The Prisoner by Robert Muchamore

Author:Robert Muchamore [Muchamore, Robert]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781444914061
Publisher: Hachette Children's Books
Published: 2012-10-03T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY

Marc couldn’t tell his fellow orphans the truth about the last two years of his life. Even if he had, none would believe that he’d got mixed up in plans to steal the blueprints of a miniature radio transmitter, helped destroy Nazi plans to invade Britain, then escaped across the Channel, where he’d been given espionage training by the British Secret Service, before being captured and sent to prison in Germany while on another undercover mission to sabotage U-boats.

When Marc ran away he’d never been further than Beauvais, six kilometres south of the orphanage. He’d never been on a train, never eaten in a cafe or restaurant. That was still true for most of the kids in the orphanage, so they were easily impressed.

After a satisfactory afternoon nap on clean orphanage sheets, Marc woke just before 6 p.m. and found a group of little kids badgering him with questions. It was all little stuff, like what the Paris Metro was like, had he seen a Panzer tank, was Paris near the sea?

The older boys were more interested in how Marc had survived on his own for two years. He told them he’d spent the whole time in Paris, living in empty houses, making money doing odd jobs. He even jazzed the story up with a couple of hot girlfriends.

Marc got full-on hero worship from everyone until his old nemesis Lanier returned from his job at the local bakery.

There’s usually a pecking order with kids: tough dominates weak, clever outsmarts stupid, tall looks down on short. Marc and Lanier’s mutual hatred grew out of the fact that they were so alike. Same age, same build, both quite clever. Lanier probably had more of a nasty streak, but in the charged and occasionally brutal atmosphere of a boys’ orphanage Marc had been no angel.

As they sat at tables behind the dilapidated orphanage eating their evening meal – the first time Marc had eaten three meals in a day for what felt like about a million years – Lanier squatted on the table’s edge in a sweat-stained baker’s overall and took every opportunity to remind the others that during Marc’s escape, he’d stolen a boy called Noel’s working boots and smashed another boy’s head through a window.

‘Sebastian’s got scars on his cheek,’ Lanier said. ‘He’s working in Germany now, but you’d better steer clear if he ever comes back.’

There used to be kids of sixteen and seventeen in the orphanage, but Marc had noticed there was nobody older than fourteen now.

‘Are they all in Germany?’ Marc asked, depressed at the thought.

Forced labourers got paid wages and were treated better than prisoners, but there wasn’t much in it.

‘Some work in factories here,’ Jacques explained.

‘Noel?’ Marc asked.

‘Director Tomas sent him to work on the wall, I think,’ Jacques said.

‘Wall?’ Marc asked.

‘Atlantic wall, dummy,’ Lanier said, delighting in Marc’s ignorance. ‘Building defences along the coast, in case the Yanks and Brits invade.’

‘Ahh,’ Marc said.

He’d rarely heard the news in prison camp. When you did it

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