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“I am very sorry for Étienne,” Philippe says.
Marie nods.
“It must have been very hard,” Philippe says quietly.
Marie starts to answer but hears something in his tone. Rainy hears the same thing.
Philippe goes to Marie and touches her cheek. “Tell me,” he says. “Tell me how they turned you.”
“Turned . . . what are you . . .”
Philippe says, “Lieutenant Jones, do you believe we should stop here for a rest?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because the tracks lead straight to us.”
Philippe points at Rainy. “You see? It is obvious. And yet, Marie, you go along.”
Whap!
Philippe slaps Marie hard across the cheek, hard enough to start blood dribbling from her nose. “Traitor! Collaborator! Tell me how they got to you.”
Marie tries innocence. “I don’t know what you’re talking about! Why have you struck me?”
Philippe, overcome by emotion, turns away. Rainy says, “You killed them both, Marie. You shot Wickham, and when you couldn’t convince Étienne, you shot him. Your own brother.”
“He was a bastard!” Marie cries with shocking venom. “My brother! Hah! If you knew . . . Forever sneaking around to look at me in the bathtub!”
It is a confession, however much Marie wishes to cloud things with accusations.
Marie makes a quick grab for the Sten, but Philippe knocks it to the floor, and now the Walther is in Rainy’s hand.
Rainy looks at Philippe. He has recovered somewhat. Now the maquis fighter is back. Now he wants and needs to know how Marie was recruited, by whom, and how many others in the organization are also turned.
“He is going to marry me,” Marie says defiantly.
“Marry you? Who?”
“My sturmbannführer,” Marie says, spitting it defiantly. “He o
wns a castle in Germany. His family is very rich! When the war is over we will be married.”
“A sturmbannführer?” Philippe demands. His voice cracks. “That’s an SS rank. You’ve been sleeping with an SS officer?”
Marie, desperate, tries to turn things around. “This one.” She stabs a finger at Rainy. “Do you know what she is? She is a Jew! Look at her, she is a dirty Jew! Her true name is probably Cohen or Silberstein. She does the bidding of the English Zionists, a Jew bitch bringing war and destruction to our countrymen, Philippe!”
Philippe looks helplessly at Rainy. Their eyes meet, and both know what must happen. They are on the run, easily exposed, and after blowing up the fuel dump there will be no mercy from the Germans.
And no more time.
“I cannot,” Philippe whispers, pleading with Rainy.
Marie’s eyes go wide. “What are you talking about? Do you . . . are you proposing to murder me? My God, Philippe, have you lost your mind? The invasion will fail! Dieter told me himself, the Atlantic Wall cannot be breached. And what then, Philippe? What then when the English and the Americans have been thrown into the sea? The Germans will come for your family, my family . . .”
“I . . .” Philippe’s eyes are filled with tears. “I cannot . . .”
