“I will soon have one,” the general answered grimly.
The boys spread out in the darkness along the side of the last van. They moved forward with automatic pistols ready. Stan picked his man, a burly officer with a flashlight. The Germans were so intent upon the arms they had found that they did not see their attackers until the boys were upon them. The burly officer was the one who sounded the alarm. He shouted loudly as he shot his light over the raiders. Instantly the boys opened up. With pistols flaming they charged. Stan saw the general leap ahead and tear a rifle from the hands of a falling German.
For a moment the action was furious, but the fire from the forty-fives was deadly and the Germans went down or leaped away. Stan located a sack of grenades that had been removed from the car. He took out a couple and tossed them over toward the big gate. The result was all that he had hoped it would be. A dozen armed guards had been standing at the gates under shaded lights, while the machine-gun crews outside were dragging their guns around to bring them to bear inside the yard. After the second grenade exploded with a roar Stan saw nothing at the gate at all except a pile of bricks where one of the entrance pillars had stood a moment before.
“Good going, but Tony has been hit,” Allison shouted. “Better get into the car!”
Arno had the engine roaring while Allison and the general were sweeping the yard with tommy-gun fire. Tony lay on the floor of the car, shoved down to keep him clear of flying lead. From the shadows all around them bullets were whining. Stan slid in beside Arno. He could not find a tommy-gun, but he had the sack of grenades on his lap. Leaning out through the window of the car he began lobbing them at the windows of the big house. He hoped some of those he tossed would be incendiary grenades. Arno drove parallel to the house for a short distance to give Stan a chance with his grenades.
The car swerved as they passed the door. Stan was able to plant a grenade into the open door and to add another before they straightened out for the charge at the gate. They hit the pile of loose bricks lying in the entrance and one tire exploded. The car wobbled and careened but shoved through the opening without turning over.
As they smashed through, Stan saw flames leaping out of the doorway. A gaping hole in the wall, revealed by the fire, showed where one grenade had done its work. They had charged ahead only a few hundred yards and were not clear of the driveway when they saw ahead of them a small tank and two trucks. Men on foot swarmed beside the vehicle. With a roar the whole driveway ahead burst into action. The careening car had been sighted. Arno twisted the wheel and they plunged through a hedge and down a steep bank where the car came to halt with its radiator smashed against the trunk of a tree.
“Get the tommy-guns and grenades,” Stan snapped. “Get Tony out!”
Tony was already out. “I have the wound plugged,” he said in a weak voice. “I’ll manage.”
“We’ll help you along,” Stan said. “You lead the way, Arno.”