CHAPTER ELEVEN
I awoke with a start. My rest was more disturbed than anything else, but at least I had slept. Darkness permeated the small bedroom and I sat up and reached for the lamp on the nightstand next to the bed. Though my body ached from weariness, all I could think about was the Vélizy factory going down in flames.
As Ken lay asleep next to me, it made me reflect on the question of how many more years, or even weeks I could last? Stella was my age and her remains lay scattered at the gates of Dachau. She could have lived a normal life, found a new husband and started a family. And here I was, Noelle, Emelie...and whoever else I’ve pretended to be; I’ve barely escaped with my own life, and tonight I would be putting it at risk again by going to the factory.
“Ken...are you awake?”
“Yes.”
After a few long seconds, I prodded him with my foot. “Wake up.”
“Do you need anything?” He turned to face me.
“I was thinking about some things.”
“What is it?”
“Do you ever plan to quit spying?”
“When the war’s over with, yes.” He sat up.
I snorted. “And when do you think that’s going to be?”
“Listen, a couple of sources told me that the U.S. is likely to join the Allies by the end of the year. The Navy’s already getting into skirmishes with the Japanese, so this is all going to be over soon.”
I hoped his sources were right. “Do you enjoy this life?”
“If I weren’t doing this, I wouldn’t have met you.”
A flicker of a smile crossed my lips. “I’m tired.”
“We all get tired, but that’s a good thing.”
“Why?”
“It means you’re still human. If you could go through all this without feeling, thinking, or questioning, then what the hell are you?”
“Do you feel like you’re missing out on life? Even the simple things? I think the last film I saw was Wizard of Oz. I mean, when’s the last time you’ve been to a cinema? And I used to read all the time when I was at Radcliffe—”
“Yeah, I know...I stole a copy of your file, remember?”
“Of course.” I also stole a copy of his within three days.
His grin faded and he stared at me. “Last year, after the Cairo job, the Boss gave me another assignment. I went to Amsterdam and delivered a parcel schedule to the Resistance leaders. They needed to know where to pick up the food we were dropping throughout the country. They needed to feed themselves because the Nazis were taking everything. People were eating wild roots and grass, cats, dogs...anything they could get their hands on.”
“You never told me about that.” I sat up and wrapped my arms around him. Hearing about the Cairo job bothered me, but I didn’t have it in me to ask him about it just yet.
His eyes grew cold. “I delivered the parcel schedule, and then I was supposed to report back to the Boss. Instead, I went with the resistance fighters on a couple of sabotage missions. When it was over, I felt invulnerable, like I really did something. But then a week later, on a car ride across the border, I noticed a whole line of those same men I fought with, tied to fence posts, with their bellies slit open. The Nazis wrote ‘Terrorist’ across their chests in their own blood.”
“I’m so sorry.” I couldn’t find any other words of consolation, and just held him tighter.
“After seeing that, I felt like it would’ve been better if I had never come at all. I started questioning everything, and I felt...” he sighed. “But when I was back in the States, OSS forwarded me some letters addressed to my codename. They were from friends and family of the men who were killed. It took me a few weeks to gain the courage to open the damn things and read them.”
“And...?” I planted a kiss behind his ear.
“The letters said they wanted to thank me. Could you believe that? They even said they had the strength to survive and move forward. I thought...I thought their letters would say that they hated me.”
I kissed him again. “And when you saw how they really felt...you asked yourself why you shouldn’t have the strength to continue as well?”
He nodded. “I know what it means to be tired, and there’s nothing wrong with that.”
With a heavy heart, I considered his words and played out his story in my mind. Sometimes I wanted to quit because it all felt like a burden that was just too heavy to bear. I admired Stella, who refused to let her husband die in vain. Renée—she possessed that quiet strength that had eluded so many.
Deep down, I knew that the one thing I truly hated was losing people, because I lost one of the most important people in my life when I was just a child. Could I be as brave as those two women? My mother once told me, “Know what you can do, and what you can’t...and thank God if you have the sense to know the difference.” Somehow, I wanted to survive all this, and not just as an empty shell living to see another day. If there was one thing I had learned, it’s that when you’ve been involved in this for too long, you ended up broken—I would rather die than see that day...or better yet, I would want to retire and have a few neat stories to tell my grandchildren one day.
I heard a knock on the door. “Come in.”
“All rested up, I hope?” Bernard entered the room holding a hot mug of tea, looking as if he managed to curl up somewhere and sleep as well.
“Yes...we need to show Noelle a map of the factory.” Ken went over to the nightstand and pulled out the drawer. Reaching into the vacant spot, he withdrew a sheet of paper. He unfolded it and handed it to me, gesturing for me to examine it.
I studied the map and committed it to memory. There were two security checkpoints that we would have to bypass before reaching the factory building itself. The first checkpoint was a barricade placed at the road which broke off from the main road and led to the factory grounds. The second checkpoint stood at the gates. The steel gates enclosed the factory building, which had two westside entrances and one eastside emergency exit. The former enamel factory stood three stories high and had a basement area.
“Our plan is to go in and have you and Drake neutralize the weapons. The Maquisards will be our backup if anything goes wrong.” Bernard finished his tea and gestured toward the Maquisard woman, who came in with a box full of items. She sat it next to him and left.
“What about the armored cars and the tank?” I hadn’t forgotten about them.
“They’re not going to risk firing on the factory.” Bernard rummaged through the box. “And I have a few men who are going to be dealing with them, if needed. Do you still have that radio transmission jammer I gave you?”
“Yes.” I also retrieved and handed him my emerald spectacles. “They could probably use these as well. Whoever wears these can see in the dark.”
“Thank you.” He placed them into his pocket and reached deep into the box. He withdrew a black case. He opened it and presented the knife inside. I could taste the light metallic essence of the silver within the weapon and delighted in it, although I still preferred gold. I reconciled myself to the fact that untainted silver would be an immense improvement from steel.
Ken grabbed a uniform that Bernard handed him from the box. “All we have to do is get in, take care of those chemical weapons, and get out. There’s no time for fooling around.”
“We’re going in as SS officers?” I caught a wad of black garb that Bernard tossed toward me.
“I have identification for all of us.” Bernard gestured for me to start getting dressed. “God help me, this had better work since we can only use these credentials once. I’m going in as Fritz Aldarich, and you’re going to be our nurse.”
“We should also keep our eyes open for anything that can lead us to their research laboratories in the region.” I examined the nurse’s uniform, which came with a black dress, white-collared shirt, a matching cape, and headdress.
Bernard threw on his cap and coat. “We deciphered a message that said Fritz Aldarich is inspecting the factory tonight. As lon
g as we neutralize those weapons before he comes, we’ll be all right. I’ll see what I can do about the laboratories.”
Ken finished dressing and kept fiddling with his armband as if it itched. Bernard grabbed a suitcase secretly laden with weapons and tools. Once I finished putting on my nurse’s uniform, we all gazed at each other. If we wanted another day of “cheating death,” as Lyder would've put it, we could not afford to make a single mistake.
The Tower's Alchemist (The Gray Tower Trilogy, #1) Page 16
