They should be OK as long as their attackers didn’t bring up any heavy weapons, at least until nightfall. The fight could get a lot more challenging then.
This was the best they could do. The question was, Would it be enough?
He noticed Bauer watching him. There was no smirk or amused look on his face. Instead, he appeared deadly serious, every inch the experienced combat officer that he was.
The German officer held up his hands, which were still bound.
“Cut me loose,” he said in a tone that rankled Cole, because it sounded very much like an order.
“Not a chance,” Cole replied.
“The men out there are here because of me,” he said quietly. “You must at least allow me a chance to defend myself — unless you prefer to rely on the two ladies and a
Vaccaro had overheard and offered his two cents’ worth. “He’s got a point, hillbilly. We can at least give him Rupert’s revolver.”
Cole thought it over. After a moment’s hesitation, he drew his big bowie knife, stepped closer to Bauer, and cut him free.
The German shook out his hands to restore circulation. The cords had left red, painful-looking indentations on his wrists.
“Don’t make me regret this,” Cole said, the look on his face and the knife in his hand making it clear how things would go if Bauer caused any trouble. Slowly, he sheathed the knife. “Lieutenant Rupert, give Herr Barnstormer your sidearm.”
Bauer took the weapon and expertly flipped the cylinder open to make sure that it was loaded. He also accepted a handful of spare bullets from the lieutenant. It was a six-shot .38-caliber Webley revolver. The revolver would be useful only at close range, but they didn’t have a lot of weapons to go around.
“Thank you,” Bauer said.
“I’ve only got one rule for you,” Cole replied. “You can’t shoot any Americans. You can only shoot Germans. Otherwise, this might be kind of hard to explain later.”
“You mean that I can only shoot Messner and his men?” Bauer offered a cold smile. “It will be my pleasure.”
“What can you tell me about this Messner and the men with him? Do we need to be worried about them?”
“They are competent soldiers,” Bauer said. “I am only guessing this, but it is likely that he has Obergefreiter Dietzel and Gettinger with him. These are men who have some personal loyalty to him. Perhaps they are inspired by him. He shows them some favoritism in return. Gettinger has no special talents other than obedience, but Dietzel is a Jaeger — the equivalent of what you might call a scout-sniper.”
“Yeah, I reckon he’s the son of a bitch who took a shot at me,” Cole said.
“Lucky for us, he missed.”
Cole snorted. He couldn’t tell if Bauer meant that. “One more thing. You stick with me. Where I go, you go.”
As it turned out, they had made their arrangements just in time. From the window, Lieutenant Rupert shouted, “Here they come!”
Cole turned and raced upstairs, taking the steps two at a time. Vaccaro followed and so did Bauer. He could hear both men pounding up the steps behind him.
Cole couldn’t help thinking,
It had gone against Cole’s better judgment to cut Bauer free and let him have the revolver, but in this situation he was willing to take a chance. They needed every fighter they could get.
The German machine gun opened up, once again hammering the walls and windows. A flurry of bullets stitched across the front door like an insane woodpecker, sending wood chips flying.
But the machine gun was only a distraction. The Germans that Rupert had seen were trying to take advantage of the hail of fire to get closer to the château. They came at the house from the left, one man running forward as the other covered him, then repeating the process for the other man.
The problem was that they had to cross the open ground, both making clear targets against the snow.
Cole went to an upstairs window where the glass had already been blown out by the machine-gun fire, the shards poking from the frame like jagged teeth. The German crouched beside him.
Cole put his rifle through the window and took aim. Through the scope, both Germans sprang closer. They were out in the open with nowhere to hide. With luck he would be able to shoot both men.
Then came another burst from the machine gun. The gunner must have spotted Cole in the window because several rounds came through and struck the wall behind them, ricocheting down the hall with an unnatural whine that made his spine crawl.
It wasn’t an unreasonable reaction to being targeted by the machine gun. Cole found himself doing the same.
The gunner knew his business, firing in short, measured bursts. Finally, the firing stopped long enough that Cole dared to poke his head back up. The two Germans were out of sight, having managed to cross the open ground.
Now it was his turn to mutter
