The Iron Storm

by CW Browning

  The lobby was much quieter than it had been at seven o’clock this morning. All the panicked guests had made their way from the hotel and all that was left were a couple of porters and the manager behind the desk. Removing his hat, Voss made his way over to the desk.

  “Good afternoon,” the man behind the desk greeted him. “What can I do for you?”

  “Good afternoon. I’m looking for a friend. I’m afraid we were separated last night and I neglected to get the name of the hotel she was staying in,” Hans said easily with a sheepish smile. “I’m visiting from Zurich, you see, and with everything happening, thought perhaps she’d be looking for a way to get out of Belgium.”

  “Almost all of our guests have departed,” the manager told him apologetically. “I very much doubt that she is still here, if she ever was.”

  “Yes, that was what I was afraid of,” Hans admitted. “I think most of the hotels in Brussels have emptied out now. I hope she is all right and is able to find her way out before the Germans arrive.”

  “I’m sure she will fine,” the manager assured him, softening slightly. “What is the name? I can at least tell you if she was here.”

  “Marie Fournier.”

  The man behind the desk raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Mademoiselle Fournier?” he repeated. “Yes, she was here. She left very early this morning.”

  Hans stared at him, hardly daring to believe his ears.

  “Did she? Well, that’s a relief! Did she mention where she was going?”

  “No, but I would assume she went back to Paris. I booked a first class compartment on the train to Paris leaving this morning. I know the trains were delayed, but I believe they’re running now.”

  “They were delayed?”

  “Yes. I believe there was some concern about the tracks being impassable, but I think that turned out to not be the case. At least, for the time being,” the man qualified. “I don’t have any confidence that it will continue to be the case.”

  “Unfortunately, I think you’re right.” Hans sighed. “Well, I do thank you for putting my mind at rest. I hated to think that she might be stranded here, you see.”

  “I’m sure she’s safe and sound, on her way back to France,” the manager assured him.

  “Yes. Well, I’ll make my own way back to Zurich. Thank you again.”

  Hans inclined his head in thanks and turned to leave, setting his hat on his head as he approached the door to the hotel. A surge of satisfaction was coursing through him. Not only had he discovered that the courier had indeed come to Brussels, but he now knew where she was going. Paris. He had a lead! All he had to do was go to the train station and hope that the train was still delayed.

  Glancing at his watch as he stepped out into the street, some of Hans’ elation faded. The train would be long gone, and the station would be packed with people trying to get onto any train they could. Marie Fournier was probably already halfway to Paris by now.

  He started down the street towards his car parked at the end. The stations would be full, and so would the trains. There was no chance of him following by rail, even if he was willing to risk the threat of a Luftwaffe bomb hitting the tracks while he was enroute. It would be faster, at this point, for him to drive. Once he reached Paris, he would start his hunt again. While he admitted to himself frankly that he would probably never find the woman, he had to try. Otherwise he was no better than the idiot who had let her go in Antwerp.

  He had to do everything in his power to get that package back before it fell into the hands of MI6.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Somewhere near Bray, Belgium - 3pm

  Evelyn winced as another low flying Luftwaffe plane went overhead, its engine screaming. They had been buzzing the road periodically all day, but so far hadn’t done more than remind the panicked people fleeing the cities that they were there. And coming.

  “What are those?” Jens wondered, leaning forward over the steering wheel and peering into the sky. “They’re very low.”

  “Stukas,” she answered automatically, shifting in the passenger seat. “German dive bombers.”

  He sat back and looked at her in surprise. “How do you know that?”

  Evelyn shrugged and forced a smile. “I don’t know,” she lied. “Someone told me, I suppose.”

  “Well they’re getting very close.” He yawned and focused on the road again. “With all these cars packed on the road, it’s a wonder they’re not trying to stop us.”

  “I’m glad they’re not,” she replied. “We’ve been on the road all day and aren’t anywhere near the border yet.”

  “We would have been there hours ago if the rest of Belgium wasn’t on the road with us.” Jens glanced at her. “Are you hungry? There’s a farm stand up ahead there. Shall I stop?”

  “Are they even open?” Evelyn peered through the windshield at the market stand in the distance. “Perhaps they’ve fled as well.”

  “It looks like they are. I’ll stop. We haven’t eaten all day, and we need to get something.”

  Evelyn thought of the days without real food in the mountains of Norway and reflected wryly that this was really nothing compared to that. The traffic on the road was moving slowly, but steadily, and in a few minutes she could see that the market stand was, indeed, open and enjoying a busy trade. As they drew up to it, Jens pulled off the road into the grass and shut off the engine.

  “I’ll get what I can,” he said, opening the door. “Do you want to stretch your legs?”

  Evelyn shook her head. “I’ll wait here. I don’t want to be stopped any longer than we need to be.”

  Jens nodded. “I’ll be as quick as I can,” he promised, getting out of the car and closing the door.

  Evelyn watched him go over to the crowded stand and glanced at her watch. She had no idea what time they’d reach the border with France in all this mess, but she sincerely hoped that it would be before the German Luftwaffe stopped playing nice. She had no idea why the dive bombers were leaving the refugees alone, but she had a sneaking suspicion that it wouldn’t last. They were flying over too often. Of course, they could be on their way to and from bridges and railway lines, but Evelyn still didn’t trust how relatively easy this journey had been so far. Once Jens had stopped at his lodging to grab his radio and some clothes, they had been on their way. They stopped just outside of Brussels to fill up with petrol, then joined the streams of cars and trucks clogging the roads away from the city. Jens had left that main road a few miles along and weaved his way through small villages and large farmland until, at last, he was forced to get back onto a major road for the last leg of the drive to the border. That was at noon, and they had been inching along ever since.

  She shifted in her seat and looked into the backseat where the square case sat on the seat with his small bag and her suitcase. Less than two feet away sat a radio capable of sending a message to London to let them know she was all right and moving towards France. If only there was some way she could use it without Jens knowing, but that was impossible. And there was absolutely no good reason for her to ask him to send a message to London when he believed she was a secretary from Paris. No, once they were in France, she would have to find a way to use it when he wasn’t around. Somehow she had to get a message to London. Bill would be worried, not only about her but also about the package she was bringing back.

  Turning her head again, she watched as Jens spoke to a heavy-set woman in an apron, pulling out his wallet as he did so. He was almost finished. What a kind man he was, she thought suddenly as he passed the woman some bills. He didn’t have to help her. He barely knew her! Yet he’d come to the hotel looking for her this morning with the sole intention of doing anything possible to help her get back to France safely.

  The woman in the apron passed him a brown sac and a bottle, smiling widely. And now he was buying them food when he would surely need the money for himself when he got to France.

  Why is he so anxious to get to France?


  The thought popped into her head without warning, bringing a frown to her lips. What a silly thing to think. His country was being invaded by Hitler’s armies. Why wouldn’t he be anxious to escape to France? She was, and so were all the other people crowding the roads south. Yet, as she watched him make his way back to the car, Evelyn couldn’t shake the thought that something wasn’t quite right. Why had he come to the hotel looking for her? Why was he so determined to see her safely back Paris? Why had he left his position at State Security without any warning to do this? And why did he seem so calm about it all?

  She pursed her lips, watching him thoughtfully. State Security. He was privy to information that only a handful of people in his government knew. Did he know something he wasn’t sharing? Was there another reason he was so desperate to get to France?

  “I’m glad we stopped!” Jens called with a wide grin, going around the front of the car and opening the driver’s door. “We have a veritable feast!” He passed her the bag and got behind the wheel, holding the bottle aloft. “And wine too!”

  Evelyn laughed and looked in the brown sac. A long, thick loaf of bread stood next to apples and a huge block of cheese.

  “We got the last of the wine,” he said, handing her the bottle and starting the car. “The woman said her children are already halfway to the border to stay with their cousin in France.”

  “She’s not going?”

  “She is, once they’ve sold everything.” Jens looked at her. “It’s extraordinary. She and her husband decided that people would need provisions, so they’ve emptied their stores and are selling it all before they leave. By the looks of things, they’ll be on their way shortly.”

  “What a wonderful couple!” Evelyn looked back at the stand as Jens pulled back into the line of traffic. “God bless them.”

  “I’m sure He will. I just hope that He blesses us all and gets us to the border while there’s still time.”

  Evelyn pulled two apples out of the bag and turned to put the sac on the floor behind their seats. Handing him one, she crunched into the other and turned her attention out the window. Loud droning filled the air and she unrolled the window to stick her head out, gazing up into the sky.

  “What is that noise?” Jens demanded around a mouthful of apple.

  “Bombers,” she replied grimly, staring at the dark shadows high above them. “Lots of them. It looks like they’re going east.”

  Jens was silent and she rolled the window up again when a brisk wind whipped into the car. They listened to the deep hum as the planes went over them, on their way to an unknown target, and Evelyn shivered. It was a noise that she didn’t think she’d ever forget. It got into her head and resonated there, humming with warning and impending disaster, reminding her of the billows of smoke that poured from the ports and villages in Norway. She hadn’t heard the bombers then, or saw them, but she’d seen the destruction left behind from the safety of the mountains.

  That was the sound of an enemy about to bend a country to its will.

  Outside Maubeuge, France - 10pm

  Evelyn rubbed her eyes and glanced at Jens. His eyes were focused on the empty country road before them, his lips set in a line as he stared ahead in silence. They had crossed the border into France and had immediately moved onto a road that would cut through the countryside, away from the stream of refugees. Once in the open countryside, they could make their way more swiftly to Paris, or so they hoped.

  Folding the road map in her lap, Evelyn tucked it into the pocket of her door and looked out the windshield at the road ahead. The headlights cut two swaths of yellow light through the pitch blackness, giving the surreal feeling of being at sea in a vast ocean of darkness.

  “Shall we stop and eat something?” she suggested after another few moments of silence. “I’m sure you can use a break from driving.”

  Jens looked at her, nodding. “Yes, all right.”

  “There’s a break in the hedge over there. Why don’t you pull through and stop behind it?” Evelyn pointed to a gap in the hedgerow that was most likely used by farmers to cross from one field to another. “We’ll eat something and stretch our legs before we decide what to do. If we continue, I can drive and give you a rest.”

  Jens guided the car through the gap and pulled onto a rough cart track alongside the hedge. Shutting the engine off, he rubbed his eyes and stretched.

  “I don’t think I remember anything after we left the main road,” he murmured with a wide yawn.

  “You’re tired.” Evelyn twisted in her seat to pull the sac of food from the back of the car. “Can you turn on the light?”

  Jens switched on the interior light and watched as she pulled the loaf of bread out of the bag. Reaching behind the seat, he extracted the bottle of wine from where it had slid half under the seat and reached into his pocket. Pulling out an army knife, he pulled out a narrow screw and began twisting it into the cork.

  “We don’t have any cups, so I hope you don’t mind sharing the bottle,” he said with an embarrassed laugh.

  “I suppose I’ll manage this once,” she replied with a quick grin. “It’s not like we planned this.”

  She pulled the block of cheese out and unwrapped it from the paper, glancing at his pocket knife.

  “May I use that for the cheese?”

  He didn’t answer for a second as he struggled to wrest the cork from the bottle. A soft pop echoed through the car and he laughed triumphantly.

  “For you, mademoiselle, the world,” he said, pulling the cork off the screw and handing her the knife with a flourish.

  Evelyn laughed and turned the knife over in her hand until she found the straight blade, pulling it out carefully.

  “Do you know, I’ve just realized that we’ve been in a car together for over thirteen hours?” she asked, slicing off a generous piece of cheese. “And all I’ve learned about you is that your parents live outside Ghent, and that you came to Brussels last year when you took a job with the government.”

  “What else would you like to know?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. I just feel that after being together for thirteen hours, I should know more than that.” She passed him the slice of cheese and tore off a chunk of bread, handing it to him. “For instance, do you have siblings? How did you end up working with State Security? When did you become interested in radios?”

  He passed her the bottle of wine with one hand while he set the bread and cheese on his leg, balancing it precariously.

  “I’m an only child, and I’ve been interested in radios as long as I can remember,” he said readily. Picking up the cheese, he took a bite and reached for the bread. “As for where I work, they found me. I made a name for myself in a few technical and scientific journals with my...well, with some of my work with radios.”

  Evelyn took a drink from the bottle and set it between them, cutting a piece of cheese off for herself.

  “Work? What kind of work?”

  “I...well, I’ve developed some technology that’s useful in intercepting radio waves and pinpointing their location. Or rather, where they’re transmitting from. It’s all very boring, actually, but very helpful for the radio department of the State Security.” He chewed for a moment, swallowed, and reached for the wine. “Now it’s my turn. How did you end up working for a prominent businessman who puts you up at the most exclusive hotel in Brussels?”

  Evelyn chuckled. “Oh, I went to lunch at his house one day. He’s an old friend of my father’s. He was looking for an assistant, and I was looking for something to do.”

  “How long have you worked for him?”

  “It will be two years in August, if we make it that long.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, who knows what will happen with this war. There may not be a company by August if the Germans keep coming like they are.” She tore off some bread and bit into it, reflecting that it was amazing how closely fiction could mirror the truth. “Right now, I just hope we make it to Paris wi
thout any more delay. He must be worried sick about me.”

  Jens looked at her, startled. “You weren’t able to send a telegram before you left?”

  “No. I didn’t even try.”

  He was quiet for a moment while they ate, then he glanced into the back of the car.

  “You know,” he said slowly, “I have my wireless radio with me. I don’t suppose he has a radio in his building, does he?”

  Evelyn pretended to consider for a moment while she ate. After a moment, she looked up and nodded vigorously.

  “Do you know, he does!” she exclaimed. “I’d completely forgotten! He uses it to communicate with his offices in London.” Then, her face fell dramatically. “Oh, but I have no idea how to contact him in Paris. I’ve only ever contacted the London office for him, and that was only once.”

  “Do you remember the frequency and number? I could send a message to the London office. I’m sure they will relay it to your boss in Paris.”

  Satisfaction flowed through her and Evelyn felt her lips curving of their own accord.

  “Oh, would you? That would be wonderful! Yes, I remember. I have quite a knack for remembering numbers.”

  “Well, then that’s no problem!”

  He beamed at her before shoving the last of his bread into his mouth. Evelyn watched him for a second, then reached for the bottle of wine. He was such a nice man, and she was lying through her teeth to him. Well, not entirely, she thought as she lifted the bottle to her lips. He will be contacting my boss. It’s just not quite what he thinks. The thought did nothing to appease the twinge of guilt and she gulped down some wine.