The Iron Storm by CW Browning (classic literature books TXT) 📕

of the assembled guests gasped and began discussing the possibility of a bomb having been dropped, Evelyn turned and went back into her room swiftly, closing the door on the chattering strangers in the hallway. Crossing to the window again, she threw it open and stuck her head out, looking first one way and then the other. The streets were definitely completely dark, but they were far from silent. From both directions came the sound of distant sirens and a cacophony of shouts mixed with the strident whistles from policemen.

Pulling her head back in, Evelyn closed the window again and pulled the curtains before turning to cross over to the desk and switch on the light. There seemed to really be only one explanation: the Germans were finally launching their offensive. Swallowing, she switched on the little radio on the desk and sank into the chair as she listened intently, trying to tune to a station that wasn’t filled with Dutch, which she couldn’t understand. After a moment of fiddling, she finally heard the welcome sound of French and stopped, catching her breath as she listened to the announcer.

“We have unconfirmed reports coming in from all over the country,” the voice said in French. “German forces are advancing into both Holland and Belgium, with the Luftwaffe bombing cities ahead of their soldiers’ advance. Luxembourg is also being attacked.”

Evelyn sat back in the chair, horror washing over her. She gripped her hands in her lap, her knuckles turning white, as she listened to the hurried and anxious voice of the radio announcer.

“The army was put on full alert earlier today and is in position to repel the attacking German forces. However, everyone should be aware that Germany has launched a coordinated and simultaneous attack on Holland, Belgium and Luxembourg. There can be no doubt that the war has come to the West at last, and on several different fronts. Bombs are falling throughout Holland and Belgium, with reports of several falling on Brussels. It is believed that the Germans are trying to hit the bridges around Brussels, but so far have failed to do so. The public is being urged to remain calm and...”

All of a sudden, the sound of static filled the room as the announcer was cut off and the station went dead. Evelyn frowned and tried to tune the radio to another station, but all she could get was static on all of them. Finally, with a scowl, she switched off the radio and stood up unsteadily. There was only one reason all the radio stations would suddenly go dead in the middle of such an important broadcast. The Germans had bombed the towers. It had begun.

She crossed the room and pulled her suitcase out, heaving it onto the bed with trembling hands. She had to dress, and then she had to think. She had to find a way out of Belgium and back to France before the German army arrived in Brussels, and she knew from Norway that that could happen swiftly. If the Luftwaffe was bombing the bridges already, they would also be targeting the trains and the airports, making travel almost impossible. She would have to find another way, and she would have to find it quickly.

She was out of time.

It was almost six when Evelyn reached the lobby of the hotel to find it crowded with guests, all scrambling to discover more information from the harassed manager and his assistants. The cacophony of chattering voices, made strident by worry and panic, filled the lobby as porters rushed around trying to keep track of luggage and patrons alike.

Stepping into the chaos, Evelyn gazed around helplessly and her resolve faltered. It was a madhouse! Porters were explaining to frantic guests that there were no taxis to be had outside, nor were there any buses at the present hour. Cries of dismay surrounded her, and Evelyn lifted a gloved hand to her forehead, a wave of despair washing over her. How was she going to get out of Brussels? All of the people jostling each other in the overcrowded lobby were all trying to do the same thing, get out of the city and escape the advancing German army. There were too many of them, and she was just one single woman alone. She would never find a way out the city.

“Mademoiselle?” A voice spoke at her elbow and Evelyn dropped her hand and turned to look at a tall man dressed in a neat, brown suit. “I believe you dropped this,” he said politely in French, handing her an envelope with a slight bow.

Evelyn took the envelope automatically, looking down in some confusion. “I’m afraid you’ve made a mistake,” she said, shaking her head. “This isn’t mine.”

“Oh, but I’m sure of it, Mademoiselle Fournier,” he insisted with a smile. “I saw it drop on the stairs. I’m sure you’ll find that it’s yours. Now, if you’ll excuse me,” he bowed slightly again and disappeared into the crowds, moving in the direction of the front doors.

Evelyn frowned, watching him go, then looked at the envelope in her hand more closely. Scrawled across the face was a single word: Elena.

Her heart leapt into her throat and she set down her suitcase so that she could tear open the envelope with shaking hands. Vladimir had warned her to leave yesterday, and she had had every intention of doing so until Jens sent her that message. Now here was a message from Vladimir. How did he know she’d stayed? As soon as she thought it, Evelyn’s lips twisted wryly. How did the man know anything? Yet he always did.

Train tracks and bridges are all being bombed, as are the major roads out of the city. You must take lesser known roads and go through the country. Cross the border into France near Maubeuge. It is the safest route for at least twenty-four hours. After that, the window to get back into France will close rapidly. They are advancing