The Undaunted (Book 2 of The Undesirables)

Chapter 33: The Daredevil

Jack didn't want to be here, in the barracks, surrounded by men. If this was his last night alive, he wanted to spend it with Bel. But he couldn't. There was a limit to what Major Volkov would put up with. And on a night before a battle this important, a battle that might determine the entire course of the war, discipline had to be enforced. So, Jack slept alone, or, more truthfully, tried to sleep. But the sleep never came. It was kept at bay by his anxiety. He hoped his fatigue wouldn't distract him from shooting down German bombers.

Jack and his fellow pilots didn't have to be woken before dawn on November 19. They didn't have to be woken because they had never fallen asleep. They automatically raised, their well-tuned internal clocks telling them it was time. They dressed by electric light, gathered their flight gear, and double and triple checked their parachutes. Jack wasn't the only pilot to recognize that this was a suicide run.

They gathered at the airfield, meeting their mechanics by their planes, talking quietly as they went over each machine. Jack saw Bel, Lenka, and Bobby gathered in the distance. He couldn't see their faces in the gloom, but he recognized the shape and movement of their silhouettes. So, he walked over to them.

A cigarette lighter flared and Jack saw its glow reflected on Bobby's face. Then Bobby leaned over to light Lenka's cigarette. Lenka drew the smoke into her lungs and then blew it out through lips pursed in a kiss. Bobby smiled.

That's interesting, Jack thought to himself as he arrived. "Good morning," he said.

Bel reached out to him and rubbed his shoulder, self-conscious about the inappropriateness of giving him a kiss. Jack folded his arm back to take Bel's hand in his and squeezed it.

"This is a good day to die," Bobby announced, as he drew smoke from his cigarette and blew it up into the sky.

"Is it?" asked Lenka, her eyes squinted and her head lopsided.

"Crazy Horse," Bobby told her.

"Crazy who?"

"It's an Indian name," Jack explained, "an Indian war chief. He said it before he went into battle."

"Did he win this battle?" Lenka inquired.

Bobby nodded. "He did."

"Did he die?"

"No," Bobby smiled, "he did not."

"In that case," Lenka removed her cigarette from between her lips and yelled up into the black night: "Today is a good day to die!"

Bel laughed, Lenka's antics having broken her melancholy mood.

Jack, though, shook his head. "I don't think any of us will die, not today at least."

Bobby raised an eyebrow. "Gonna give us a pep talk?" he asked.

Jack shook his head again. "Don't need to. I don't think we're gonna die because I don't think we're gonna fly."

"We have to fly," Bel challenged. "Our brothers and sisters need us," she said, referring to the Russian soldiers who were about to cross the river.

"Maybe they do," Jack agreed, "or maybe they don't. Either way we're not flying."

"Why do you think that?" Bobby asked.

"Because it's still dark, and dawn broke almost half an hour ago."

Bobby, Bel and Lenka immediately checked their watches. Sure enough, it was well past dawn. "You're right," Bobby said, impressed.

"Bad weather?" Lenka surmised.