The captain, who’d been silent for most of the journey through the city’s streets, turned and addressed the lieutenant. ‘Am I right in thinking that every street leading out of the city has a road block so that papers can be checked?’

Lieutenant Warren didn’t reply, for he was focussed on something ahead of him. He leant forward and tapped the driver on the shoulder. ‘Stop outside the Bar de L’Etoile; it’s about one hundred metres up there on the right, by the red neon light.’

Captain Bristow was confused. ‘I’m not sure we have time to stop at a cafe, Simon.’

‘To answer your question, James, yes there will almost certainly be roadblocks, but I’ve a plan.’

The driver slowed and pulled over to the right. ‘This bar here, sir?’

‘This will do nicely. Keep the engine running. Lucas, keep your head well down, as we don’t want you to be spotted, so move over to the left, well away from the pavement side. Shortly we will have some company.’

‘Who?’ I asked.

‘The highest-ranking Nazi officer I can find.’

‘What the hell are you up to, Simon?’ asked the captain.

 ‘We’re going to find ourselves a hostage, James,’ he replied gleefully.

‘Are you out of your mind? Are you seriously suggesting we snatch a senior Nazi officer off the street?’

‘That’s exactly what I’m planning to do and he’ll be our passport through any roadblocks on our journey to Champs de Pavot.’

‘What if he gives us away?’

‘With a pistol discreetly pointed at the back of his head, he won’t take that chance. He’ll be in the front and I will be sitting immediately behind him.’

Captain Bristow considered the wisdom of Lieutenant Simon Warren’s plan. ‘No doubt they taught you such things at spy school in Scotland, eh?’

‘They taught us many things at the Special Operations Executive,’ he replied, ‘and one of these was to think quickly and act decisively. If we’re to have any chance of reaching the relative safety of Champs de Pavot we have no alternative. The lieutenant patted the driver on the back. Freddie here, and I, will take care of everything.’

Freddie nodded, for he too had been trained to the highest standards.

‘Do Nazis go into cafes?’ I asked.

‘All the time, Lucas,’ replied the lieutenant, ‘alcohol is a huge temptation, in addition to which there are superb bands and lots of other attractions for them. Many of the bar owners are very generous to the Nazis to keep them sweet.’

‘What do you mean?’ I asked.

‘If you keep these sons of the devil on your side then your bar will be able to continue its business without too many problems and....’ He broke off. A German officer stepped from a military staff car in front of us and walked with a slow, confident gait towards the bar. The vehicle, having dropped him off, departed; he was alone. His peaked helmet, long black boots and black leather gloves immediately identified him as an officer of high rank. The lieutenant took hold of the door handle ready to exit our vehicle and whispered some instructions to our driver. ‘Okay, let’s take him, Freddie, you know what to do. It’s the oldest trick in the book.’

Freddie stepped from the car and walked briskly towards the officer, who stopped and looked at the Frenchman quizzically. The two men stared at each other.

‘Do I know you?’ the German officer asked, with a hint of suspicion.

The lieutenant drew his pistol, opened the front passenger door and inched to the rear of the vehicle, keeping his head low, where he remained ready to strike like a snake.

We could hear Freddie telling the officer that there was a beautiful young French woman in the car who would like to speak to him because she was sure they knew one another.

‘She says she knows me?’ asked the officer.

‘That’s what she says, sir.’

‘What’s her name?’

‘Maria.’

‘And who are you?’

‘Her driver, sir.’

‘How does she know I would be here this evening?’

‘She met you here, sir.’

‘Met me here?’

‘Yes.’

‘I don’t recall meeting a woman of that name, so there must be some mistake, now if you don’t mind, I have a meeting to attend in there.’ He pointed at the bar.

Freddie had to think fast. ‘She says she has something to return to you; something of great importance.’

The officer stopped, looked first at Freddie and then at our car. ‘Something of importance? Very well, but I hope for her sake she’s not wasting my time.’

The officer sauntered across the pavement to the car, the engine still running. There were few people around when the lieutenant moved forward and pushed the pistol into the back of the Nazi officer’s neck, whilst removing the officer’s own pistol from its leather holster, with great sleight of hand.

‘Don’t turn around; keep very quiet and if you do what you’re told you will not come to any harm; you have my word. If you fail to respond to our requests you will be shot, do you understand?’

The officer remained quite still. ‘The Resistance eh? You are making a most terrible mistake, gentlemen,’ he said softly. ‘If you harm me in any way you and your families will pay a heavy price. I am a German officer of some considerable importance.’

‘Excellent news,’ responded the lieutenant, ‘just what we were hoping for.’

The lieutenant ushered the hostage into the front passenger seat beside Freddie, before closing the door and taking his place next to me and the captain in the back, from where he repeatedly poked the back of the officer’s neck with the barrel of his pistol.

‘Can you please stop doing that?’ asked the officer politely, ‘it is most irritating. I understand what you said to me and I have warned you what will happen if I come to any harm.’

‘What’s your name?’ demanded the lieutenant.

‘My name is Rudolf Fischer, I am a kommandant assigned to work in the office of Kommandant Kristian Schultz.’

‘Listen very carefully,’ said the lieutenant.

Fischer slowly turned his head and the captain was quick to shield my face with his hand. ‘Don’t look at us!’ commanded the lieutenant. ‘Keep looking straight ahead of you at all times, do you understand?’

‘Yes, I understand, now what is it you want?’

For the first time, Fischer was noticeably shaken.

Lieutenant Simon Warren lost no time in laying out his plan. ‘We have an urgent delivery to make in a village about fifty kilometres from the capital but we fear our progress may be hampered by roadblocks, tiresome inspections and questions. It’s your job to get us through these checks without delays.’

‘You want me to—how do you English say it—pull rank, yes?’

‘Exactly, but I have to warn you that if you betray us you will be shot: that, I promise you. We have nothing to lose but our own lives and that risk, regrettably, goes with the job.’

‘You misguided souls in the so-called Resistance have no idea the trouble you’re getting yourselves into. I doubt you have the guts to shoot a rabbit, let alone a senior officer.’

The lieutenant placed his hand in his tunic pocket and retrieved his official identity card, taking great care to cover his name. It was headed: Special Operations Executive.

‘Look at it, kommandant, it’ll give you a good idea of my level of skill and the organisation I represent. They do not train us to kill rabbits because we’re not at war with rabbits! We do, however, assassinate rats; vermin of the human kind.’

The officer’s face grew solemn. ‘I understand.’

‘Now, kommandant, do you still think I lack the guts to kill you if you make an unwise move?’ asked the lieutenant.

Fischer didn’t answer the question, preferring to move the conversation on. ‘When you arrive at your destination, gentlemen, what will become of me?’ he asked.

‘You will be driven back to Paris by us and released.’

So, what is it that you are delivering to that village, may I ask?’

The lieutenant turned to me and smiled. ‘A most valuable cargo.’

‘Treasure?’ suggested Fischer.

‘Yes, and to some, even more valuable than treasure.’

            The first road block appeared on the main road leading to the town of Reims in the east. It was manned by two guards. Simon Warren reminded the kommandant of the price he’d pay for betraying us, emphasising his point by gently stabbing him in the back of the neck again with the barrel of his pistol.

‘Remember, if you want to see your friends and family this evening, you will co-operate. Don’t get involved in lengthy conversations with these soldiers.’