"Bill!"
Bill blinked hard. "Huh? What's - what's going on?"
Molly stood before him, fanning his face with her palm. "You looked as if you were in a daze or something. What's the matter?"
Bill still stared down the mountain. "I dunno. I was watching the show and just spaced out for a second."
"Well, you'd better space back in or you'll miss seeing our deliverance."
Paul slapped Bill on the back. "Is it not wonderful, Bill? The devil's army destroys itself. They will arrest him and take him far away."
Bill pointed. "He doesn't seem to think so. Look."
Leblanc sat polishing his badge and his gun, adjusting his uniform and combing his hair and mustache. Molly gasped. "All the signs of one preparing to die."
"You got it. He expects them to kill him."
Marie clapped her hands. "So his own kind carry out God's justice against him! How wonderfully ironic!"
Bill gazed down at the scene. "Yeah. How wonderfully. . .ironic." He spaced again and almost fell over the railing.
Paul and Simon caught him. "Perhaps you should go sit down," Paul suggested.
Bill shook them off. "No. I'm okay. I've got to see this."
A voice, distorted by an electric megaphone, ricocheted about the mountainside. "Francois, please surrender. I do not want any more blood spilled."
"Do you think me a fool, Captain?" Leblanc called back. "I know what you intend. That pretty little boy beside you will get his way. No, Pierre. If you must kill me, you will have to do it the hard way."
"Leblanc, I do not wish to kill you. I merely--" He stopped suddenly and held a conference with the "pretty little boy" at his side. They talked for several minutes. The one Leblanc called Captain Pierre grew agitated and at one point grabbed the other man by his tie and made as if to hit him. Laughter from Leblanc's end of the playing field checked his swing. The two conferred for a few more moments, then the captain gave a signal. The seven men with him drew their pistols and braced themselves over their cars. The megaphone belched, "All right, Francois. Have it your way." Marchand switched the bullhorn off and shouted to his squad, "Begin firing!"
The crash of deadly waves rolled up to Bill's consciousness as the parasites' stingers coughed out fire and smoke. The lone beetle died instantly from a multitude of wounds, but the parasites continued their vicious stinging attack on its lifeless body. The figure behind the dead beetle moved slowly, deliberately. The beetle had given its life to shield this figure. Now he must make the most of it.
"What is he doing?" Simon exclaimed over the ungodly roar.
Bill blinked back to reality. "Huh? Oh, I think I see. Watch!"
Leblanc carefully stretched out on the pavement in front of his car's bumper, on his stomach, then rolled onto his left side. He extended both arms with his revolver in his fists out before him, under the car. His gun cracked loudly and one of the officers leaped up, holding a severely bleeding foot. At that instant Leblanc whipped up to his knees, sighted over the car's fender and shot again. Marchand gaped in horror as the body plunged back four feet under the bullet's impact.
Everyone stopped shooting. All turned to wonder at their fallen comrade. Leblanc called, "As I said, Pierre. The hard way."
The spectators in the stands saw the captain double over, saw his right-hand man jump back away from him. Bill muttered, "Hope he had a light lunch."
Marchand wobbled back to his semi-crouch over the car and croaked, "Kill him!" The stingers spewed their poison once more.
"Now what's he doing?"
Bill turned to Molly. "Looks like he's reloading those two rounds he fired. Smart move."
Glass lay in disarray in and around the vehicle. Leblanc waited until the deafening crash of gunfire pulled back a little, then rose up. He quickly sighted through the open front and back windshields. His weapon bounced in his hands and gave a fierce roar. A careless policeman, occupied with reloading, did a grotesque back-flip as he clutched at his face. Leblanc didn't see the grisly results of his work; he had dropped back down as soon as he squeezed the trigger. Again he reloaded. He fired under the car again. A miss, but he now saw two sets of upturned soles on the ground where he had only seen one set. Systematically, he reloaded again.
Paul exclaimed, "Look! See what they do!"
Two men slipped off the road and down the hillside. The plan was obvious, but if the remaining four officers kept Leblanc busy, it could work.
Bill watched in fascination. "That's dirty pool."
Paul scrutinized him. "You side with him?"
"No, I just - I don't know. Something's not right here. They should at least give him the benefit of not shooting him in the back."
Molly gaped. "I do believe you feel for him."
Bill thrashed his arms. "All right! What if I do? Sure, he's a creep and he hates us. But he's honest. Well, sort of. I just hate to see them gun him down like a rabid dog or something."
Marie almost laughed. "You told me this was the Lord's deliverance for us."
"I know. And it is. I think. But - well, I don't know. Does he really have to die for us to get delivered?"
Simon spat on the ground. "Such a one, his life is nothing. He matters not."
Bill finally understood what had been pestering him. He stared Simon down. "If I remember right, that's exactly what certain people said about Jesus."
Molly inhaled loudly. "Dear God, you're right."
Paul tugged at Bill's sleeve. "What is this that you say?"
Bill whirled and caught Paul in a pincher-grip. "I'm saying that no matter how big a jerk he is, no matter how much he's wronged us, he's somebody that Christ died for! And I can't - good grief, what am I saying? But it's true! I can't sit back and watch a bunch of uniformed vigilantes murder him! We've got to do something!" He turned in desperation to Molly.
She smiled. "You're right, of course. But he has already killed two of their number. Does that really make them vigilantes?"
"What was he doing when he shot them?"
"I see your point. Self-defense, eh?"
"Right. And no matter that this cockeyed world hates us Christians for no reason, what was he doing when I shot him? And when they caught us at the farm? And in the car?"
Molly wrinkled her brow. "I don't follow."
Bill was almost wild-eyed. "His job, for cryin' out loud! What he signed up to do! Being a cop!" He stopped, out of breath. "Look. We can fault him for his personal grudge. But we're the ones who broke the law, even though we had to. But if we stand here playing cheering section while they blow him away for being a dedicated cop, are, we any better?" He took Molly's hands and gripped them like a hydraulic press. "What is it that sets us apart from guys like him? What do you think Jesus Christ would do if He was standing here? Tell me that!" He released her hands and swept his maddened glare over the whole group. No one met his eyes.
Paul mumbled, "We must save him, no?"
"It is absurd," Simon grumbled. "But you know more of Christian things than I. If this is what you say a Christian must do, I will do it."
Marie sniffed. "I also."
Bill stared at Molly. She blinked back her repentance and said, "Do you have a plan?"
Paul pointed to the scene below. "If we are to act, we must make haste. See!"
The two officers had circled behind Leblanc and were creeping out of the trees. One of them stopped and slowly extracted his pistol from its holster.
All Bill could think to do was yell. "Leblanc! Behind you!'' The shout reverberated all over their little world.
Leblanc wheeled just as the man raised his gun to firing level. Leblanc fired first. The gendarme sailed back, head first, into the trees. The other man dropped his weapon and half-flew down the hill and out of sight.
Leblanc glanced up the mountain. He knew the voice well. Why the American should care to save the hound that chased him, Leblanc couldn't speculate. But he tossed a salute of thanks up to wherever the American hid.
The man who had run away rejoined Marchand and the others. He whined in French and pointed insanely at Leblanc. Everyone up the hill strained to hear. For several seconds nobody moved. Finally Bill said, "What's he saying?"
"Too much echo to make it all out," Molly answered.
"Something about Monsieur Leblanc and the devil," Simon offered.
Bill chuckled. "Well, you can't blame him. I've wondered myself sometimes. Okay, Paul. Got that rifle ready?''
"Right here, Bill."
"Put a shot across their bow."
"Their what?"
"Stop laughing, Molly. I'll turn you over my knee. Fire a warning shot at their feet, Paul."
"Oh. Why did you not say so?"
"I thought I did. Never mind the commentary. Just do it, huh?"
Paul grinned. "Done, Bill." He stretched out and propped his rifle over the embankment. The officer who had attempted the sneak attack sat on the ground, hysterical. Marchand and the others squatted behind their cars, reloading. Leblanc combed his hair again.
"Bill?"
"Yeah?"
"I think this may prove more effective."
"You think what may prove more effective?"
"This." Paul shot the rear window out of the car nearest them. Four policemen panicked and bumped into each other. The fifth screamed and thrashed on the pavement.
Bill called, "Freeze! Everyone! Stand still and drop your guns!" Pistols clattered to the asphalt around the squad and hands went up. Leblanc started to rise with his gun pointed. Bill yelled, "You too, Leblanc! Drop it! Now!"
Leblanc looked up the hill, hesitated, then smiled. "Forgive me if I am not so careless, American. Is this satisfactory?" He leaned down and tenderly placed his revolver on the ground. He slowly straightened to his full height and raised his hands.
"That rifle is still trained on you guys, so don't anybody try anything funny. Everybody got that?"
Leblanc looked at Marchand. "He speaks the truth, Pierre. It would be very foolish. I assume that this is the same rifleman that reduced my first squad by half."
Paul said, "What now, Bill?"
"Keep 'em covered, Paul. Molly, Marie, come with me. Simon, once we have them covered down there, you and Paul follow."
Bill and the girls jumped in the Saab and zipped down the hill. Bill stopped at Leblanc's position first. "Okay, Blankey. Mosey on over there and join your pals."
Leblanc smiled. "May I have a ride?"
"No."
"C'est la vie. To ask costs nothing,"
"You're sure being cool about this."
"I will explain when I join my 'pals'."
"Fine. Get going."
Leblanc ambled across the no-man's land between the cars. Bill drove slowly behind him. When they reached the wall of cars, Bill stopped and the three got out of the car. Bill gestured with his automatic. "Everybody back. Over there."
All obeyed. Marie and Molly collected the weapons. When they had them all, Bill gave a "thumbs up" sign to Paul. Everyone waited for several minutes, but nobody came.
"I knew Simon's Mercedes was quiet, but this is ridiculous."
"Oh, dear. I just recalled."
Bill's eyes widened. "Uh-oh. Me too."
Marie started to laugh. "Simon's car, it does not go!"
Bill turned and scanned the hillside. "Wonder where they are?"
Marie trotted to the car and started it. "I will go get them."
"Good idea." Bill slapped himself in the forehead. "What a bunch of professionals!"
Amazingly, Marchand started to laugh. The squad soon joined him, and so did Leblanc. The crazed young man on the ground joined the merriment, as well. He stood, albeit a bit shakily, and took his place with the other prisoners. All but Dupont shared a hearty laugh. Dupont glared at Leblanc. Leblanc saw it and roared, "Do not look so disappointed, Dupont. You will have another chance to destroy me. Of this I am certain. For now, I merely live to fight another day."
Marchand recaptured his dignity. "What happens now, American?"
Bill stared into the captain's bloodshot eyes. "You guys get in your cars and go home."
"Ah. We cannot do this. You are still fugitives."
"And you told Leblanc to give it up if he didn't catch us by today, right?"
Marchand's eyes shifted. "This is true. So?"
"So today's just about over and he didn't catch us. For that matter, neither did you. We caught you."
Leblanc forced himself not to smile. "He has you, Pierre."
Marchand sighed. "What is the alternative?"
"Do you have to ask?"
"No, I suppose not. What of him?" He indicated Leblanc.
"Take him with you. It looks like you two need to sit down, pop a Bud or two and have a long talk. Maybe you can settle your differences without blowing each other's heads off."
The Saab pulled up again and Marie climbed out, followed by Simon and Paul. Marchand sighed again. "Perhaps you are right. Tell me, how did you know about the deadline?"
Paul said, "Soubisse told us about it before he died."
Marchand hung his head. "Yes. Poor Soubisse. We still must settle the question of his death." He turned to Leblanc. "I tell you the truth, Francois. It was this matter that forced me to pursue you. It was suggested that you killed him in a fit of rage because he did not approve of your chase."
Leblanc glanced at Dupont and started to speak, but Bill cut him off. "Well, we can clear that up right now." He pointed to Paul. "One." He gestured to Molly. "Two." He jabbed his thumb at himself. "Three witnesses who were in the car. We saw the whole thing. It was an accident. About the only thing you can fault Leblanc for is not putting a seat belt on Soubisse."
"But why was he handcuffed?"
"Frank'll tell you all about that on the way home, won't you, Frank?"
Leblanc nodded deferentially.
Marchand's eyes landed on the dead officers on the road. "This has been a costly chase. Many good men have died to capture this 'criminal' who now spares us and sends us home."
Dupont mumbled, "Yes. Six men dead. And Leblanc killed four of them himself."
Leblanc shrugged. "I mourn Soubisse and the others. As the American says, Soubisse was an unfortunate accident. As for the others, one does what one must to remain alive. The pity is that a fight with fellow gendarmes became necessary."
"You should be arrested for resisting," Dupont spat back.
"I don't know who you are," Bill snapped. "But you'd be wise to shut up and be thankful we made you lay off when we did. This guy could've blown you all away the way he was going."
"Bah! He would be dead with a dozen bullets in his back if not for you!"
Bill's anger rose. "That'd make you feel like a real man, wouldn't it? I'll bet shooting in the back is just your style. Leblanc, do me a favor."
"What is that, American?"
"When you get back home, get this yo-yo in the ring, put the gloves on and beat the snot out of him."
Leblanc smiled at Dupont. "You have my word, American. It will be my great pleasure to do you this favor." Dupont shivered a little and looked away.
One car remained, unless one cared to count the heap of jagged metal edges and glass crystals that formed an eyesore alongside the mountain road. The hulk shielded three bodies; a police crew would return in several hours to recover the fallen, including the remains of Leblanc's car.
Marchand sat behind the wheel of the humming police car. Bill stood by the other side, talking to Leblanc.
"I am sorry to disappoint you, American. Your Christian message may be true, and it may bring all that you say. But were I to receive it, I would become an enemy of the world, as you are. This I cannot accept. If such is acceptable to you, well. But I, I will return to Paris and my job."
Bill shook his head sadly. "Pity. Well, I'll keep praying that someday you discover what the most important thing in the world is, and what's really worth risking death for. By the way, what did you say to Marie a minute ago? It looks like it shook her up."
"I spoke the truth last night, American. Pierre will confirm this. Her husband lives."
"You might not have done her a favor by telling her that."
"As I discovered, unfortunately too late."
"Where is he?"
"In the National Prison in Paris."
Bill scratched his head. "Is he scheduled to get out?"
"We do not know. Secrecy enshrouds his case."
Bill shrugged. "Oh, well." He lifted his brow. "By the way, you said you'd explain why you were Joe Cool."
Leblanc rocked back and laughed. "American, I did you injustice when I denied your honor. When you saved my life, I knew you would not kill me. Thus, as I say to Dupont, I live to fight another day. It is enough for me. And I weary of our little game. I will go home and find a new rabbit to chase. And you? Where will you go?"
Bill smiled. "If I told you, you'd have to come after me, now wouldn't you?"
Leblanc smiled back and nodded. "Perhaps. On the other hand, if I should tell you that, about twenty kilometers up the mountain appears a dirt road that, if followed, leads to a secluded valley where a colony such as yours might well live in peace without discovery, one might accuse me of aiding a fugitive. Therefore, I will not tell you this."
Bill saw Marchand wipe a smile off his face and laughed out loud. "Good idea. We'd hate to get you in trouble with the captain again."
Leblanc joined the laugh, then smiled seriously. "It is full circle, American. You give me back my life, therefore I give you back yours."
"Sounds like an even trade to me."
Marchand leaned over to see Bill. "What of your car that does not go?"
"We'll manage. I'm a mechanic. Or I was before the war."
"I might have guessed." Marchand leaned back in his seat. "We must go, Francois."
Without thinking, Bill slapped the top of the car and said, "See ya around."
As the car started to move, Leblanc poked his head out the window and said, "For all our sakes, I hope you are wrong. Goodbye, American." He leaned back in and the pastel beetle chugged down the path out of sight.