ESCAPE
The three Yanks were sitting on their balcony restlessly watching the
activity in the German camp below. They were beginning to wonder if
General Bolero ever meant to release them from their promise. His sons
still remained at the villa, but they never mentioned the war. Suddenly
Lorenzo burst out on the balcony. He halted and lifted both hands
excitedly.
"Italy has surrendered!" he announced. "You are free men!"
Before the Yanks could reply, Arno and Tony rushed in. They were very
excited.
"This is the hour we have waited for," Tony shouted. "Now we will drive
out the Black Shirt Fascisti and the Germans." The younger brothers
embraced each other and danced up and down. Lorenzo smilingly watched
them. Slowly he turned to the three surprised Yanks. "My family--we
have fought against the big-talking Mussolini. We belong to the society
Free Italy."
"Great!" Allison exclaimed.
O'Malley was already headed for the door.
"Wait!" Lorenzo shouted after him. "I must tell you some things."
O'Malley halted and turned toward the door. "Sure, an' all I want is to
get back into this fight."
"I am sure you do," Lorenzo said. "And I am going to help you."
"Good," Stan said.
Lorenzo took a fat package from his pocket. It was the package his
father had given him. He held it out to Stan.
"Here are the locations of all German bases in Italy, the positions of
batteries, the supply routes used, and all the military maps you will
need. This is very important information."
O'Malley was staring at the package. "Sure, an' it's of no use now with
Italy out o' the war. We'll be headed for Germany."
Lorenzo shook his head. "I'm afraid it is not so easy as that. Germany
has as complete control of Italy as she has of any conquered country.
The Germans will be helped by our Black Shirts, who know they will be
treated badly if they do not stay in power." He spread his hands wide.
"Every officer like my father will be hunted down. We will be hunted.
Today we dress as civilians and go north to destroy Nazi rail lines and
supply dumps."
Stan took the packet. "Have you any suggestions for our getting out of
Italy?"
Lorenzo smiled. "My brothers and I will have no use for our Nardi
fighter planes. Perhaps after the war we might be repaid with an
Airacobra."
"'Tis a foine set o' brothers ye are," O'Malley cried. "Lead me to those
Nardi ships."
"They are in a woods north of the villa. On the hunting acres of the
Bolero estate there is a runway the Germans have not found. I will lead
you to your planes. But we had best hurry as the Germans are taking over
everything." He spread his hands wide and shrugged his shoulders. "You
know how efficient the Germans are."
"You will go nowhere," a harsh voice said.
The boys whirled toward the wide doorway leading to the balcony. Four
German soldiers with tommy-guns stood glaring at them. A youngster with
an officer's insignia on his shirt spoke.
"We have heard what you said. You are spies and will be dealt with
quickly."
Lorenzo was in front of Stan. He whispered, "Over the balcony rail.
There is a large shrub to land on. Take the path leading from the
kennels. Cross the ridge. There is no road to the field."
"You, stop talking!" the German officer shouted.
Stan did not hesitate. He did a backward flip. As he went over the
railing he saw flame flash from a machine gun. He caught a glimpse of
Lorenzo sagging forward, his hands gripping his stomach.
The next instant he had plunged into a large bush which broke his fall.
He lay beside a rock wall in a ditch. Vaguely he knew where the kennels
were. Tony had taken him back to see the dogs one evening after dark.
From above he could hear the officer bellowing down to the men he had
left below. He hoped the Germans had felt so sure of their quarry that
they had not surrounded the house.
Reaching a corner he discovered a guard there. The man was looking up,
listening to his commander's orders. Stan hit him hard in the back with
a knee and slapped a viselike grip around his neck. The man sagged down
without a murmur. Stan stripped off the fellows cartridge jacket and
grabbed his tommy-gun. He was glad the Germans had equipped their hounds
with rapid-fire guns.
Leaping forward he reached the back of the house. There he halted. The
squad cars were in the back yard, two of them. Four men stood at the
back door listening to the shouting above. Stan saw the kennels and set
himself to blast a path to freedom.
Suddenly he heard a wild yell from above. It was O'Malley and Stan could
tell the Irishman was seeing red. There was a fight in progress up on
the balcony. Machine guns chattered savagely. Stan felt suddenly sick to
his stomach. The boys were up there mixing it barehanded with four
Germans armed with machine guns.
The guards at the door whirled to leap into the house. Stan's submachine
gun burst into flame and he swept a pathway of death across the ranks
of the Nazis. They went down in a writhing mass, one of them rolling off
the steps and crawling away on his hands and knees, leaving a bloody
path behind him.
Stan leaped for the back door and plunged into the house. He went
through the spacious music room and up the wide stairway leading to the
balcony like a charging tank, his submachine gun at his hip, his eyes
like cold steel.
Leaping through the doorway he swept the room with his gun. O'Malley and
Allison and Tony were crowded back against the wall. O'Malley was
bleeding profusely from a wound in his shoulder. A broken chair lay on
the floor and beside it lay a dead German. Lorenzo lay on the floor face
up. He was dead, but there was a smile of triumph on his lips. Arno had
sagged down into a chair. He, too, was bleeding from a head wound.
The three Germans had their backs to the door. The officer was wild with
fury. He was shouting wildly.
"If I did not have orders to bring you in so that we can force you to
tell who your underground helpers are, I would shoot you all and leave
you here to rot!"
"Put up your hands or you'll stay here to rot!" Stan snapped.
The Germans whirled about. As they turned, the two soldiers dropped
their guns and elevated their hands. The officer came around with his
machine gun firing. Stan opened up and cut him down. The two men began
shouting:
"_Kamrad! Kamrad!_"
Stan backed them up against the wall. Before he had gotten them moved
O'Malley and Allison had their tommy-guns. They stripped the ammunition
from the soldiers.
"Tie them up," Stan snapped. He turned about and saw that Tony and Arno
were kneeling beside their brother.
"We should go now. We cannot help him, but I shall see that he is
mentioned in my reports as a hero in the cause of democracy," Stan said
softly.
The two brothers straightened and rose to their feet. They stood stiffly
and saluted.
"We will show you the flying field," Arno said.
"We better get moving. Both squad cars made off and they'll bring back
reinforcements. The drivers didn't happen to be armed or else they
thought the place was garrisoned." Stan nodded toward Arno and O'Malley.
"Plug those wounds as you go along."
"I will get first aid and medicine from the cabinet in my room. I'll
overtake you," Tony said.
They moved down the wide stairway, leaving the German soldiers where
they would be rescued. Tony dashed off while the others, led by Arno,
hurried out of the house and across the yard to the stables. Racing
through the spacious barns they came to the kennels. By the time they
had passed these Tony had caught up with them.
Pushing through a hidden gate in a hedge they came to a bridle path over
which tall trees draped their branches.
"I say, a beautiful spot," Allison murmured.
"It has the smell of auld Ireland," O'Malley said wistfully.
"We are very fond of it," Tony said.
Arno was ahead, moving rapidly upward. They hurried along and caught up
with him. From then on there was no talking; the trail wound upward
steeply, covered by a canopy of trees. Reaching the top of the ridge
they broke out into a forest. Arno led them to a spot where there was a
narrow flight strip. Still they saw no planes.
Crossing the strip they entered a grove of tall trees and there stood
three, trim ships. O'Malley yelped with joy. Stan looked at the craft
critically. They were Nardi FN 500's, obsolete in speed and fire power,
but trim and sturdy ships just the same. Arno smiled.
"We built this secret field so that we could slip in at night without
the black-shirted Fascisti knowing where we had gone. We met often to
plan the overthrow of Mussolini and his murderers."
"You landed here at night?" Allison asked in amazement.
"Certainly," Arno answered modestly.
"We could use you as a fighter pilot," Stan answered. "When you get
through blowing up bridges and trains, you'd better join us. We'll vouch
for you."
"We will do that. We like very much to fly," Tony said eagerly.
"You will find the guns on the ship are serviced. The engine is 1200
horsepower, you have two fixed guns firing through the prop and two guns
fixed in the wings. You can get three hundred and fifty miles per hour
out of those ships," Arno spoke proudly.
"Yet they are not as good as the Messerschmitts or the Focke-Wulf," Tony
added. "And I think you will have to fight your way home against the
Germans."
"Sure, an' we'll show them a fight," O'Malley said happily.
"You have gas to reach Malta, but not much for fighting. It is best that
you run fast for home," Arno advised.
"We'll do just that," Stan said, remembering the package inside his
shirt.
Tony and Arno helped them wheel the Nardis out on the flight strip. They
were surprised to find another ship tucked away under the trees.
"Father's ship," Arno said with a catch in his voice. "But he has not
been able to come for it."
"He'll come," Allison said, but he was not so sure the general was
alive. He knew the Germans would be ruthless in wiping out all
anti-Fascist leaders in the territory they controlled.
The boys climbed up and got into the beautifully streamlined cockpits.
They slipped into the Italian parachutes and got set. Arno and Tony
acted as ground crew and the engines were soon turning over smoothly.
Stan checked his dials and made himself familiar with gun controls and
equipment; he cracked the throttle and listened to the roaring surge of
power. Then he throttled down and leaned out, waving an arm in a signal
that he was leading off. O'Malley and Allison answered the signal. They
knew it was their job to see that Stan got through with his reports and
maps.
Stan kicked the throttle open and the Nardi roared to life, leaping
forward with surprising speed. Stan hoiked her tail with an added blast
of prop pressure and tested her. She lifted at once. Unburdened by the
armor plate carried by a Lightning or an Airacobra for the protection of
the pilot and constructed of much lighter materials, she bounced off the
ground before half of the short runway had been covered.
Stan leveled off close to the tops of the trees. He wanted to make sure
Allison and O'Malley got away, and so he did not want to stir up the
swarm of German fighter planes on the big flying field just a few miles
away.
O'Malley came up and then Allison. They dropped into formation beside
Stan and he set his course by compass, straight for Sicily.