Red Rainbow by G Johanson (top books of all time TXT) 📗

goal is to get rid of the Nazis with as few casualties as possible, including my own group, and I make no apologies for that. I hope your grand gesture made you feel like you’d done something because no one of any importance was there. Sadly, it wasn’t just futile. It was reckless,” the Love Phantom said firmly. Hilaire didn’t want to nitpick as this was already going badly wrong, as it was always bound to, but it seemed even the Love Phantom couldn’t make his mind up about the number, whether it was 85 or 87.

Florence didn’t correct him as he had her. She had greater vitriol to spit at him, delivered almost as soon as he finished speaking. “What’s truly eating you up inside is that I did more damage to them in 10 minutes than you have in four years.”

“We haven’t been together for four years,” the Love Phantom replied coolly, opting not to tell her more.

“Longer than 10 minutes, I assume – though I’m not sure,” Florence said dismissively.

“Long enough to know that resistance without planning is chaos.”

Hilaire tried to mediate between Florence and the Love Phantom, aware that his aggressive attack had got under her skin. “The reprisals may not be as bad as you think. This hasn’t gone public. They’re hiding it because it makes them look weak. The reprisals are generally for show, but as this isn’t public, how do they justify it?”

“They don’t need an excuse,” he replied.

“No, they don’t. But to suddenly execute hostages without a reason will only stir up further discontent and makes them look irrational. Behind the scenes they want blood, but for as long as a lid is kept on this, I don’t see major reprisals occurring.”

“They tried to make a scapegoat out of her,” the Love Phantom said, meaning Patience – Florence could hardly be considered that as the guilty party. The reprisals had not happened yet – it was only a matter of time.

“Which won’t happen now. Look, this isn’t the time for this discussion. We have to come out at night,” Hilaire said, tilting her head towards Florence, who was responsible for that. “Perhaps we can talk again when you’ve had time to think, maybe a bit earlier if that would suit.”

“Are you coming or going, Patience? One chance is all you get,” Florence said.

“Ignore her, you can think about it. Let’s go,” Hilaire said sternly.

“One thing.” After Florence said this, the Love Phantom fell down to one knee. “I can track you down now if anything happens to her, so take good care of her in the meantime. I took some from your lover too only her energy doesn’t seem as depleted as yours, can’t think why,” she said knowingly.

“I’m so sorry,” Hilaire said, frogmarching an unrepentant Florence outside. If Patience had been on the fence – which she hadn’t anyway – this would have made her mind up. Absolutely ridiculous behaviour, inexcusable.

And there was another issue, which she brought up on the way home.

“You told me the police had come to arrest you on the night we were reacquainted.”

“Did not. Maxi could do a psychometric reading, and you’d see I didn’t.”

“She can’t because she’s gone, not that it’s necessary. I know you did.”

“Did not!” Florence repeated, singing it this time.

“You did and you misled me. You could have said something over our meal.”

“More important things were afoot. Does it really matter when I did it? The crux is the same – and you don’t even care,” Florence laughed, recognising an equally callous streak in Hilaire as ran through her. It was hardly a moral objection, the deceit a greater offence than the mass slaughter.

It was a clever move, Hilaire had to give her that. By offering her shelter first, Florence left Hilaire in a position where she felt coerced to do the same, as if it were the least she could do. The best of it was Hilaire would have let her stay anyway for one primary reason. Florence fought the Nazis hard. That alone earnt her a bed. Sneaky tactics like this saw Hilaire begrudge her it.

“What if I’d taken you up on your offer of coming back to yours?” Hilaire said. This would have instantly exposed the lie.

“That was never going to happen and we both know it.”

Chapter 8

Council of War

The Love Phantom did not stop with Patience and Marcella every night. Patience was pleased he came and stopped that first night for a couple of reasons. Marcella was in a better mood with him around, and it helped her settle in better, particularly with her being unimpressed with the move. She did not seem to like what the flat represented, Marcella explaining how the Love Phantom had the keys. He was in a good job, which came as no surprise to Patience from his clothes and his car. His bearing too. He had his own home as well as an apartment provided by his employers close to his office. And this apartment well away from his office, a bolthole. A place to store his mistress on the company coffers. His predecessors had had it and used it. Now he was using it too, and even though Marcella knew he had no ill intent, it still bugged her.

If it still bugged her, she’d buried it better after that first night. They had bigger issues with Florence and Hilaire showing up, powerhouses of ambiguous morality. Patience felt she would have gone back with them if he hadn’t been there fighting her corner. She called out to her right hand for help, and now they were fighting over her. The Love Phantom recovered fine after they had gone. His pride did not seem to be dented. He was a lover, not a fighter, and nobody would have fared better against Florence, as demonstrated by the massacre at the theatre. They’d been armed and dangerous. The poor Love Phantom was unarmed, half-dressed and half-awake. Patience profusely apologised