Page 38 of The Paris Agent
She turned the page of the newspaper and then said softly, “You’re with the SOE?”
“I’m here at Basile’s request,” I said, deciding quickly it was best not to confirm her suspicion. “What can you tell me about the circuit?”
“Basile had maybe a hundred or more men and women organized in Rouen alone. We were meeting in small groups. Mine was undertaking training for sabotage. My group had about a dozen members and our leader was...” Her voice grew rough. She paused, cleared it, then finished in a whisper, “He was my friend. His name was Thierry. About a week after Basile left, the Gestapo came to arrest Thierry and the stubborn fool pulled a handgun, and...” She broke off, overcome with emotion.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“For a long time the rest of my group seemed to have escaped German attention but a few weeks ago the arrests began and this time, they snowballed. Every night, more arrests. When they came for Claude a few nights ago, I was only surprised they didn’t take me too. But listen to me, if you’re here for London, you need to tell them what’s been happening.”
“The arrests?”
“They’ve started constructing concrete runways all along the coast, perhaps ten meters long, beginning underground in a cavity, and sloping up from there. I know for certain that there are some just north of here, but I’ve heard rumors they extend every ten kilometers from here all the way to Cherbourg!”
I pictured a map in my mind and felt an icy chill run down my spine. Elwood warned me there were rumors of German rockets that would reach Britain from the continent. That curve from Rouen to Cherbourg ran roughly parallel to the English coastline.
“Claude spoke to a lorry driver who was bringing deliveries of sand for the construction,” Nathalie continued. “He had been throwing iron filings into the sand, hoping that whatever these weapons are, they use some kind of magnetic orientation and the metal will throw them off. I know Thierry was planning to launch sabotage attacks against the bases and the runways, but with him gone and the circuit in disarray—everything has stalled.”
“Who else do you know who has escaped arrest?”
“There are just a few of us...”
“Nathalie, you all must go into hiding immediately,” I whispered urgently. “If they’ve detained most of your group, it’s only a matter of time before someone exposes the rest of you.”
“I have nowhere to go,” she said miserably. “I have no family to hide me and no money. Most of our friends were involved with the circuit. I’m a sitting duck.”
With just a handful of operatives and only two weeks left in Rouen, sabotaging those platforms was out of the question...but with the help of Nathalie and her friends, perhaps I could at least confirm their existence, and take details of the infrastructure back to London with me.
“I can help you hide, Nathalie,” I said, thinking of the money hidden in the bottom of my bag. “But I’m going to need your help in return.”
C?H?A?P?T?E?R13
CHARLOTTE
Collingham, England
1970
“You don’t have to come with us, you know,” I tell Theo the next morning when I find him waiting for us on the footpath outside of his flat in Manchester. It’s a busy street and we couldn’t find a place to park out front of Theo’s flats so Dad’s waiting in the car half a block away. I volunteered to fetch Theo to bring him to the car, in part because I wanted to talk to him privately.
“I’ve come this far,” he says wryly. “I figured I should see this through to the final act. How’s Noah?”
“Not good,” I admit. Theo motions for me to turn around to return to the car, but I shake my head. “He’s barely said a word since we left the professor’s office yesterday. I told him about this meeting this morning as soon as he woke up and he agreed to come but he’s so anxious, Theo. It’s awful.”
“It is perfectly understandable though,” Theo says gently. I’m suddenly struck by two things—his ease with this awkward, uncomfortable situation, and the kindness in his eyes. I’m so grateful to have met him right when we need this kind of support the most. “The war is a period in his life he’s rarely revisited over the years and now he’s trying to face it head-on. That can’t be easy.”
“I know,” I say. “But you should know that in the last ten minutes he’s decided he doesn’t want us to come in when he speaks to Jean.”
Remy’s name, it turns out, is Jean Allaire. He lives a few hours’ drive away in Collingham, Leeds. We were almost at Theo’s flat before Dad changed his mind about us joining him for the meeting and he’s far too stressed for me to argue the point. He agreed that Theo could join us for the drive if he wants to, and I’m really hoping that’s what he decides to do.
“Oh no,” Theo says, wincing. He glances back toward his flat. “Well, that’s his prerogative, of course.”
“But you’re welcome to come for a drive if you didn’t have plans...” I add hastily. Dad’s behavior this morning is not at all what I expected when Remy agreed to meet with him. Theo has obviously had some experience dealing with men and women who served and the difficulties of speaking about their experiences. I’d be relieved to have skilled backup to support Dad if the meeting doesn’t go well.
“No plans to speak of,” Theo says, then, “I’ll still come along. Moral support and all that. If you don’t mind...?”
“I’d appreciate that,” I say, relieved. “He really doesn’t seem himself today.”
“He may well feel better after he sees Jean.”
