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A rmand crouched by the hedge on the road by the lavender field, all his senses alert as he watched and waited in the darkness.

The road looped around the outskirts of the chateau grounds and, after poring over maps and intercepting a coded message, he had discovered this was the designated pickup spot for the British spies.

It wasn’t certain the rendezvous was scheduled for tonight, but he would return every night until they appeared. He had dragged a Vichy radio specialist away from dining with his family and ordered him to make sense of the coordinates and decode the message.

By cross-referencing the coordinates with the map, the disgruntled Legion member had presented him with this location. Armand refused to enlighten him when he asked for more details and, fortunately, the man was keen to return home and didn’t press.

Armand was determined to claim the hard-won victory for himself. When his colleague parasites were taking it easy, he was working around the clock to save his country.

His leg throbbed in the uncomfortable position, but the pain was merely a niggle in the grand scheme of things.

His thoughts were firmly set on the success that was now within his grasp.

Thank goodness the informant had told him about the British spies when she did, or he would have missed his time to shine.

The first thing he did when he discovered spies were operating in his backyard was grab a wireless set from the Legion and hole up at home.

Living at the top of his apartment building was finally to his advantage.

Armand had brewed a fresh pot of coffee and organised a space at the table in the kitchen.

The experts at Gestapo HQ on his course in Paris had taught him how to operate a radio and to intercept enemy messages.

All afternoon he listened and by early evening he was growing weary and discouraged.

What if the spies had a secure line he couldn’t tune into with any of his Gestapo tricks?

He continued fiddling with the radio and found various channels.

Armand was not a man who gave up easily.

He heard snippets of German army talk, channels with crackling and hissing on the airwaves, and a British news broadcast that almost sent him to sleep.

But still, he didn’t give up. He had a feeling something was going to happen.

The static caused interference, but when a transmission that met the criteria of a spy message started coming through, Armand was ready. He scrawled down all he could. It was a brief message and most of it went over his head. All he could deduce was a set of numbers and a few words.

He knew from his training, in such messages, a contact in England would give a Tommy spy coordinates to meet a plane, or the spy would instruct his handler where to land.

By now, Armand’s face was almost purple, and he was breathless with excitement as he overlooked the meadow, waiting to catch his prey. The rendezvous was planned for 1 a.m., but the radio expert couldn’t confirm on which night from the limited information.

Armand heard murmurs in the distance. Tonight was the night. He drew his gun, and his pulse raced.

Perhaps the couple planned to return to England, but they had not bargained on an opponent of his calibre. Armand had considered bringing backup, but he estimated he could overcome the husband with the element of surprise, and his silly wife would be no match for his military prowess.

He was surprised when he saw several of them approach, but rather than leave because he was outnumbered, his vision only grew more grandiose.

He couldn’t make out the figures clearly, but he heard female voices.

The sound of a plane hummed overhead, and he remained motionless, like a tiger waiting to pounce.

He realised he had infiltrated a full-scale Resistance cell, not just stumbled on a couple during a mission, as he had assumed. Armand quickly adjusted his plan, which had been to capture and present the couple to the police with their hands bound, ready for interrogation.

Instead, he would dismantle the cell and if a few of the traitors must die, so be it.

As long as some remained alive, they could extract the information they needed to lead them to others in their treasonous network.

What a prize he would give his country—he would be celebrated throughout all of France.