“Thanks for the smoke shells,” he said into the receiver. He switched through to his command post. “Say, send along a couple of trucks for prisoners. And a medic and ambulance. At least three wounded here—one pretty bad.”
He turned back to the others.
“Well, Ouvarski,” he said pleasantly, “I certainly sent you into something. Headquarters said positively no Germans left in this area.”
“They came out of this château and we had to take cover in the barn, sir,” Ouvarski said.
“Take it easy,” Dobie said, “all of you, till the trucks get here. Sergeant! What ails you?”
Weller limped into sight along the wall.
“We’ve about cleaned ’em all out—finally,” he grinned.
Dobie frowned. “But what happened to you?”
“Got myself a bullet.” Weller’s smile broadened and turned into a grimace of pain.
“I thought I told you to stay away from those Germans,” Dobie barked.