“Halt!” The husky cry exited cracked lips.

Eric slammed on the brakes. The heavy Mercedes skidded to a stop, raising a cloud of dust that settled over the grimy soldier, who repeated his growling Halt!

Gabi stiffened in her seat. “Could be a rogue. I don’t like the looks of this.”

“Me neither.” Eric moved his hand to the gearbox. If this was a rogue soldier, that meant he could be desperate enough to open fire on them.

He quietly shifted into reverse, but the soldier moved his rifle away from Eric and toward Gabi. “Hands up, or I’ll shoot her!”

The way he uttered that simple sentence in less-than smooth

German...

“Did you hear his accent?” Gabi asked.

Eric nodded. This soldier wasn’t German. He was part of an Ost battalion—men conscripted into the Wehrmacht from Poland, Czechoslovakia, and Russia. He’d heard about this. Allied troops had been shocked to discover that they were killing Poles, Czechs, and Russians on the beaches of Normandy, as well as Germans.

Gabi pressed her back against the seat. “He’s one of those Ost soldiers. I’m sure of it.”

“Then we have to be ready for anything.”

Herr Dulles had warned them about reports of Ost battalion soldiers either deserting their posts or getting separated from their units. The absence of military discipline created a vacuum, the American director said. They were like caged animals unleashed for murder and mayhem.

Eric sought to defuse the dangerous situation. He leaned out of the open window and adopted a solicitous tone. “Hey, everything’s going to be alright,” he announced in German.

“See, we’re Red Cross.”

“Hands up! Out of the car! Both of you!” The Ost soldier advanced within a few meters of the Mercedes.

“We had better do what he says, Gabi.”

She nodded and moved her hand to the door handle.

Before she stepped out of the vehicle, Eric noticed her eyes narrowing and a determined look on her face.

He opened the door, careful to keep his hands up where they could be seen. “Listen, we just need to ---”

The soldier’s eyes darted to something behind Eric, and his world turned black.

The sound of the rifle butt connecting with Eric’s skull filled the air, and Gabi sucked in a breath as Eric tumbled to the ground. The second soldier then turned the rifle, pointing it at the back of Eric’s head. He had murder in his eyes. With no chance of reaching Eric’s side before the soldier pulled the trigger, she tried to distract him instead. “No! Stop!”

She darted around the front of the car, toward Eric. Just as she reached his side, the soldier shifted the rifle, lunged, and grabbed her wrist.

Excerpted from CHASING MONA LISA © Copyright 2012 by Tricia Goyer and Mike Yorkey. Reprinted with permission by Revell. All rights reserved.