci , I’ll continue to lead the way, shall I?’
    â€˜Of course. An entourage.’
    â€˜Excellent!’
    Stepping quickly back and in among the oncoming cyclists, he did the unforgivable and shoved the first to come along against the car. Another and another gave cries of dismay, he driving the Opinel into both of that car’s front tires, the altercation continuing with the opening of its doors as the headlamps were shattered by the butt of a Lebel 1873.
    The front tires of the lead vehicle followed and then its headlamps.
    â€˜Now I’ll deal with the vélo-taxi you missed,’ said Hermann, taking a first and welcoming drag and handing the cigarette to Oona to hold for him.
    â€˜Later, mon vieux. Later. Let’s give them a bit of distance, then you to the left, me to the right and we’ll squeeze its driver between us and find out who they’re working for.’
    It didn’t take long, and when Hermann finally found him waiting with the van in place Vendôme before the shop Enchantement, he took Oona from the Citroën to that door and, ringing its bell, got the lecture of his life from Giselle, who quickly pulled her inside and slammed the door in his face.
    Alone again, they shared a cigarette even though they still had the extras.
    â€˜Rudy de Mérode,’ said St-Cyr with evident dismay, for the so-called ‘Neuilly Gestapo’ was but one of at least ten major gangs of gestapistes français operating in and from Paris, Lyon and other cities and towns. Back in the summer and autumn of 1940, the Occupier had needed purchasing agencies as well as Frenchmen and women to watch the French. Deliberately, the Abwehr, the counterintelligence service of the German High Command, had let far too many gangsters and others out of jail and put them to work they enjoyed immensely. Given the directorships of some of those purchasing agencies, for the Reich had needed, and still did even more so now, vast quantities of nearly everything France could supply, they had done that as well as a lot of other things and continued to but with even more determination. And the unfortunate thing was that far too many of them had been put in prison by himself.
    â€˜Apparently, Hermann, word came through to those pavement listeners of a control on the RD 380 just to the east of Reims last Tuesday and Wednesday. A very determined SD colonel who wouldn’t listen to anyone but himself. Every truck, car or wagon was ripped apart, no matter the lineup, even though it was at the start of the vendage and the grapes needed pressing. Every other entrance to Paris was also placed on the same alert.’
    â€˜Which still continues, and since de Mérode and his gang have been sniffing the air, we can assume the others have. Merde , this isn’t good, Louis.’
    â€˜And they’ll all want to hear the reason first from herself before turning over what’s left of her to Kriminalrat Ludin who, with that colonel, must have been following her and that gazo and its crew since the Netherlands.’
    â€˜Just what the hell is she carrying that’s so goddamned important Kaltenbrunner would demand absolute silence? A girl who’s only in her early