Look Behind You (The Order of the Silver Star) Read Online Free PDF Page B

Nazis.”
    That last remark made Chris wince. The Schneiders had lived near Castell since its founding in 1847, but he and Matt had still gotten flak from Anglos in school during the last war because they were German and spoke the language at home. Nimrod was right; he didn’t want to risk another generation facing the same discrimination. “Okay. What do you need me to do?”
    Nimrod handed him a roll of microfilm wrapped in a five-Mark note. “Get this to an agent at the lighthouse in Dunkirk; his codename’s Cuchulain. He’s got contacts who can analyze it. And tell London we may need Hamer after all.”
    “Cuchulain, got it. Recognition code?”
    “‘The mighty hunter seeks his hound.’”
    “And when does it all launch?”
    “As soon as possible. Which probably means June for the invasion, possibly a month or two before that for the spells.”
    Chris nodded once. “I’m on it.”
    And he steadfastly ignored the way his hand prickled around the microfilm he was clutching as he went back to his car.
     
    *****
     
    Two weeks passed before Chris could get leave to go to Dunkirk. He kept the microfilm on him during that time, fearing that any hiding place might prove insecure. And the frequency with which the SS searched his quarters did increase, so the plan turned out to be smart. He didn’t touch the film if he could help it, though. Nimrod hadn’t warned him about that, but somehow he just knew that the less skin contact he made with the film, the better. As it was, his palm itched constantly from where he’d held it, and no matter where he stashed the film, it felt like it was trying to burn through his clothes and into his skin.
    This notion of dark magic being real was starting to sound a lot less far-fetched.
    But he didn’t give in to the urge to throw the film away or leave it someplace unguarded, and he didn’t give in to the urge to open the film and find out what the hell was on it. He had one job: delivering the film to Cuchulain. Until that job was done, he would grit his teeth and keep it safe and unread.
    The wait was sheer torture, however, and it was all he could do not to cry in relief when his weekend pass was finally approved. Then he had to fight the urge to speed from Paris to Dunkirk; the drive only took three hours, and his desire to run far, far away from this damned microfilm couldn’t take precedence over his need not to attract attention. But he made it in good time and in one piece, and he was cautious in getting from his hotel to the lighthouse. Once there, he used a coded knock to announce his arrival.
    The door opened a crack. “Yes?” prompted a male voice.
    “The mighty hunter seeks his hound,” Chris replied quietly in English.
    The door opened further, revealing a burly, red-haired, freckle-faced Irishman who was about the same height as Chris. “And you are?”
    “Hercules. You Cuchulain?”
    “That I am.” Cuchulain’s emerald eyes looked out past Chris to check for a tail before he stepped aside to let Chris enter the lighthouse and closed the door behind him. “Care for a spot o’ tea, or something stronger?”
    Chris drew a deep breath and managed a smile. “Uh, no, thanks. Unless your ‘something stronger’ is from Shiner—I’ve been dyin’ for a good Texas beer.”
    Cuchulain laughed. “No, sorry, I’ve no taste for aught but Guinness.”
    “Well, then, I’ll pass. Guinness is good, though. Tried it in London.”
    “Ah. Well, now, what can I do for ye?”
    “Nimrod told me to get this to you.” Chris fished the microfilm out of its latest hiding place. “The High Command is starting to make plans to attack the Soviet Union, but Hitler doesn’t want to leave France undefended. So sometime between now and June, we think, the SS is planning to set up some kind of system of defensive enchantments to prevent any possible invasion.”
    Cuchulain held out one gloved hand, and Chris placed the microfilm in it. A wave of relief swept over