He joined Vaccaro at the window.
“I got up to take a leak and decided to peek outside to see how the day was shaping up before I grabbed a few more winks,” Vaccaro explained. “That’s when I saw them.”
Cole looked. He spotted a group of men huddled at the edge of the forest, watching the house. It was still somewhat dark under the trees, so he retrieved his rifle to get a better look at them through the scope. He studied the soldiers, confirming what he already suspected.
Germans. A trio of them.
Something about them made it seem as if the Krauts had been out there awhile, maybe all night. They looked cold, stamping their feet, their breath making clouds in the morning air. Then he realized that the Kübelwagen was dusted in snow. He couldn’t see any tracks in the snowy ground either.
Cole and Vaccaro exchanged worried glances. “We should wake the others,” Vaccaro whispered, his fingers tightening around his rifle. “Maybe we can all still get out of here without attracting attention.”
Cole shook his head, his gaze still on the Germans. “It’s too late for that. They’re close enough that they’ll see us if we leave.”
“So what do we do?” Vaccaro demanded, his voice low as he scanned the room, as if searching for any weapons they could use against the Krauts. But they had no mortars, no machine guns, just their rifles.
“We wait and see,” Cole replied, no hint of doubt in his voice. “We’ve been lucky so far. Maybe we’ll be lucky again.”
Cole watched the Germans through the crack, reassured that they couldn’t see him. The Krauts were watching the house as if determining what to do next. Maybe they were trying to decide whether the house was occupied by friend or foe.
He was glad to see that they hadn’t approached the house yet, and with any luck it was just a small patrol passing through and they would move on. The fact that they hadn’t done so yet made him a little nervous.
“Those Krauts are gonna be disappointed if they think I’m about to invite them in for breakfast,” Cole said. “We’d best wake up the others.”
Outside the ancient house, Hauptmann Messner and the two other Germans had grown impatient. They had been up since before the bitter winter dawn, waiting for their quarry to show itself.
The plan was a simple one — to catch Bauer and his escort as soon as they left the shelter of the château. They would take them by surprise and eliminate Bauer once and for all — and his American escorts along with him.
But the gray light grew and there was still no sign of any activity.
Dietzel had already scouted around the house as soon as there was sufficient light, putting Messner’s fears to rest that their quarry had somehow given them the slip. More snow had fallen during the night, partially covering the four sets of tracks that led to the house. There were no fresh tracks in the snow, which meant that no one had fled the château.
“Why don’t they come out?”
“Maybe they have seen us.”
Messner had to admit that once again Dietzel was likely correct. When they had stopped the Kübelwagen last night, they had not realized in the dark that it was within view of the house. That had been an unfortunate oversight. On the positive side, they could easily bring the machine gun mounted on the back of the vehicle to bear on the château or front lawn, as needed.
Perhaps they had lost the element of surprise, but no matter. Bauer and his escort couldn’t hide from them forever.
“They will have to come out sooner or later,” Messner said.
“Or they could fight,” Dietzel pointed out.
Messner thought about that. “In that case, perhaps the time has come to offer them a deal — their lives for Bauer’s. I doubt that the Americans will be willing to die for their German prisoner.”
From inside the château, Cole kept watching the Germans, wondering what they were up to and what they were waiting for. He ran through a few mental scenarios, none of them promising.
The Germans were too far away to tell much about them, but they appeared to be Wehrmacht troops wearing winter-white camouflage. Their Kübelwagen carried a mounted machine gun, giving the Germans a distinct advantage in firepower. Through the scope, he was surprised to notice that one of the Germans was also studying the château through the scope on his own rifle.
So, a sniper then.
He felt a quiver of interest run through him like an electric current. He wouldn’t have admitted it out loud, but deep down, the thought of matching wits and bullets with another sniper excited him.
“What do you think?” Vaccaro asked.
“Doesn’t look good,” Cole said. “They must have spotted the smoke rising from the chimney, or maybe they saw the tracks we made in the snow, leading right to the house. They figure that somebody is in here. They just don’t know who.”
