“You won’t believe the request that just came in from Queen Wilhelmina for you to play this evening!”
Melanie’s voice didn’t indicate that she’d seen anything. Her quick steps approached the settee. “I know you won’t have any problem working them into the concert, but she’s apparently a very big fan of yours.” Papers shuffled. Her footsteps stopped. “Oh. Is everything all right? What did I interrupt?”
Outside Berlin, Germany
The cool night breeze wafted through the cracked windows of the Rolls-Royce, soothing his flushed skin and unsettled heart.
He was an idiot. No doubt about it. A complete dolt.
How could he have been so stupid? All it took was the brush of Chaisley’s fingers against his skin and he lost all composure.
Nothing had prepared him for the feel of her “seeing” him for the first time. Her touch had been gentle but sure. It had taken every ounce of restraint within him to not touch her face in the same way. And the fact that she returned any sort of feeling for him was almost too much to comprehend.
But what could they do about these feelings? The whole world teetered on the edge of war. They were transporting children with disabilities out of Germany almost every week. And he was still under the orders of Section D which put him in danger every step of the way. Which could put her in more danger.
Any kind of relationship other than friendship should be the furthest thing from either of their minds. But after months together, they needed one another.
He let out a long breath. He needed to focus. Tonight’s mission was tricky, and he would need all his wits about him.
His superior had contacted him yesterday after weeks of silence.A couple other officers had intercepted intelligence regarding a flurry of activity at different German railway depots. He, and any other operatives close by, were to discover and report on what was happening.
And to sabotage the event, if they deemed it necessary.
Twenty miles east of Berlin, his first mark came into view. A lone depot nestled in a large copse of trees. Rick slowed his vehicle. No light shone out of the building and, from what he could see, there were no vehicles near it. But that didn’t mean much. He spotted a small open patch on the side of the road and pulled over.
He grabbed his notebook and the chart of scheduled trains. This was a ghost stop for German soldiers to switch out while riding with supplies. The trains here veered south into Czechoslovakia, with several more ghost stops along the way before reaching Dresden, the last stop before the Czech border.
He looked at the map—
Wait. Was that another line going east? Grabbing his torch, he clicked it on, covering it so only a bit of light shone on the map, and dragged his finger along the line, following it across the border into Poland.
Now why would Hitler want supply trains rolling into Poland? The Führer had made his desire for the Sudetenland clear, threatening the world with war if the part of Czechoslovakia was not given to Germany.
ButPoland?
Rick shook his head. Focus. Tonight was about understanding where the SIS could infiltrate and sabotage railroad lines.He tapped his pencil against the map. What was wisdom in a situation like this? On one hand, being able to derail large sections of Germany’s railway would halt the Nazis’ ability to spread troops, supplies, and weapons. It would give Britain, France, and any other allies the opportunity to pounce on—and perhaps subdue—the Wehrmacht. The Nazis would be in trouble without their powerful armed forces.
However, the train was also the main way Jewish families were fleeing Germany into surrounding nations. He clicked off the torch and rubbed his eyes. He needed sleep. Everything was beginning to blur together. He grabbed his small Thermos and poured a cup of black coffee. Perhaps a jolt of caffeine would do the trick.
A few minutes later, he pulled his cap on and grabbed his small notebook, pencil, and torch. Time to inspect the area.
Grass whispered under his feet as he followed a small dirt path toward the single building. It was simply constructed. No platform, only three stairs to the door. But the moonlight illuminated a worn path from the door to the tracks. So this depot was well used.
He waited five minutes, listening for the rustling of grass. The crunch of boots on gravel. Anything that might alert him to the presence of someone on the premises. When all he could hear was the whisper of wind, he clicked on his torch again and made some notes about the size of the building, the number of windows, and access points. He rounded the corner to the west side of the building and spotted another building deeper in the woods. It was at least two times the size of the depot.
Rick glanced over his shoulder, then back to where the building was. The depot seemed to block the view of it from the road.
He slid his notebook into his pocket and turned off his torch. It looked like there was another slim, well-worn path from the back of the depot into the trees. A warm breeze rustled the trees, and Rick paused. Was that the snap of a branch? He made it a few more paces when all the hair on his arms stood up.
Someone was behind him.
Slowing his breaths, Rick slipped his hand into his jacket and pulled his gun from the holster.
The footsteps weren’t hurried, but purposeful. Rick counted to five and then whirled around. “Drop any weapon you have, or I will shoot to kill.”
The figure paused, both hands going up. Rick locked his gazeon the shadow, his fingers tight on the handle of his gun.Please help, Lord. I don’t want to have to shoot this man.
“A blessing on the fallen brave!”
