Bolero Villa, just over the hill, had caused every post in the vicinity to be blacked out.
“We are under the window of the room,” Arno said in a low voice.
“There’s a guard down the wall a ways,” Allison said. “I’ll give you fellows a calling-down in German to make the guard think I’m really on the warpath, then we’ll march right in.”
“Perhaps I had better try the window while you are trying the door,” Tony said. “You might have trouble. There will be plenty of light inside.”
Allison raised his voice and began berating the boys in German. “
Instantly they heard the guard moving toward the back door.
“Now’s our chance,” Allison whispered. “I said we could see light from the back hallway. We’ll make them douse the lights.”
They headed toward the back door and stomped up the wide steps. The guard opened the door and they saw that the hallway was dark. Allison roared at the fellow and he came to a stiff salute, presenting arms.
“General Bolero,” Allison snapped. “We would speak to him.”
The boys did not understand, but they caught the general’s name and had an idea. The guard protested but Allison thrust several papers at him. He had taken the papers from the officer’s pocket but had no idea what they were. When the man started to use a pocket flashlight to read the papers, Allison smashed the light out of his hand, roaring at him about the blackout.
The soldier was thoroughly cowed. He turned and started down the hallway with the boys close behind him. Tony had found the window barred on the outside and had joined the others. He nudged Stan as they halted before a door. It was the very room Arno had said his father would be kept in.
The guard unlocked the door. As it opened, a flood of light shone over the men. The general’s window had been boarded up, so he was allowed a light. He was sitting at a little table writing. Stan did not wait to see any more. He knew the guard was wise the moment he saw the raiders in the bright light. Their shoes and trousers gave them away as well as their faces. Stan had moved along very close to the guard. His arm went out in a perfect commando attack and before the guard had time to shout he was silenced and heaved into the room.
In an instant Tony was across the room and in his father’s arms. Arno stood beside them gripping one of the general’s arms. The general looked over Tony’s shoulder at Stan and Allison.
“I am honored,” he said.
“Turn out the light,” Stan ordered.
The general shoved Tony aside and switched off the light. “You have taken greater chances than you should. I am hardly worth the effort.”
When he had ceased speaking they listened. Several men were moving down the hall, talking in angry voices.
“That is the commandant of this post. I know his voice. He has with him a number of his officers,” the general said in a low voice.
“They’ll wonder where the other guard is,” Stan said. “We better jerk the boards off that window and get out of here.”
“That cannot be done,” the general said. “They are planks, not boards, and they are spiked to the outside of the house.”
Allison had opened the door a crack. “They have turned on the light. There’s five of them, and they seem excited.”
“How far down the hallway?” Stan asked.
“At the door,” Allison answered.
The voice of one of the men lifted as he shouted an order. “He’s calling in a squad of armed men from the gate,” Allison said.
“It seems we are trapped,” Arno said grimly.
“Can we go out the front way?” Stan snapped, turning to Tony.
“Yes. There is a side door and a front door. But we can’t get back to our car because of the walls around the back plaza.”
“Our tommy-guns and grenades are in the car,” Allison said.
“We’ll have to chance it and move fast. Lead off.” Stan reached for the doorknob. Opening the door a little way he looked out. The five officers were standing in the doorway down the hall looking out into the night.
Stan stepped out, whipping his Colt from its holster as he went. “Down the hall!” he hissed. “Lead them, Tony. I’ll cover your retreat.”
The raiders and the general moved out and started down the hall. They had taken only a few steps, when one of the officers at the door turned around. He let out a startled shout. The others whirled. Stan covered them with his Colt. The distance was a full thirty feet, good shooting range for the forty-five.
“Get your hands up!” Stan snapped. The bore of his gun wavered over the stomachs of the officers and came to rest on a spot between the eyes of the colonel.
Amazement showed on the faces of the Germans, then hatred and fury.
“Fools!” the colonel grated. “You will all be shot as soon as the alarm is sounded.”
Stan was moving backward. He grinned at the colonel and made a good bluff. His free hand slid into the pocket of his coat. “Perhaps,” he said loudly. “But I have a grenade here, an American-made grenade. You know how much damage they do. I’m going to toss it right where you are standing just as soon as I get to the corner.”
He knew at once that he had scored a hit. The Germans knew that tossing a grenade in just that manner was the way Rangers and Commandos worked. Three of the men, those in the doorway, dived out into the night where they began shouting. The colonel and one other officer edged toward the door. Stan reached the corner and made a motion to jerk his hand out of his pocket. The two Germans dived for the door.
“Whirling, Stan raced down the hall. He was passing a door when a hand reached out and jerked him into a dark room or hall, he could not tell which. Allison’s voice hissed:
“Inside, we’re going up on the roof.” Stan heard the door slam and all was dark. “Tony knows how to go through a French window in this room out to a trellis. We climb the vines.”
“But the general, he’s pretty heavy,” Stan said.
“The boys are boosting him up right now.” Allison was dragging Stan across the room.
They went through the window and saw the stars above. Dark shapes loomed against the wall of the house where vines climbed up to the eaves. Stan and Allison started up the trellis. They could hear General Bolero puffing and grunting as Tony and Arno helped him climb upward.
Stan looked down and saw the top of the garden wall. “I’m going down after some grenades and a submachine gun,” he hissed. Before Allison could stop him he had swung over the wall and was dangling in space. The vines ended at the wall and Stan could not see what was below. He took a chance and cut loose.
Stan was lucky. He landed on top of a canvas-covered van. The padding dulled the thud of his landing. He sat up and listened. The yard below was filled with shouting and yelling. Boots pounded as men ran across the hard ground. Doors slammed and someone fired a pistol. Stan whistled but got no answer. Then he spotted his gang. They were crouching on the roof above. Stan whistled louder and saw a shape detach itself and slide down toward the edge of the roof. He was sure it was Allison. When the dark shape loomed directly above him he called up cautiously.
“There’s a canvas-covered van right here. Get the men and have them drop off on top of it.”
“Pretty far down, isn’t it, old man?” Allison called back.
“Not too far,” Stan answered. “We’ll get to our car and blast our way out of here.”
Allison moved back up the roof. In a minute he was back with the general and his sons.
“General Bolero coming down first,” Allison called softly.
Stan moved back but got ready to help the general. A bulky form swung down from the roof, then fell, landing with a thud beside Stan. Stan helped the general to a sitting position.
“Are you hurt?”
“Only slightly jarred,” the general assured him.
