said quietly. “I need you to tie me up in this chair, and I need you to hit me, hard, in the face.”
“What?”
“I must convince the Germans that you forced me to help you, and that you took my son.”
“Will they believe that?”
“I will make them believe. They have threatened us many times that if we ever helped any downed Allied pilots, we would be tortured and killed. I must convince them that I refused to help you, and so did Johan. Then I will say we fought, and you took my food, and then Johan to guide you, promising me that you will let him go once you escape. I will say I don’t know where you went. They will think this is true if I am tied up. It will be dark. They will probably search the village tonight, maybe even the beach. I am hoping they don’t find your plane and this dead man until morning. Please . . . you must tie me up—now. And you must hit me in the face.” With that, Beekman picked up a coil of rope, handed it to Shawn, and sat in the chair.
How could Shawn hit this man? Every impulse inside him was to protect him and help him. He was risking everything to help them, even giving up his only son. Shawn began to tie him.
In a few minutes Manzini returned with the crew.
“A couple of you guys drag this dead German back to the plane, except you, Nick,” said Shawn. “You stay here with me. Then get right back here. Leave him somewhere easy to find but far enough from the water so he doesn’t wash out to sea.”
Johan came out with a sack tied at the ends with rope. He saw his father all tied up. His father quickly explained why. They hugged and kissed, but Johan wouldn’t let go. “Johan, you must go, son. I love you. We will be together again, and between now and then I will have the peace of knowing you are safe. God has made this night possible. He will be faithful to bring us back together again.”
Johan stood up and backed toward the front door. “I love you,” he said.
“I love you too,” said Beekman.
Johan turned and hurried out the door.
Shawn’s eyes welled up with tears, but he shook them off. “Okay, guys, you leave now. Follow Johan to the boat. He’s the captain on this trip. He’s going to take us across the North Sea tonight. Nick, you and I will change our clothes and catch up in a few minutes.”
Everyone left, except Shawn and Manzini.
“Now you must hit me, Captain. Please.”
Shawn walked over and stood by him. “You are one of the finest men I have ever met. I can’t hit you.”
“But you must. If the Germans are not convinced, they will do much worse to me.”
“I promise you, I will get your son safely to England.”
“I trust you, Captain, as I trust the Lord.”
Shawn couldn’t believe what he was about to do. “Forgive me, Lord.” He closed his eyes and hit Mr. Beekman hard across the face.
He opened his eyes and saw Beekman grimacing from the blow. “Thank you,” he said. “You must change now and go, quickly.”
“I will never forget your kindness,” Shawn said, and did as he was told.
Shawn looked up, mentally trying to refocus his gaze back to the safety of his living room. As he did, he was looking into the face of his own father. Mrs. Fortini and Miss Townsend were staring at him, their eyes wide open, almost in disbelief. Patrick was sound asleep. Shawn had told them almost everything about this second half of the story. Except the details about killing the German officer. He left the vague impression that they had to kill him, hoping no one asked any questions. Thankfully, no one did.
“That must have been horrible,” Katherine said. “Having to hit the father like that.”
“You only did what had to be done, Shawn,” said Mrs. Fortini. “God understands.”
Shawn looked into his father’s eyes and saw tears. “I’m so sorry, Shawn. But I am so glad you had the courage to do what you did. And I think I understand Mr. Beekman. Were you able to help his son get to England?”
“The trip across the
“What?”
“I must convince the Germans that you forced me to help you, and that you took my son.”
“Will they believe that?”
“I will make them believe. They have threatened us many times that if we ever helped any downed Allied pilots, we would be tortured and killed. I must convince them that I refused to help you, and so did Johan. Then I will say we fought, and you took my food, and then Johan to guide you, promising me that you will let him go once you escape. I will say I don’t know where you went. They will think this is true if I am tied up. It will be dark. They will probably search the village tonight, maybe even the beach. I am hoping they don’t find your plane and this dead man until morning. Please . . . you must tie me up—now. And you must hit me in the face.” With that, Beekman picked up a coil of rope, handed it to Shawn, and sat in the chair.
How could Shawn hit this man? Every impulse inside him was to protect him and help him. He was risking everything to help them, even giving up his only son. Shawn began to tie him.
In a few minutes Manzini returned with the crew.
“A couple of you guys drag this dead German back to the plane, except you, Nick,” said Shawn. “You stay here with me. Then get right back here. Leave him somewhere easy to find but far enough from the water so he doesn’t wash out to sea.”
Johan came out with a sack tied at the ends with rope. He saw his father all tied up. His father quickly explained why. They hugged and kissed, but Johan wouldn’t let go. “Johan, you must go, son. I love you. We will be together again, and between now and then I will have the peace of knowing you are safe. God has made this night possible. He will be faithful to bring us back together again.”
Johan stood up and backed toward the front door. “I love you,” he said.
“I love you too,” said Beekman.
Johan turned and hurried out the door.
Shawn’s eyes welled up with tears, but he shook them off. “Okay, guys, you leave now. Follow Johan to the boat. He’s the captain on this trip. He’s going to take us across the North Sea tonight. Nick, you and I will change our clothes and catch up in a few minutes.”
Everyone left, except Shawn and Manzini.
“Now you must hit me, Captain. Please.”
Shawn walked over and stood by him. “You are one of the finest men I have ever met. I can’t hit you.”
“But you must. If the Germans are not convinced, they will do much worse to me.”
“I promise you, I will get your son safely to England.”
“I trust you, Captain, as I trust the Lord.”
Shawn couldn’t believe what he was about to do. “Forgive me, Lord.” He closed his eyes and hit Mr. Beekman hard across the face.
He opened his eyes and saw Beekman grimacing from the blow. “Thank you,” he said. “You must change now and go, quickly.”
“I will never forget your kindness,” Shawn said, and did as he was told.
Shawn looked up, mentally trying to refocus his gaze back to the safety of his living room. As he did, he was looking into the face of his own father. Mrs. Fortini and Miss Townsend were staring at him, their eyes wide open, almost in disbelief. Patrick was sound asleep. Shawn had told them almost everything about this second half of the story. Except the details about killing the German officer. He left the vague impression that they had to kill him, hoping no one asked any questions. Thankfully, no one did.
“That must have been horrible,” Katherine said. “Having to hit the father like that.”
“You only did what had to be done, Shawn,” said Mrs. Fortini. “God understands.”
Shawn looked into his father’s eyes and saw tears. “I’m so sorry, Shawn. But I am so glad you had the courage to do what you did. And I think I understand Mr. Beekman. Were you able to help his son get to England?”
“The trip across the
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