Day of Vengeance by Johnny O'Brien Page B

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    He mustered his remaining strength and shouted at the top of his voice, “Anglais! Je ne comprends pas! ”
    For a moment there was quiet and then Jack heard a lively exchange somewhere above him. Then he heard another voice speak in good English with a strong French accent.
    “OK my friend. We are going to save you. We will throw you a rope. You need to put the loop around you. Try and be quick.”
    Jack bellowed back, “There are two of us – I think my friend is badly injured…”
    Again, Jack heard talking, and then the voice came again. “Stay calm my friend. We are coming!”
    Jack whispered into Angus’s ear – which was only a coupleof centimetres from his mouth, “Don’t worry, Angus, we’re going to get out of this…”
    But Jack was not really so sure.
    Then, just above him, Jack heard the voice again, suddenly much closer. “Salut – mon ami…”
    Jack craned his head to try and see past Angus’s slumped body. Just above him the face of a black man appeared, looking down through the mangled cockpit. He seemed to be floating in midair , somehow suspended from above. The man looked quite young, fit and entirely unconcerned that the ground beneath them was nowhere to be seen.
    “I am Jean-Yves, and how do you say it in English? Delighted to meet you, old chap.” He smiled. Something about the smile exuded confidence and it was infectious. Jack sensed hope.
    “Thank God you’re here. My friend, I think he is badly hurt, but he’s breathing. Where are we?”
    Jean-Yves shifted his eyes to Angus and Jack, a flash of anxiety in his face, but then he shook his head. “Your friend has cuts and bruises – a lot of blood. But he will be fine. Now take this rope…”
    Jean-Yves worked the ropes quickly, moving with the speed and precision of a professional climber. He talked quietly to Jack as he worked, all the time speaking clearly, calmly. He could have been talking about the weather.
    “You are very lucky to survive… what happened?”
    “Er, we flew into cloud and lost our way…” Jack asked the question again. “Where are we?”
    But it was as if Jean-Yves were deliberately ignoring the question. “ Incroyable . Are you Royal Air Force… this is a Spitfire, no?”
    “Was a Spitfire. Yes, RAF, we were in a fight over the Channel.”
    “But why are there two of you? This is a single-seater? And you, my friend, you look very young…”
    Jack didn’t have the energy to explain.
    At last, Jean-Yves managed to secure one rope beneath Angus’s arms and around his torso and a second around Jack. The plan was somehow to ease them free from the cockpit and lift them up to safety. Jean-Yves gave a slight exhalation in preparation.
    “There… now we lift you up… OK?”
    Jack tried a third time, “Where are we?”
    Jean-Yves gave a half-smile. When he gave his answer Jack suddenly understood why he had ignored Jack’s question until they were secured by the ropes.
    “Le Tour,” Jean-Yves said.
    “What?”
    “ Mon ami , you are two hundred metres up in the air, hanging off le Tour Eiffel .” Jack detected a note of admiration in Jean-Yves’s voice. For a second Jack did not quite get the rapid French pronunciation. Then it clicked into place. The Eiffel Tower. They had crashed into the Eiffel Tower – in the middle of Paris.
    “Ready?” Jean-Yves asked.
    Angus groaned as the rope tightened and he was pulled free from the wreckage. Jean-Yves guided his body as it was hauled upwards by his friends waiting above. Soon Jack could only see Angus’s feet dangling above him.
    “Now your turn, my friend. Focus on me. Don’t look down.”
    Jack took a deep breath and felt the rope close like a vice around his chest.
    “Use your hands to hold on to the rope.”
    Slowly, Jack felt himself being levered from the cockpit and hauled up into the air. His body spun slowly on the rope as he was inched upwards. He couldn’t help looking down. As soon as he did, he felt nauseous, but he