The Iron Storm

by CW Browning

  “They’re not far off,” Marcel said dryly. “Where are these messages now?”

  “I have them with me. When the invasion began, I fled to France with the intention of passing them on to my contact.” Jens flushed faintly. “Josephine tells me that that would not be a wise thing to do.”

  “Who was your contact?”

  “Asp.”

  The first flicker of emotion Evelyn had seen yet appeared in Marcel’s face, fleeting and gone before she could be sure it had ever been there.

  “I see. Josephine was quite right. It wouldn’t be a good idea at all. Asp is passing information to the Germans, and anything you give him will simply end up right back in Germany.”

  “Can you get it to someone who will know what to do with it?”

  “I can. But why don’t you take it directly to the British?”

  “I wouldn’t know how to go about it,” Jens confessed. “I thought the Deuxième Bureau would pass it along.”

  Evelyn bit the inside of her cheek to stop from displaying any outward reaction to that. Good God, if she had known what was in the messages, she could have saved them both a trip!

  “Anyway, there are also points about the invasion of France and what demands the Germans will make upon the French government,” Jens continued, unaware of the inner struggle happening beside him. “So you see, it is pertinent to both France and Britain.”

  Marcel nodded and was quiet for a moment, thinking, and Jens looked at Evelyn. She smiled encouragingly, still smarting from the revelation that she could easily have taken the information to Bill instead of sitting here in a parlor in Marle while Panzers rolled into Sedan.

  “Have you contacted Asp since you arrived in France?” Marcel asked, breaking the silence.

  “Yes. He’s expecting me.”

  “Then you must go. If he suspects that you’re aware of his association with the enemy, it won’t be safe for either of you. You must go and take him the information.”

  “But I can’t! You just agreed that I can’t!”

  “You won’t be taking him the real messages,” Marcel assured him with a quick smile. “I’ll put together a false packet, including just enough fact to make it believable if he reads it. May I have the messages?”

  Jens hesitated, then nodded and stood up, removing his coat. Evelyn and Marcel watched as he turned the collar inside out and pulled at the seam. It came away easily and he folded it back to reveal several thin sheets of paper pinned into the lining.

  “I didn’t know how else to carry it,” he confessed, carefully unpinning each sheet. “If I were searched at the border, I would have been arrested as a traitor.”

  “Very good thinking,” Marcel said approvingly, getting up and walking over to accept each sheet as it came away from the coat lining. “I commend you.”

  Jens nodded and finished unpinning the last sheets, handing them to Marcel. “That’s all of them.”

  Marcel nodded and went over to the writing desk, spreading them out on the surface.

  “This will take some time. When are you to be there?”

  “I didn’t set a time.”

  “Good.” Marcel sat down. “If you go down the corridor, there is food and drink in the kitchen. Help yourself to something while I do this.”

  “We’re fine,” Evelyn said with a smile. “Thank you. Marc sent us away with a bag full of bread, cheese, grapes and pastries.”

  “Marc?” Marcel looked up. “Oh yes. He’s a friend of Luc’s, isn’t he? I believe he’s their radio operator.”

  “That’s right.”

  “What’s he like? I’ve heard he’s very rude.”

  Jens choked and Evelyn couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped.

  “He’s very abrupt, but I didn’t find him rude at all,” she said. “He was nothing but kind to us.”

  “Good. I’m glad I’ve been misled. Luc and Josephine are good people, and they deserve to work with the same.” Marcel turned his attention to the papers on the desk. “Unfortunately, it wasn’t always the case for Luc. His first associate turned out to be a traitor, working with a German agent out of Austria.”

  “Another one?!”

  He looked up from the messages in surprise and looked from one to the other.

  “I see Josephine didn’t tell you,” he said after a moment. “Luc’s first assignment was with Asp.”

  Evelyn gasped and Jens paled.

  “No, she didn’t mention it,” he said. “No wonder she was so certain Luc would help get us here.”

  Marcel turned back to the messages and silence fell over the parlor as he went through them and jotted down certain lines onto a separate piece of paper. Jens put the lining of his coat back under his collar and laid the coat over the arm of the couch before sitting down again.

  Evelyn watched Marcel while he worked, bent over the pages before him, oblivious to their presence. Who was he? He obviously knew the intelligence network in France well. Josephine had said he worked in Paris most of the year, and she could readily believe it. He spoke with a Parisian accent, and his mannerisms reminded her of Nicolas. He was well-spoken and smart, and she wouldn’t be half surprised to find that he came from similar social circles as herself, despite this unassuming little cottage. Perhaps he worked in the government? That would explain his access to people who could act on the intelligence he passed on.

  “I’m sorry. Do you have a bathroom?” Jens asked, breaking the silence some time later.

  “Yes. Upstairs. It’s the first door on the right.” Marcel didn’t even look up. “I’m almost finished writing out the messages we’ll give to Asp, then I have to type them up. I have some paper that will do nicely. It won’t be much longer.”

  Jens got up and left the room, leaving Evelyn alone on the couch. She got up restlessly and walked over to the bookcase on the opposite wall, reading the titles on faded spines.

  “What brings you to Marle?”

  Marcel asked the question suddenly, startling her, and she swung around in surprise.

  “Pardon?”

  “I know why Monsieur Bernard is here, but not why you are.” Marcel laid down his pen and turned to face her. “How did you end up with him?”

  “I met him while I was visiting Brussels. When the invasion began, he offered to drive me back to Paris.”

  “What were you doing in Brussels? It seems a strange place for a young woman such as yourself to be alone, especially right now.”

  “I’m a personal secretary for a man who does quite a lot of business in Belgium. I was there to deliver some papers for him and arrange for a meeting between him and a few of his clients.” Evelyn gave him the standard cover story, but frowned when he simply stared at her. “What?”

  Without a word, he picked up Josephine’s letter and held it out to her. Evelyn went over to take it.

  “Read it.”

  She unfolded the sheet of paper and read it through, her face flushing as she did so. Josephine told Marcel that Evelyn was an agent working with MI6 and that she personally vouched for her discretion and integrity.

  “Oh.” She refolded the letter and handed it back to him, offering a sheepish smile. “So you know the truth.”

  A smile grazed his lips. “Yes. So let’s try this again. Why are you in Marle?”

  “The first part is still true. I did meet Jens in Brussels, and he did offer to get me back to Paris. I’m trying to get back to England.”

  “And Bernard? Will he go to England with you?”

  “I don’t know. I hadn’t planned on it, but if the Nazis get through at Sedan...” Her voice trailed off and she shrugged.

  Marcel’s gray eyes pondered her for a long moment, then he nodded. “I understand. You’re a very good liar, by the way. If I hadn’t read that letter, I would have believed you. You add enough truth to make it real.”

  “I add enough truth so I don’t trip up and give myself away,” Evelyn said with a short laugh.

  That brought a genuine smile to
his lips and he tapped a long finger on the desk thoughtfully.

  “My name is Jean-Pierre,” he said suddenly, standing and holding out his hand. “Marcel is my alias. It’s a pleasure to meet you...”

  Evelyn swallowed, taking his hand. “Evelyn,” she heard herself saying before she could stop it.

  Marcel smiled, shaking her hand, and then released it. He cleared his throat.

  “Don’t mention my name to Jens. Only a few know it, and I’d prefer to keep it that way.”

  “I agree.”

  “I’ve heard that a package was smuggled out of Germany containing blueprints and plans for extensions to the plants in Stuttgart that produce engines and munitions,” he said in a low voice. “That package was passed to a female agent in Antwerp and is believed to be heading for MI6.”

  Evelyn looked at him, careful to keep her face emotionless. “Oh?”

  He nodded. “I’ve also heard that the SS has one of their best officers trying to retrieve it. If that is true, the agent is very grave danger.”

  Her mouth went dry and Evelyn felt her stomach lurch. “An SS officer? In France?”

  His eyes bore into hers. “Be very careful, mademoiselle. There are many who will help him willingly.”

  She swallowed and nodded, forcing a smile. “Thank you,” she whispered.

  “There is no need to thank me. We are on the same side, you and I. We must take care of each other.”

  With those words, Marcel went back to the desk, gathering the sheets of papers into two stacks before picking them up. Jens came back into the room as he was turning away from the desk with a stack in either hand.

  “I’ll go downstairs and type up the packet to take to Asp,” he said. “I won’t be long. Please make yourself at home. Go into the kitchen and get yourselves some wine. Please. I insist.”

  Evelyn nodded and looked at Jens. “Come on. Let’s go have a drink. Something tells me we’ll be glad we did.”

  Jens looked at her and nodded, picking up his coat from the couch. They followed Marcel out of the parlor, and as Evelyn went down the corridor to the kitchen, she was grateful for the dim lighting to hide her pale cheeks. The SS was looking for a woman carrying a package containing stolen plans for munitions factories. She had no idea if they had a description, a name, or anything to go on, but she had to assume they had all three. It would be foolish not to. And as Marcel had pointed out, the Germans did have their sympathizers, and there were always people willing to assist them.

  And she was about to go see a man who was a double agent for them!

  Eisenjager sat in the darkness behind the wheel of his car, his head back against the head rest and his eyes fixed on the house half way down the street. He was parked in the shadows of an ancient yew tree on the corner, watching Asp’s house. Voss, he knew, had stationed himself in the alleyway across from the house. He had a much closer view, but Eisenjager could see the whole street from his vantage point. Not only would he see if anyone approached the house, but he would also see where they came from and where they went. He had no reason to be right on top of the house. His job would be done elsewhere, once the targets had left.

  Shifting in the seat, he adjusted his long legs with a grimace of discomfort. He’d been sitting in this position for the better part of two hours, and he yet to see any sign of either the Belgian or the woman. A lone boy on a bicycle had arrived half an hour ago to deliver a wrapped package, but no signals were made from the house and so he continued to wait. While he was sure Voss was getting impatient, he himself was in no rush. If Ash was Bernard’s contact, then he would show up eventually.

  Setting his head back again, Eisenjager thought of Voss standing in the alley, waiting for the woman to appear. In his opinion, the woman was a fool if she did. She’s brought the package all this way already. Why not take it to Paris herself? Why risk bringing it here? She must know that the SS were on her trail.

  He hadn’t given the woman much thought before now. Who was she? Did she work for the French? Or was she one of MI6’s agents? Voss called her a courier, which would suggest that she was working for the French. As far as Eisenjager was aware, MI6 had no couriers in Europe anymore. They’d lost them all in that ridiculous Venlo affair. He frowned. He didn’t like not knowing anything about a target, but his orders were clear. Allow Voss to retrieve the package, then move in and eliminate both the Belgian and the woman.

  It was strange, that. First they wanted him to bring the target in to Berlin without harming him, and now they’d changed their mind. He was no longer a person of interest to them. Obviously whatever they wanted from him was already obtained, or they found someone else who get them what they needed. And as for the woman, well, that was more a matter of expediency. They didn’t want any witnesses to Voss’s presence in France before the army had crossed the border.

  Eisenjager pursed his lips thoughtfully. They had also been quite clear about not allowing Voss to interrogate the Belgian. Now why was that? What could he possibly know that they wouldn’t want to fall into the hands of the SD? The whole thing was very odd, to say the least. Then again, he reflected, anytime the SS was involved, things were never normal. They were ever the dramatic ones, the SS. That’s what came of being born out of the ashes of the thugs who won the Führer the chancellorship. Nothing short of blood and pain ever gave them a sense of accomplishment. And whenever there was senseless violence, things ceased to be clear and straight-forward. Just as this operation had ceased to be a simple operation.

  Stifling a sigh, he rubbed his eyes. No. That wasn’t quite fair. It was still a simple operation. All he had to do was execute both targets as soon as they had what they needed from them. Nothing complicated about that. It was only Voss that stood to make it complicated.

  And Eisenjager had absolutely no doubt that the Obersturmbannführer would manage to find a way to do so.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Evelyn walked beside Jens, her hands in her coat pockets, and the breeze stirring her hair under the brim of her hat. It was dark, and the small town felt very hostile and unfamiliar to her as she walked, making her glad of Jens’ comforting presence beside her. Their footsteps echoed on the pavement and she tried to ignore the very acute feeling she had that they were being watched. It was only because Jean-Pierre, or Marcel, had told her about the SS looking for her, and his warning as they left for them to be alert and to look over their shoulder. He had been talking to Jens, but his eyes had flicked to her face when he said it. The warning had been taken.

  They turned the corner of the street where Asp’s house was located and Jens glanced at her in the darkness.

  “In his message, he instructed me to go to the side door,” he said in a low voice.

  “All right.”

  “You don’t have to come with me, you know,” he said, repeating the same thing he’d said before they left Marcel’s. “You can still turn back.”

  “Don’t be absurd. Of course I’ll come with you,” she said briskly. “There’s no reason in world why I shouldn’t.”

  “It could be dangerous.”

  Evelyn was silent, reflecting that it wouldn’t be the first dangerous situation she’d been in. But of course Jens had no way of being aware of that. She was hardly going to leave him to face a German double agent alone. This was the first time Jens had ever done anything like this, and his nerves showed. She couldn’t just leave him to get on with it.

  “There it is,” he said suddenly, nodding to the next house. He looked down at her. “This is your last chance to back out.”

  She tucked her hand through his arm. “Don’t be silly. I’m looking forward to it.”

  “What? You can’t be serious!”

  “But I am. This is all very exciting! I feel like I’m in one of the American spy films.”

  Jens made a strangled noise and chuckled despite his apparent unease. He looked around the dark street and paused under the street lamp in front of Asp’s house.

  “It feels
strange to go to the side door,” he said, looking at the house before them. “Almost as if we’re sneaking around.”

  “Perhaps that’s where everyone goes,” Evelyn suggested, looking up at him. “Some people don’t use their front doors regularly. If he’s one of them, it might arouse less suspicion from the neighbors to have everyone go to the side.”

  He nodded and started down the narrow path that ran between Asp’s house and the neighbor. “That’s true.”

  Evelyn was silent as she walked beside him, resisting the almost overwhelming urge to look over her shoulder. Someone was definitely watching them, she thought with a start. She didn’t know how she knew, but there wasn’t a doubt in her mind that they were. Every instinct she had was screaming a warning, but there was nothing she could do. She had committed to going with Jens into the lion’s den, and she wouldn’t back out now. They would go, deliver the false package, and leave as quickly as they could.

  And then they would be on their way to Paris where they could disappear, at least temporarily, into the city crowds. She knew just how to talk, act, and to blend into just about any arrondissement she liked. Evelyn knew Paris just as well as she knew London, and she defied even the cleverest of SS officers to try to locate her once they crossed into the city of light. They just had to get there.

  Halfway down the side of the house was the side door, painted a dark green that had seen its share of winters. Jens stopped before it and glanced at her. Then, taking a deep breath, he raised his hand and knocked. Evelyn glanced down the narrow alley between this house and the next, looking towards the street, still unable to shake the feeling that someone had been watching them. There was no one in sight, and the night was quiet around them. Lights burned brightly in the windows of the house next to them, but there was no sign of anyone peering out the windows to see who was visiting late at night. All seemed well in the little town of Marle.

  The door opened before them suddenly and Evelyn found herself looking at a man of average height who leaned towards the stocky end of the spectrum. He stood in the doorway, looking from on to the other, then wordlessly stepped back and opened the door wider, motioning them inside.