“How long is the timer?” Ken asked.
“Long enough.” Nicolas spoke as though he was imparting casual information about a timetable. He turned suddenly and frowned. “Oh, that’s why… Merde! Run!”
Ken didn’t need to be told twice. He turned and ran, Nicolas behind him. They’d barely gotten clear before an explosion behind him lifted him into the air, and he hit the ground with a loud thud. He stood and wiped mud off his clothes. “What the hell?”
“The detonator I thought hadn’t worked, decided to work after all.” Nicolas grinned as he sat up next to Ken. He ran a muddy hand through his hair, then replaced his beret. “Good thing there was something soft to cushion our fall, hmm? We should go. I’m sure that’s attracted attention.”
“I’m sure it—” Ken automatically ducked at the sound of another loud explosion further down the track. Michel had detonated his explosive and blown up the shed. Hopefully the soldiers would head there first as it was closer. “That’s our distraction. Come on.”
Luckily Nicolas followed Ken without arguing. “The Germans won’t know which way to go first.”
“That’s the idea, so we’re going completely in the opposite direction, and the long way back through the woods. Michel was going to give himself plenty of time, rather than cutting it short like we—you—did.”
Matt would be worried, especially after SĂ©bastien told him what had happened, but better late back than not at all.
“Sometimes these things have a mind of their own. That’s one of the challenges of—” Nicolas froze. “Did you hear that?”
Ken grabbed Nicolas and ducked behind some shrubbery. He drew his gun and motioned for Nicolas to say silent. A few moments later, two soldiers ran past their position. Fortunately they were heading in the opposite direction towards the railway line.
Oh hell. Not good. Not only were there soldiers by the original target, but patrolling the woods nearby.
“They knew we were coming,” Nicolas whispered. It wasn’t a question.
“Yes,” Ken said grimly. They’d have to sit there and wait until they were sure it was clear.
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