Page 102 of The Librarian Spy

Marcel ran from his side then, fast despite his limp as he grabbed Elaine’s arm and dragged her back with him.

Energy jolted through Elaine like electricity, charged by the hail of bullets chipping at the wall and floor around them as they sprinted for the door. A sharp pain bit into the back of her calf, but it scarcely slowed her as they escaped to the back terrace.

Together they ran for the rear wall. Before Elaine could consider how to scale it, Marcel was lifting her as if she weighed nothing, pitching her over the ivy-layered ledge. The back of her leg burned, but she didn’t stop to examine it as she staggered to her feet. Marcel was immediately beside her, grabbing her arm once more to pull her along.

Up ahead, Gestapo agents filled the alley.

Elaine skidded to a halt. Her gaze darted around the alley for any doorways or windows they might use for escape. And found none.

There was nothing but the lethal force behind them. And yet another in front of them.

They were trapped.

“Halt,” the Gestapo shouted, the click of their guns echoing off the high stone walls on either side of them.

Beside her, Marcel withdrew a revolver from his gray trousers. Blood spattered his body and several bullet wounds showed against his jacket, wet with streams of blood.

But when he met her eyes, there was a strange sense of serenity within them. “They will not take me alive.” His voice was weak, as if the thread of his life would soon be snipped short.

In that instant, myriad thoughts flitted through Elaine’s mind. Joseph and life without him after the war. Nicole and what was done to her. What Marcel had been subjected to and his certainty that he could not withstand another round. Her own fear that she could not endure such torture without giving away secrets that might get others killed. And in that moment, she knew with certainty she could not be taken either.

“I also don’t want that,” Elaine breathed.

Marcel shook his head. “Do not ask this of me.”

She straightened despite the pain in the back of her leg and a pinching sensation at her side. “Do not let them take me alive, Marcel,” she hissed vehemently.

“Elaine.” His face crumpled, his eyes filling with tears.

The jackboots pounded the pavement, coming closer.

His hand shook as he lifted the gun, its barrel mere inches from Elaine’s torso. “May God forgive me,” he whispered.

The gun went off and pain exploded in Elaine’s chest with an impact that sent her flying to the ground. A weight seemed to settle against her solar plexus, pressing the air from her lungs and making her heart beat in heavy, thick pumps. In the distance came another single shot as the world went dark.

At least in their terrible world of ugliness and hate and war, she had managed to save Sarah and sweet little Noah. For they were her last thought as she slid into a velvety abyss. Without fear. Without pain. Without hope.

TWENTY-FIVE

Ava

Ava consulted Peggy for more of her tactics and found they had grit. Between Ava’s persistence, plus a few miracles coming into play, she managed to secure an extension on Sarah’s and Noah’s visas. The envelope containing the updated visas was waiting for her when she arrived at the embassy early that morning when she should have been out gathering newspapers. It was a worthy sacrifice. While there still wasn’t enough time to make the USS Siboney, unfortunately, she could secure new tickets.

Once more, Ava appreciated the elevated position her employment at the embassy allowed her in aiding her friends. A benefit to which other refugees did not have access.

Amid the victory of those updated visas, however, she could not help but feel a nip of disappointment after the mail had been distributed. Yet another delivery without a letter from Daniel.

A knot twisted in her stomach. One she’d felt only once before—when her parents failed to return from France.

“What are you doing here?”

Ava looked up from the stack of mail to see Mr. Sims looming over her desk. A shudder threatened to shiver down her spine, but she squelched the reaction. “I had something urgent to tend to.”

His gaze fixed on the visas. The telltale flush of color spread over his neck, and he squared his shoulders. “Miss Harper, your job is not—”

The crackle of a radio filled the office.

“Listen to this.” Peggy waved them over.