As they approached Nazi headquarters, Agathe noticed the concentration of tanks, armored cars cruising about the streets, the many troops in what the Germans considered the strategic quarters of the city. When they came close to the headquarters, there was a guard house and a gate. One of the guards knew Diane but stopped her and asked for both the stranger’s papers and Diane’s.
They drove up a short street, ending in a circle, buildings on both sides, well protected. It took little imagination to know there were troops on either side. Diane stopped on the right side, took her inside a building with some wood paneling, three short steps to get to the soldier sitting at a desk, his weapon in a half-open drawer. He also knew Diane and was going to waive her on, stopped, seeing Agathe.
“Wait,” he curtly ordered. “This one? I’ve never seen her before. Is she a friend of yours?”
“Yes,” Diane answered in a disgruntled voice. “Do you think I’d bring in someone who shouldn’t be here? She’s a cousin I haven’t seen for some time. Can’t you see the resemblance?”
More politely, the soldier asked for Agathe’s papers. He could not upset a commanding officer.
They took an elevator to the third floor, were shown into a spacious office with floor-to-ceiling windows, partially shuttered, a large desk, where sat a tall, husky man with wide, puffy cheeks, broad arms resting on the desk top.
“Ah, Diane. You brought your cousin. Pleased to meet you, mademoiselle.” He rose, went to them, held himself from kissing Diane, and shook Agathe’s extended hand. The perfect gentleman. Agathe was a bit fearful but also excited. She was in the headquarters they would attack, and, hopefully, capture this bastard. She watched both closely. The general ordered brandy for them. Agathe begged off. She did not like liquor and also needed clearness. She noticed the General look questioningly at Diane. She tried to avoid him and turned to Agathe. “The General has waited a long time to meet you. He’s heard much about our friendship since we were children.”
After a while, Diane walked to one of the windows while Agathe sat in a corner chair close by a table where they had the drinks. The General stood behind Diane, listening to her whisper, “I think - I don’t know – maybe I can turn her. She may look sure of herself, but I wonder.” She glanced back to Agathe and smiled. Agathe thought, Forced. At that moment Agathe saw her reach back and lightly touch the General’s hand.
I’ve got to get back. This is no act.
“Would you excuse us for a moment, Agathe?” the General asked.
“Of course.” Involuntarily, she looked at his crotch. He’s probably so hard he has to get her even though I’m here. Stop being a fool. They want you and all of us. She’s a freakin’, fucking traitor. I just know, that look and touch at the window, the whispering. I’m, well – not like her, but I am attracted to Étienne. Here I am still a virgin. Hmm? That’s war.
On the way back, Diane’s biggest mistake, revealing her a traitor, was asking when the attack would come rather than waiting by her radio for Agathe’s short signal.
At the farmhouse, after Diane left, Agathe asked to speak to Étienne.
“What?”
“She’s a German agent,” Agathe curtly said.
“Now what makes you think that?” he smiled. “She’s been with us for some time now.”
“And how many members have you lost?”
He thought for a moment. “I know there were some lost in the city. One night we were caught attacking a train and lost a man and woman. But that didn’t seem unusual,” he lied.
“C’mon, Étienne. You’re too smart not to wonder.”
That charming smile of his again, damn. I do like him. His eyes. God, I could lie in those arms. Cut it. He has suspected. That’s why he sent me.
“She’s more than his mistress. I’m sure she’s good in bed. That rear of hers and the way she swings it.”
“So does yours more than usual sometimes,” he laughed. He stopped, immediately serious. “What happened?”
“The way she was with the General, the little signals, the stupidity of asking about the attack instead of waiting for my short signal. Damn. When I think I’ve been transmitting information to her. They’ll be down on us. I know it.”
“No they won’t.” He thought just a moment. “We’re moving and will watch and get them, take care of her in Lyon.”
Agathe felt sorry for Diane, but only in passing. She wanted the woman dead, hanging like so many of the citizens had been. Screws her ass off with that General, gets whatever she wants. And now she thinks she’ll screw us. Deirdre, you’re getting to be a hard bitch. She smiled. Étienne noticed. “What’s going on in that lovely head, Agathe?”
“Revenge,” her voice hard. She softened her tone. “Étienne. I just wish this war would end and I could be a woman, a real woman.”
“Silly one. You are, well, no I do understand.”
They sat looking at one another, her arms bent, her head resting in her hands, gazing at him. Why did I tell him that? You’re trying to seduce him and know you can.
“Tell me about yourself, Étienne. You know more about me. What was it like in Greece?”
“I was an art dealer, traveled about the Mediterranean, France etc. I hunt for art objects to sell. When the Germans came to Greece, I came back home and quickly got involved with the Resistance. Exciting, no?”
“You joke, but it sounds like fun and good work. I love art objects.”
Étienne, watching her, the eyes, hair, face, glancing at her breasts showing just above the table, felt a stirring in his groin. He imagined her naked, wanted to touch her.
Aware of his thoughts, she did not move when she felt his hand on her thigh, slowly moving upward, waiting to see whether she would stop him. Instead, she placed her hand over his and moved it close to her orifice while spreading her thighs but forced herself to stop him, suddenly thinking of Kevin. I don’t know if he’s alive or dead nor he I. Now is now. We owe each other nothing. Never did.
“No. We shouldn’t. The quarters are too close,” his voice hoarse. She did not want to stop though, feeling her nipples tightening and her increasing wetness.
“No, not here,” she loudly whispered.
“We’ll get away from the others.” They were both breathing harder. “Later, Agathe. All right?”
She let out a loud breath, moving her head slowly up and down once.
And later, they went to the barn and climbed into the back seat of the car. “It should be our only time together in a place like this. I want to see you.”
Juliette woke for a moment, noticed she was missing, thought nothing of it until early morning when they had to be ready to leave. “You were late, Agathe,” Juliette said with a wide grin. “Tell me. You like him, don’t you?”
“We have work to do. Let’s get ready.” She did smile at Juliette. “I do.”
“He’s a hard one to resist.”
As they dressed, Agathe thought of the car, saw herself taking off her dress, unfastening her bra, feeling Étienne pulling down her panties, his fingers curling her hair, inserting his fingers, his hands then rising to her breasts, murmuring how lovely they were, and the sucking on her nipples. She thought of how in the dim light they had from leaving the door ajar, watching him take off his pants, his underwear, watching his hardened penis as she reached for it and lightly slid her hand along the shaft, as he moved her so he could push inside. She felt the pain - still hurt this morning – yet was happy. She thought of his patience, when soon aware it was her first time. After, she waited, pleased, until he was ready; the next time, he turned her on top of him, parting her legs so her foot of one leg rested on the car floor, guided her, listening to her moaning as she moved back and forth, up, down, listening to her deeper breaths until she shouted, leaning backward. She lay on him, not wanting to leave, wishing they were in a bed.
“Come on, Juliette. We’re going to be first ready. Won’t we surprise Diane and her General?”
“He was good,
I bet,” Juliette teased.
“Keep quiet.”
“Your face is red, Agathe.”
“Oh, stop.”
“Agathe, I’m not jealous. I’m not even sure, though I see men that are appealing, that I want one inside me, not after. . . .” She stopped. Agathe went to her, hugged and kissed her mouth.
“Sometimes I wish I could just have a woman,” she whispered. “Kiss me again.”
Agathe did and eased back, enjoying the feel of Juliette’s lips. “If anything happened to me like to you, I don’t know what I’d do. I hope I’d be as brave as you.” She hesitated, “I’d let you be with me, if I could,” She hesitantly mumbled, “I’m not sure. You understand?” Deirdre did then start questioning what it would be like to make love to another woman, that perhaps it would be more pleasurable, softness against softness, each knowing what satisfies a woman.
Juliette shook her head “Yes,” and walked toward the stairs, rubbing a few tears from her eyes.
~
Everyone in the car was silent when they started. It was to be a coordinated attack. The Americans and their Free French allies had landed in Southern France and were now driving toward General Patton and Aix-en-Provence, having freed Toulon and Marseilles and much of Vichy France. Soon they would free Lyon with the help of the Resistance in which Étienne and his group were taking part. The main group would attack Fort Montluc, Klaus Barbie’s headquarters for the SS, where so many Jews and Resistance had been tortured, murdered, sent to concentration camps.
Étienne reminded them of what was happening, how they must be successful, thus the quiet thinking of what they must accomplish and wondering which of them would perhaps be killed.
Soon, however, one of the men shouted, “We’ll demolish the Boche, butcher them. No mercy for the assassins.”
Étienne told him not to be so sure, even if it is a surprise attack that comes off. “We’ll be the ones going after the headquarters. And if you find Diane, I don’t want her killed. Hear me?” shouting this last. “I want that woman myself.”
They drove to the outskirts of the city. The men in the truck spread out and walked alone or in twos while keeping track of one another, heading toward the cathedral, Notre Dame de Fouvière. There they met others strolling, despite the German troops and tanks. From there they walked northward to a far end of Place Bellecour moving closer to the German Headquarters where weapons were hidden nearby.
A German staff car conveniently parked nearby in which there were two soldiers. The Maquis quickly came from behind, leaped, grabbed the soldiers’ necks, twisting, breaking them, capturing the Germans’ vehicle that they drove toward the gate, a German waving them through, quickly stabbed, his hand still raised, two others killed the same way. The attack was on, as Étienne’s men crept through, pressing against buildings to avoid notice.
Agathe and Juliette had walked together as two women shopping. Now Agathe’s heart began beating harder as they came closer to the headquarters where Diane had introduced her to the General.
The Resistance in Lyon that was already throughout the city, as they had been since the German occupation, had previously taken on the Germans, killing many and losing Maquis men and women. Now, they believed, they would make a difference. The Germans would die and leave them free. Those attacking Fort Montluc also had a staff car, the Resistance men dressed in captured German SS uniforms.
Gun and shellfire burst in the early morning, smoke spreading, obscuring the sunrise, bodies left where they fell, scattered, dismembered. Other dead floated in the Rhone.
The attackers of Fort Montluc broke through, killing Germans in their way, quickly ran throughout the building and to the lower parts, freeing prisoners, helping those who could not walk, taking them to a relatively safe area. Claus Barbie, “The Butcher of Lyon,” unfortunately escaped with Jewish prisoners. The Resistance rejoiced, however, having seized the fort.
Étienne’s force sat on a corner manning a machine gun, others running into buildings firing. Agathe and Juliette along with men shot their way through the lobby where Diane had previously taken Agathe. Agathe, leading, led them to the third floor, broke through the door, slammed a door open. There in a corner, quivering, was Diane, abandoned by her German protectors.
Agathe, her heart beating furiously, breathed deeply, holding a rifle pointed at Diane. Calming some, she finally spoke. “Get up from that crouch, bitch traitor.” Slowly Diane rose, expecting to be shot. “Don’t, Agathe. You don’t know how helpful I was.” She wanted to pee, trembled, put out her arm, her fingers shaking.
“You were helpful. You led us here.” Agathe walked slowly toward her, placed the rifle between her legs bringing it up sharply, “Not like your Nazi’s prick, huh?” She slowly pointed down the rifle, holding it with one hand, grabbed Diane’s long hair, pulled her toward the door, Diane screaming.
Étienne took her from Agathe, gave her to two men who held her arms while Juliette pulled at her hair as she cut it off. When finished the men pushed her to a building wall.
Étienne glared at the trembling, begging woman. “I have no pity, Diane. You have helped send Jews, our compatriots, and others to concentration camps, helped kill them in Fort Montluc. You are guilty.” He paused. “Shoot her.” Diane fell. All watched, some sorrowfully, some with hatred. “We have finished our work for now. The Allies will soon be here, and we’ll help where they direct us.”
Agathe stayed with Étienne’s group for a while after the fall of Lyon to the Allies. She enjoyed looking at the mountains, seeing their power and feeling their magnetism. She spent time at Étienne’s spare quarters, a small apartment. Here they became lovers, thought of marriage, but eventually, she had to follow orders that sent her to Paris and back to London. While in Paris, at headquarters, she received orders to report to her WAC commanding officer. As Deirdre walked into the Colonel’s office, the woman smiled, returned Deirdre’s salute and walked toward her.
“Because of your meritorious service, Sergeant, you are being given a field promotion to Second Lieutenant.” The Colonel held gold bars in her hand, smiled, and told Deirdre to come close so the bars could be pinned on her shoulders. “Congratulations,” she said, smiling. “Now you’ll have to get a new uniform. In the meantime, I’ll just cut off those stripes so you can leave here and be saluted for what we know you did, the bravery you showed working for the OSS in France. You are a credit to the WAC and the OSS. Such a credit. I believe there’s a medal awaiting you in London.
Surprised, Deirdre smiled. “I expected nothing. I did what I had to, made friends among the French.” She was thinking of Juliette and Étienne. For a moment, Juliette appeared foremost, Deirdre hearing her tell of the rape, feeling Juliette’s mouth again on hers later that night, leading to hugs and kisses, searching hands to the following stifled moans in the shudder of orgasms.
“Would you like to tell me what it was like?”
“Not really. The hardest was the attack on the army headquarters, at least for me, and discovering an extremely attractive woman who had become a German double agent, the revengeful feeling, the coldness I felt when they shot her – but now. No. I . . .” Deirdre could not keep back the tears. “Excuse me, Colonel.” She choked, her shoulders shaking, trying hard to stop the flow, waited, spoke as the Colonel interrupted to tell her she did not have to say more.
“No. . . . Now . . . .” taking a small handkerchief from her breast pocket and wiping. “Now, I am sorry for her. That gorgeous woman. All that beauty wasted. Still I hate her. Can you understand?”
The Colonel’s face was grim. “You deserve every honor you receive, Deirdre. I’m proud to have you in the Corps.” She went to Deirdre, touched her hand, “Sit for a bit until you feel you can face that world outside this office.”
When she left the Colonel, she walked through the office of smiling faces and soft words of congratulations. She forced her thanks but wanted to get out, breath free air, walk on the Champs-Elysees, suddenly aware sh
e would have to buy a uniform and change her quarters. She would tell only Étienne of the promotion.
They kept in touch through the wireless, reminding one another of their loss, the feel of one another’s bodies. At night, she would lie thinking of his hands moving about her, feel the sensations, see herself sitting on him, tightening herself about him while moving slowly, or being below him, or his lips and mouth on her genitals. She heard herself and smiled with joy and then sadden with loneliness. They had decided she would finish school but be partners in his art object searches that they would sell to museums and collectors. He would return to Greece, go to Egypt, and she would return to the United States and set in place what they believed would be a lucrative business. He also promised to visit her after the war ended. Never would she forget the Alps, that small apartment, the killing, the anger, the hatred, the bodies. She buried these within her as deeply as she could. Yet, the outer beauty of Deirdre never forsook her. She had learned from her wartime experience the most effective use of her facial and body expressions. War obviously changed Deirdre. She wondered whether she had become the woman she had dreamed of being when younger.
_______________
Chapter VIII
Meeting – Memories – Departing
Deirdre was one of the many who returned during Atlantic Ocean storms. The ocean rolled the ships, the men and women hardly able to stand. Unsecured items flew about until the passengers learned better. During one day, the whistle blew continuously. Two soldiers, who should not have been on deck, and a sailor, trying to save them, were thrown into the roiling sea. It was impossible to rescue them, as some sailors on duty watched as they disappeared under the high, angry waves that buffeted the ship, broke over the decks. Unlike during the war, there were also war brides, many with children, as well as the uniformed men and women when before, in the crossing to war there had only been soldiers and later WACs with them.
Our Seas of Fear and Love Page 18
