The Second Objective

At least half a mile short of the station.

“Shit. Shit, shit.”

By the time Gra

“That was the signal, wasn’t it?” asked the engineer, looking wide-eyed. “I was supposed to stop, right?”

“Yeah, Ole,” said Gra

Four men were moving toward them alongside the tracks from the crossroads, flashlight beams zigzagging. Gra

“Hey, how’s it going there?” said the man leading the way.

The others behind him hung back. Two wore trench coats with raised collars, peaked hats silhouetted black against the sky. Officers.

The advance man stepped into the light of Gra

“Eddie Be

“Just last week. Me and Ole,” said Gra

“Welcome to the 724. Let me tell you something, pal: You landed in clover. You been to our billet in Paris yet?” Gra

“We heard some talk.”

“So they put you on the milk run up from Matelot, huh?” Be

“Who’s the brass?” asked Gra

“Interested parties. We look out for each other in the 724. What the Frogs call ‘es-pree de corpse.’ I’ll explain the drill-what’s your name?”

“Earl Gra

“Okay, Earl, there’s a side rail coming up on your right about a hundred yards. We’ll switch you over. Take the whole rig onto that side rail. Uncouple the stock you’re carrying after car eight then head into the station.”

“Just leave ’em?”

“Right. We’ll take it from there.”

“What if the depot asks questions, the end of our run?”

“That ain’t go

“We come in three cars light they might-”

“I’m telling you, they won’t have a problem,” said Be

Earl Gra

“Listen to you, all business all of a sudden. This ain’t go

“Everything after car eight.”

“You got it, pally,” said Be

Be

“You get all that?” asked Earl quietly.

“The PX cars,” said Ole Carlson.

“You signal the station?”

“They’re at least five minutes away.”

Jonesy climbed up into the cab behind them. Gra

“Ole,” said Gra

Carlson nodded, friendly, ready to shake hands. Jonesy stuck a toothpick in his mouth, and put a hand on his hip, showing the holstered, pearl-handled.45 on his belt. Making it clear he wasn’t there to chitchat.

“Let’s take her in,” said Gra

Ole Carlson engaged the throttle and eased the train forward at five miles an hour. They passed Corporal Be

“You want to let the station know we’re delayed?” asked Gra

Carlson had picked up the transmitter, when two more GIs walked out of the shadows near the engine car, carrying Thompson machine guns. Jonesy grabbed the handset from Carlson and hung it back up.

“Let ’em worry,” said Jonesy. “Let’s get it done.”

Gra

Like vultures, thought Gra

The first eight cars carried artillery ordnance. They’d been told exactly where the commissary cars started. By the time Gra

From what Gra

Gra

Ole sending an SOS. If they were paying attention, their backup at the station would double-time it down the tracks.

Gra

Gra

“Stay down, Jonesy,” he said.

“Fuck, what’d you hit me for?”

“You’re under arrest, you dumb shit. Put your hands in front of you and your face in the dirt or I’ll blow your head off.”

Jonesy complied. Gra