Free The White Fox Chronicles by Gary Paulsen Page A

have chosen him to go on this run if he couldn’t hold up his end of it.”

CHAPTER 9
    A s the trucks sped through the night, Cody thought about Walmer. What if he wasn’t a plant? What if …
    Rico touched his arm and whispered. “You did the right thing, kid. There are a lot of lives at stake here. Now it’s done with. Put it out of your mind. Think about the mission. These guys will all be watching you. Don’t let us down, okay?”
    Cody forced himself to concentrate on the briefing Franklin had given them. They wereon their way to the train depot at Wilcox. Rico and another man named Martin had the job of slipping in and checking out the site. When they gave the all clear, the rest of them were supposed to come in, take out the guards and load the missiles.
    Franklin had especially wanted Cody to go along because of the wall safe in the depot office. It would be his job to crack it, gather the contents and meet the rest of them back at the truck.
    Three hours passed before the trucks finally pulled off on a side road and turned out their lights. One by one the men silently jumped out.
    Rico and Martin slipped down the hill toward the depot lights. The rest of them crawled to the edge of the road and watched, waiting for the signal.
    Cody’s palms started sweating. He’d never actually killed an enemy before. There was the farmer he’d stabbed with the pitchfork. But that hadn’t been planned and he wasn’t positive the farmer had died.
    He felt a firm tap on his shoulder andglanced down the hill. A light flashed three times. Rico and Martin were in.
    Thompson led the way down the slope. There were eight of them altogether, including Rico and Martin. Franklin never sent very large teams. The idea was to take the enemy by surprise, get the job done and get out without being caught.
    Martin was waiting for them at the bottom of the hill. “The troops sent to guard the missiles are housed over there in that building for the night,” he whispered, pointing to a square shack on the other side of the tracks. “There are six guards in front of the freight car where the missiles are stored.” He turned to Cody. “The depot looks empty. Give us a couple of minutes to take out the guards, then go in.”
    “Let’s get to it.” Thompson and two men went one way and Martin and the rest went another. Cody was left standing alone, not quite sure what to do.
    He waited, counting off the seconds, took a deep breath and haltingly made his way to the depot. When he reached the outside wall, he flattened himself against it and listened. Aftera long moment he peeked around the corner. The team had already dispatched the guards and was unloading the missiles.
    Cody smiled to himself. Maybe this mission wasn’t going to be so bad after all.
    As quietly as he could he crept across the wooden porch and tried the depot door. It was locked. Cody reached in his pocket for his lockpick and in moments the door swung open.
    A dim yellow light hung from the lobby ceiling. Cody searched the room. Franklin had told him the wall safe would be in an office through a door to his right. He found the door, softly opened it and looked for the safe. It was there just as Franklin had said.
    Slipping his gun sling over his head, he laid the submachine gun on the floor beside the safe. There was barely enough light from the other room for him to see what he was doing. Franklin had given Cody a small flashlight but cautioned him to use it only in an emergency. They had received the same instructions about their guns. If at all possible, they were to pull off the entire job without a shot to avoid waking the rest of the guards.
    The safe looked like one of many he and Franklin had opened back in Los Angeles a couple of years before. Cody dropped to his knees and went to work. The first tumbler fell without a hitch. But the second one was stubborn. Cody missed it and had to start over.
    He held his breath and turned the knob again. It fell on the