A man wearing a military uniform, walked hastily through the dense jungle. He stopped in a clearing and looked up. Even through the darkness of the night he could see the well-built treehouse. "I've found you, Marguerite Smith," he whispered in a think German accent.
* * * *
It was well into the night when Lord John Roxton woke from a deep sleep. He slowly stretched and got out of bed. He headed straight for the balcony, pausing only as he reached Marguerite Krux's bedroom, unable to resiste the urge to check on her. Roxton opened the door and silently slipped to her bedside. She looked so peaceful and quiet. And beautiful. He gently brushed a lock of hair from her closed eyes, and kissed her forhead. He left the room as quietly as he had entered.
The fresh air from the balconyfelt good againt Roxton 's hot skin. Behind him, the floor boards creaked. Roxton spun around quickly and grabed his gun. "Malone? Challenger?" he called. "Marguerite, is that you?"
"Marguerite?" a german voice growled. "Where's Marguerite?"
"Who are you?" Roxton asked, raising his gun. And if it's Marguerite you want, you'll have to go through me first, Roxton thought violently.
* * * *
Marguerite woke up to the sound of gunfire. She flew out of the make shift bed and rushed to the living area. Roxton held a smoking gun and on the floor was a uniformed man. She felt the color drain from her face,as the man caught sight of her.
"My death won't stop them from finding you. There are many more from my party that will find you Miss Smith." HE said this in german, but Marguerite was not the only one who understood it. George Challenger knew a little german, and had understood those sentences.
"You will pay for our loss, Marguerite," And with that the young german soldier died on the treehouse floor.
* * * *
It was well into the night when Lord John Roxton woke from a deep sleep. He slowly stretched and got out of bed. He headed straight for the balcony, pausing only as he reached Marguerite Krux's bedroom, unable to resiste the urge to check on her. Roxton opened the door and silently slipped to her bedside. She looked so peaceful and quiet. And beautiful. He gently brushed a lock of hair from her closed eyes, and kissed her forhead. He left the room as quietly as he had entered.
The fresh air from the balconyfelt good againt Roxton 's hot skin. Behind him, the floor boards creaked. Roxton spun around quickly and grabed his gun. "Malone? Challenger?" he called. "Marguerite, is that you?"
"Marguerite?" a german voice growled. "Where's Marguerite?"
"Who are you?" Roxton asked, raising his gun. And if it's Marguerite you want, you'll have to go through me first, Roxton thought violently.
* * * *
Marguerite woke up to the sound of gunfire. She flew out of the make shift bed and rushed to the living area. Roxton held a smoking gun and on the floor was a uniformed man. She felt the color drain from her face,as the man caught sight of her.
"My death won't stop them from finding you. There are many more from my party that will find you Miss Smith." HE said this in german, but Marguerite was not the only one who understood it. George Challenger knew a little german, and had understood those sentences.
"You will pay for our loss, Marguerite," And with that the young german soldier died on the treehouse floor.