Read Rhineland Inheritance for Free Online

about that, huh, Captain Turncoat.”
    â€œNo,” Jake replied quietly. “I hadn’t heard.”
    â€œMusta happened the day you left. Yeah, we and the boys were just talking about how tragic it was you had to leave us all of a sudden like that.”
    â€œCompliments of your friend,” Jake said. “Colonel Connors.”
    â€œYeah, well, he might be our friend, Captain Turncoat, but he sure ain’t yours.” The sergeant’s gaze shifted. “That your Frenchie driver? Whoever he is, he just about made meat pies outta my men.”
    â€œThe name is Captain Servais to you, Sergeant.”
    â€œHey, boys, get a load of how the Frenchie here parlays the lingo.” The gaze remained settled on Servais. “As for trying to pull rank, Frenchie, it’s after curfew, nobody’s out, and we’re miles from the base. Which means there ain’t a soul to hear you squeal when my boys take you out back and give you and Captain Turncoat here a little driving lesson. Compliments of the house.” Dark eyes gleamed in the lantern’s glow. “That is, unless you boys got something real nice to tell us.”
    â€œWhat are you talking about,” Servais demanded.
    â€œHe means the cross,” Jake explained. “News travels fast around here.”
    â€œThat kind of news sure does,” the sergeant replied.
    â€œThere isn’t any more treasure out there,” Jake replied flatly.
    â€œNow that’s a real pity,” the MP said. “ ’Cause my boysare real eager to get on with the driving lesson, and I can’t hardly see any other way to keep them under control.”
    The barrel-chested sergeant took a step back and joined the solid phalanx of men surrounding the jeep. “Now are you boys gonna come quietly, or do we start our lesson in safe road habits right here?”
    Jake stiffened for the lunge, but before he could do more, Servais was up and moving faster than Jake thought possible.
    Instead of rushing the men who were directly beside his door and thus prepared, Pierre leapt up and over the windshield. He raced down the hood, screaming like a banshee, and crashed into the two startled men in front of the jeep. A pair of blows that were little more than a blur, perfectly aimed for the point where jaws joined necks, and the men went down like felled trees.
    The small man vanished into the darkness, still screaming.
    â€œAfter him!” the sergeant yelled.
    But as the circle began to break up, before there was a leader or a clear sense of direction, Servais was back, still yelling. He leapt up so high his body rose above the head of the first attacker, so high he kicked down on the man’s head. Touching earth, he spun like a top and planted a flying boot alongside the second man’s face. He met the oncoming fourth with hands like blades. In two strokes he stood over another body.
    Jake broke his own stillness with two bounding strides, quickly covering the distance between himself and the sergeant, and put all his speed and weight into flattening the man’s nose. The sergeant howled, grabbing his face with both hands.
    Then a baton landed on Jake’s shoulder, and the ground rushed up to meet him.
    He caught sight of Pierre falling beneath a trio of baton-wielding MPs, and was tensing his body in anticipation of the next blow when headlights came up from the other side of the barrier and shone full upon the tableau.
    The door to the saloon car opened and shut. A pair oflight-stepping shoes approached. Nobody moved. Everyone was as frozen as the night.
    A woman’s voice rang out, “What’s going on here?”
    The voice was answered by silence, save for some heavy breathing and a few soft groans. “You, Sergeant!” Sally Anders’ fury rang in the crisp air. “I’m speaking to you! What’s the meaning of this?”
    The big man rose from his crouch, attempting with one hand to