The Zabaletaña manor house rose above the surrounding forest and farmland on the crest of a hill, dominating the landscape. It made the mansion back in England look like an ugly pile of concrete. Chief figured it must be some kind of Medieval architecture, with tall pointed turrets guarding all four corners. Fancy carved stone work surrounded the windows, doors and the tops of the turrets, and colorful stained glass glinted in the moonlight.
Garrison had said the stone perimeter wall surrounded about ten acres of lawns, gardens and orchards, but Chief would have guessed more. The wall was two feet thick and eight feet high at the point they'd chosen to climb it. At least the Krauts hadn't strung barbed wire along the top yet. Climbing over it using the rough stone for foot and hand holds wasn't as challenging as what they routinely tackled on their obstacle courses, but Goniff offered each of them a boost up, then scrambled over last, agile as a monkey.
They left Actor at the wall, and Garrison led them as far as the storage shed at the edge of the rose garden, taking up his position there. Chief followed the shadowy figures of Casino and Goniff along the maze of paths through the rose garden to the covered stone portico at the back of the house. Even the servants' entrance was adorned with marble columns and a massive, ornately carved oak door.
Casino gave a frustrated huff at the sight of the heavy iron lock that secured a thick wooden bolt in place. "Shoulda just brought a blow torch," he groused, but he pulled his lock picks from his hip pocket and set to work. After a few false starts and muttered curses, the latch clicked, and Casino pulled the bolt free. The door creaked open on big iron hinges, and they slipped into the dark back hallway, pausing to make sure the noise hadn't attracted unwanted attention.
The ancient manor breathed silently, with the odor of centuries of dust and history. Old, dry wood. Musty cobwebbed corners. Smoke and grease from long-ago meals. Candle wax and lye soap. This was the working part of the house, where servants sweated in service to their masters. The fancy meals, starched linens and polished silver went upstairs to the nobility, leaving the ugly and unwanted here in the shadows.
After several minutes, while his eyes adjusted to the dark, Chief hadn't heard a hint of movement, except for the mouse that scurried behind a cupboard. The guards probably avoided this part of the house the same way its masters did. He and Casino left Goniff near the back door and staying close to the wall, headed down the hallway toward what the plans had identified as the kitchen.
Unlocked double doors on the right opened into a space built for fixing fancy meals for crowds of people. The yeasty smell of fresh bread clung to the still air. In the dimness Chief could make out two big iron cook stoves, and at least a dozen cabinets lining the walls, full of drawers and glass-fronted shelves storing fine china. In the very center of the room, a marble-topped counter held pots and pans waiting to cook tomorrow's breakfast.
As Chief eased the hall door closed behind him, Casino zeroed in on the inconspicuous door in the far right corner. On the plans, it opened onto the stairway that led up to the third floor servants' quarters, but the real thing looked more like a closet just barely big enough to hold mops and brooms.
A soft sound grabbed Chief's attention. Not the scratch of small claws on old wood. Not Casino moving toward the stairway. More like soft footfalls and the swish of fabric, and it came from the hallway behind him. He snapped out his knife and silently opened the blade against the palm of his hand, pressing himself to the wall next to the door as it pushed open a crack.
A child, clad only in a filmy nightgown, squeezed through and eased the door closed behind her. When she turned, she froze at the sight of Casino still standing in the middle of the room. Before she could utter a sound, Chief reacted, grabbing her from behind and clamping his free hand over her mouth. Her startled gasp turned into a sharp squeak. As he clutched her small body against him, he only had a brief second to catch Casino's eye roll before they heard the voice from farther down the hall.
"Hallo? Ist jemand da?"
The girl squirmed against him, trying to slither from his grasp, and he tightened his grip. Casino nodded toward the small stairway door, and Chief followed him, dragging the struggling kid with him. The three of them squeezed into the cramped space, and Casino pulled the door shut, careful to do it gently. Dim light from somewhere up the stairs kept the stairwell from being totally black, but they dared not risk another move. Chief stood on the bottom step, leaning against the wall, the little girl hugged so tightly against him he thought he'd crush her. Facing him, Casino pressed against the opposite wall, staring at the floor, holding his breath.
The kitchen's hallway door opened, and two sets of hard-soled boots stepped cautiously into the room. The kitchen light clicked on, and it shown through the crack under their hideaway door.
The girl tried to wiggle free. Desperate, Chief pressed the lethal edge of his blade against her throat. She went still, pushing back against him, shrinking away from the knife. He hated terrifying her, but he had no choice.
"Ist irgendjemand in hier?" one of the guards called.
Chief pushed the knife harder against the kid's throat to emphasize his threat.
"Ich habe es dir gesagt, Cort. Es war nur eine Maus." The second guy sounded impatient and just a little drunk.
One set of boots moved farther into the room and their owner started pulling open cabinet doors. "Vielleicht ist noch etwas Kuchen übrig."
The second guy was getting edgy. "Sie werden uns in Schwierigkeiten bringen. Lass uns gehen."
Giving in to his companion, the curious one slammed the cabinet closed with a resigned grunt, and they both headed back to the hallway, flicking off the light and closing the doors as they left. Their voices and footsteps disappeared back up the hall.
Chief took a minute to breathe again and wait for the guards to get well out of ear shot. Casino punched him on the shoulder and jerked his head toward the steps leading up.
Was he out of his mind? There was no way they were going to grab the cross and get out of this place undetected, dragging a half-naked, squirming kid with them. Chief scowled and jerked his head in the other direction, toward the kitchen.
As if to assert his point, the girl lashed out with a swift kick that solidly connected with Casino's left kneecap. He stifled a grunt. She'd have done real damage if she hadn't been barefoot.
With a sigh and a last roll of his eyes, Casino gave in and reached for the door, easing it open. Out in the kitchen, he started pulling open drawers until he found what he was looking for - a stack of linen napkins. He shook one out and used it to tie the girl's hands in front of her. Then, as she stared at him with wide eyes, he quickly replaced Chief's hand over her mouth with another napkin, knotting it behind her head.
Casino cracked opened the hallway door and checked to make sure they were still alone as Chief lifted the child over his shoulder. She was a skinny little thing - couldn't weight more than 30 pounds - but she was an awkward load as he rushed to follow Casino toward the back door.
When they reached the end of the hall, Goniff ducked out from behind a cabinet and came up short at the sight of them. "Hey, that ain't a cross."
Casino pulled open the heavy oak door and gave Goniff a hard shove through it. They dodged back between the rose bushes, trying to avoid the thorns, the girl clutching the back of Chief's shirt with her bound hands. As they reached the garden shed, Garrison appeared like a ghost from the shadows. Chief set the girl on her feet in front of him.
Even in the dim moonlight, the Warden's expression gave away his displeasure. "Guys..."
"Well, we couldn't just leave her back there to scream her head off, could we? Not unless I let Geronimo here slit her throat."
"I ain't gonna..."
Garrison cut him off. "Not now. We gotta move."
This time Casino picked up the girl and slung her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. "Okay, kiddo. Hold on tight."
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Her name was Layla, and the shepherd said she was the 10 year old daughter of the cook at the manor house. Señora Bidarte had given her some warm clothes and a good meal, and now she sat leaning against the sheep pen with Goniff, away from their group sitting on the floor in the middle of the cottage. She was absorbed in his card tricks, apparently none the worse for wear after her kidnapping ordeal. Maybe it was because she knew the Bidartes, or maybe it was just Goniff. Chief was intrigued at how kids naturally took to the little thief. He was good at entertaining them, but he also had a kind of child-like quality of his own. When he had to, he was just as capable of mowing down a squad of Krauts as the rest of them. But he was also the first to admit to the fear, to try to wiggle out of a mission, or to crack a joke to break the tension. It all seemed to be one big, dangerous game to Goniff, like just another jewel heist with higher stakes.
Chief felt the kid watching him. Every once in a while he'd look up and catch her dark, wary eyes staring at him. If she had a knife, she'd probably gut him like a dead trout.
Sitting opposite Chief, with the manor house floor plans spread between them on the floor, Garrison crushed out his cigarette in the empty tin can he was using as an ashtray. "We can't risk letting her go until we have the cross."
"I do not believe she will be missed for a while," Todor told them. "Her mother is more than just a cook for the Germans, if you know what I mean. She pays little heed to the child."
Garrison called their attention back to the task at hand. "Okay, guys, listen up. Goniff, get over here."
Goniff scooted over to join the discussion. The girl followed him, and stretched out on her stomach between Goniff and Actor, studying the plans as seriously as the Warden.
"This sets us back a couple of days, but that's all," Garrison continued. "At least twenty more guards arrive tomorrow, so we'll have to do some careful reconnaissance to get a handle on their routine and adjust our timing. Todor, anything you can find out about the guards inside the house would be a big help.
Casino, tomorrow you and Goniff take a position here, near the front." He tapped a section of the plan. "Actor, you and Chief do the same on this rise behind the house. If the guards set up a perimeter patrol, I want it timed to the second. You know what to look for."
The kid looked up at Garrison questioningly. "What is this?"
Garrison's head snapped up at the sound of her voice. "You speak English?"
"Un poco." She gave him a knowing little smile. "The soldiers teach me."
"Her mother also worked for the British and Americans who came to fight Franco," Todor explained.
"It's a drawing of the manor house," Garrison told her. Turning the top sheet of paper so Layla could see it right side up, he traced the penciled lines with a finger tip. "This is the back door you came through tonight, and this is the kitchen. La cocina."
"You speak Spanish?" Todor sounded surprised.
"Un poco," Garrison admitted. "Actor's the real linguist."
"You want to go in the house?" Layla asked. "So the soldiers don't see?"
"Yeah, that would be the plan," Garrison sighed and turned back to the drawings, his eyes narrowed in concentration. "After we have a better idea of how the new guards will be deployed, we'll try again, using the same plan…"
Layla cut him off. "Why not you go in the…" She paused, trying to find the English words. "La cueva pirata," she finally huffed in frustration.
Garrison tilted his head, trying to work out the Spanish. "Cueva pirata?"
Then he and Actor translated simultaneously. "Pirate cave?"
Layla beamed with glee. "Si! Pirate cave!"
Casino backhanded Goniff on the shoulder. "Ha! What'd I tell ya. A secret tunnel."
"Where?" Garrison asked.
She slapped a small hand onto the plans, in an area where there was nothing but forest, just outside the west wall. "Aqui."
Chief could see the excitement beginning to glow in Garrison's eyes. "The cave leads into the house?"
"Si."
"Show me where."
Layla poked at another spot on the plans. "Aqui. The church room."
"Church room?"
"I believe she means a chapel," Actor suggested.
When Garrison looked up at Todor for confirmation, the shepherd only shrugged his ignorance.
"Can you take us there?" Garrison asked, the growing excitement evident in his voice.
The girl grinned. "Si por supuesto."
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Señora Bidarte complained that it was late, and the girl should be sleeping, but Layla was just as excited to show Garrison the cave as Garrison was to see it. Down the moonlit dirt road, and across a pasture dotted with sheep and hay stacks, she led them to the edge of the forest west of the manor house, and then through the dense woodland to where the ground started to rise to meet the stone perimeter wall about a hundred yards up hill. They followed her into a tangle of vines and undergrowth to a spot where she started pulling dead branches and uprooted bushes out of the way. Behind a high granite boulder, completely hidden from view, was an opening in the hillside about four feet wide and just tall enough for the kid to walk through standing upright. She grinned back at Garrison as she headed into the cave.
The Warden switched on his flashlight. "Looks like a tight fit. Actor, you stay out here and watch for trouble." Then he motioned to the rest of them and crouched to follow Layla into the darkness.
About fifty feet in, the tunnel narrowed where it had evidently caved in long ago. They had to slither on their stomachs across rocky, damp ground for another 20 feet before the passage opened into a larger space, tall enough for Chief to stand.
A match flared. Layla lit an oil lamp, setting it on a low table, and the whole room materialized.
As Goniff and Casino crawled out of the tunnel behind him, Chief took in the odd scene. He guessed it was about ten feet on each side, with walls and ceiling shored up by heavy oak beams. On the opposite side, another passageway, also supported by oak beams, lead off into the darkness. The rest of the space looked to be furnished with stuff lifted from the manor house. There was a thread-bare fancy rug covering most of the floor. Along with the small table, there was a wing chair with springs and stuffing sticking out, a bookcase, and a pile of faded quilts. A one-armed stuffed bear leaned sideways in the chair, looking like he'd just finished off a bottle of Scotch, and a few pieces of chipped china sat on the table.
"My secret house," Layla grinned. "I am a pirate here."
Casino straightened, looking around. "Quite a lair you got here, kiddo."
Goniff brushed the dirt from his hands and headed for the bookcase, picking up a candlestick to inspect. "So you live here, do ya?"
"I fight the Nazi here," she insisted.
"I bet you do," Casino conceded.
Garrison had headed straight for the opposite passage. "This leads into the chapel?"
"Si. There is a door in the floor."
"A trap door in the chapel floor?"
She nodded.
"Casino, you're with me. You two stay with the girl."
As Casino followed the Warden into the shadows of the passageway, Chief took up a position next to the tunnel they'd just crawled through, leaning against the rough oak beam. As far as he was concerned, 'stay with the girl' meant don't let her leave.
Picking up the stuffed bear, Goniff collapsed into the chair. As they waited quietly, the kid's guarded stare rarely left Chief. He stared right back, wondering what was going on behind those dark eyes.
After a while, Goniff got bored with just listening to water drip somewhere farther up the tunnel. "So you and Teddy here fight the Krauts? I bet you have them runnin' scared."
Puffing herself up to her full four and a half foot height, her black curls a tangled mess around her dirty face, Layla really did look like a pirate in the colorful, oversized clothes Señora Bidarte had dressed her in. "The Nazi, he runs in fear from me," she proclaimed.
Goniff chuckled, and she glowered at him. From beside the bookcase, she snatched up a length of tree branch that had been fashioned into a sword, with a smaller branch lashed to it as a hilt, and the business end whittled to a sharp point. She brandished it like she was fighting Errol Flynn. "I stab them and I kill them and I cut off their heads! Chop chop!" She slashed the branch downward twice to make her point.
"Careful with that thing," Goniff grinned. "You might hurt somebody."
Again she slashed her weapon back and forth and cautiously approached Chief. With the carved tip, she reached out and tapped his knife sheath. "I will fight you."
He pushed the stick away. "I don't think so."
"I will fight you," she insisted again, pressing the point against his chest. "And I will win."
Having sharp objects pointed at him wasn't one of his favorite things, no matter how crude they were. He pulled the stick from her grip. "Not with that you won't."
"Hey, take it easy, mate. She's just playing."
It may seem like a game to Goniff, but to the kid it was deadly serious. Chief realized it was fear he was seeing hidden behind those black eyes, and not just fear of him. She was a helpless kid alone in a world gone crazy. How long before someone discovered her secret hideaway? How long before some Nazi got bored with her mother and came looking for fresher meat? He'd been about her age when he'd first realized that his knife could kill more than just the next meal, do more than just defend him against imaginary dragons. It had been a chilling but powerful realization.
"I am not afraid of you," she spit, trying to grab her sword back.
Chief tossed it across the room, then released his blade into his hand. When he snapped it open, she took a step back, but the defiance didn't leave her eyes.
He twirled the blade and offered it to her handle first. "This'll do more damage."
She stared at the blade for a moment, then looked up at him, this time with confusion instead of fear.
"Go ahead. Take it."
Gripping the hilt firmly in her small hand, she flashed it around like she had the stick, then she pointed it at him.
Every instinct told him to rip it out of her hand. Instead, he gently took it from her and demonstrated closing and opening the blade. Then he handed it back to her. "Keep it. Use it when you have to."
Layla rewarded him with a bright smile and quickly folded the blade and slipped it into one of the deep pockets of her skirt.
Goniff had been watching cautiously, and finally spoke up. "I dunno, Chiefy, she's just a wee mite. What if you need it?"
"I got a backup."
They were interrupted by the sound of Garrison and Casino coming back down the passageway. Garrison emerged first, and paused briefly to take in the tension in the room. "Everything okay here?'
Goniff grinned at him. "Just peachy, Warden."
It didn't look like Garrison was convinced, but he dismissed it. "There's a trap door that opens into what used to be the chapel, just down the hall from the kitchen."
Chief pushed away from the wall. "So let's get this done."
Garrison shook his head. "It's almost daylight. There's too much activity around the kitchen now. We'll hit it tonight."