Ulterior Objectives: A Lillian Saxton Thriller

by Scott Dennis Parker

  “So.” Lillian stepped to Henry and put her face in his. “What are we going to do about it?”

  “Right now, Sergeant, we’re going to get as much sleep as possible.” He cracked a half grin. “Do you want to share the blanket or not?”

  Lillian sighed and stepped away. “Not.” On second thought, she walked to the door and opened it.

  The woman Nazi and one of the men sat in chairs in the hallway. They both stood at Lillian’s approach. Both held guns at their sides.

  “Listen,” Lillian said to them in German. She hadn’t spoken the language for a bit and hoped she could be understood. “I’m pretty sure you’re not going to let me go downstairs and get my clothes, but I’d still like to ask.”

  The door to the opposite room opened. Gunter Graf stood in the doorway. He had removed his uniform jacket but still wore his pants. “What seems to be the problem?”

  “The woman wants to change her clothes,” the female Nazi said sarcastically.

  Graf gazed at Lillian from head to toe. “Miss Saxton, you look positively stunning. Why would you want to change out of those clothes?”

  Lillian stifled her disgust at Graf’s look. “To get more comfortable. If what you say is true, we’ll be taken captive in a few days.”

  “You’re already a captive,” Graf cut in.

  “All the more to the point. I’d like to get my clothes and that of Mr. Clark. Would you like to accompany me?” She stepped out of the room. The guns in the Nazis’ hands rose to aim at her.

  “Excuse me a moment.” Graf retreated into his room and returned a moment later. He had slipped on his uniform jacket and buckled his gun belt to his waist. “Ursula will come with us.” He held out his arm. “After you.”

  “My purse.” Lillian indicated it on the floor. “I need the key.”

  The male Nazi picked it up, rummaged inside, and pulled out the key. He handed it to Graf.

  With her head held high, Lillian led the way to the end of the hall. She had nearly opened the stairwell door before Ursula jumped ahead of her and blocked her path.

  “I go first,” the Nazi muttered. She opened the door and verified no one was in the stairwell. Satisfied, she nodded to Graf who held the door open for Lillian. The three of them descended the stairs to the sixth floor. Again, Ursula scanned the hallways ahead of them.

  The closer they got to her room, the more Lillian thought about her situation and what Henry had just told her. True, they had been deceived by James, but he was still willing to help the Allies provided she and Henry could get him to Britain alive. Ludlow had not trusted her, evidentially, but had trusted the mission. Now, the mission had changed. No longer was it a small codebook that could be hidden away or otherwise surreptitiously sent back to England. Now it was a man.

  And his pregnant wife.

  That thought of that fact stung Lillian more than the betrayal. Six years ago, before Paris, thoughts of making a family with James were paramount in Lillian’s mind and fantasies. She had imagined the life she would lead once they both graduated from college and James took a job back in America. She even had potential names picked out. She had talked it over with James one night. Now, walking the hallway to her hotel room, she decided she would ask him if he and Elsa had selected any names. If he had the gall to choose one of the names Lillian had picked out, she would punch him.

  “We’re here.” Graf stopped. His hand went to his holstered gun. “Miss Saxton…”

  “Sergeant Saxton, Professor.”

  “Well, if that’s the way you want it, then address me as Colonel. You made a compelling case upstairs about getting more comfortable. We’ll be here for a few days. It won’t take long for der Führer’s men to arrive. Now, when we go in, I would advise you not to try anything. I will shoot you without a second thought. So will Ursula. Understood?”

  The tone he took reminded Lillian of her time in his class. It was the tone of an older man to a younger woman whom he thought inferior. It nagged at her then and it sure as hell nagged at her now.

  “Understood.”

  Graf unlocked the door and Ursula again went in first. Lillian bided her time, waiting for the go ahead. The Nazi signaled Graf and he and Lillian entered the room.

  “Hurry it up,” Graf said.

  Lillian eschewed her make-up on the dressing table. Instead, she grabbed her valise and Henry’s bag. She checked the bathroom to see if he had left anything in there. He had a few toiletries that she slid into his bag. Snapping them both closed, she turned to Graf. “Can you carry a second blanket? There aren’t enough upstairs.”

  Graf eyed her. A pitying smile broke through his severe stare. “I find it hard to believe that the reports I read out of England of a mystery woman traveling with Frank Monroe who took out some of our men is the same woman standing in this room. You seem so”—he searched for the word—“submissive. I find it hard to believe that the Americans, soft though they are, would entrust a mission like this to a woman so meek and mild. Even your British partner has already seen your weakness and taken command.”

  Lillian’s blood boiled at the rebuke. She got enough talk like that from the men in her unit and, sometimes, even her commanding officers. It was why she spent long hours training and preparing for the missions to which she was assigned.

  But her time with Tanaka had also prepared her mentally. He had trained her to channel her mind and her energies to recognize a particular situation, its strengths and weaknesses, and figure out the best time to strike. It was clear that now wasn’t the time to act. Henry had been correct. That didn’t make it any easier to stand there and take Graf’s abuse.

  Lillian put both bags in one hand and stripped the blanket off the bed. “Fine, I’ll carry it myself.”

  Ursula snickered.

  Lillian put a shoulder into the German and knocked her sideways.

  In retaliation, Ursula swung her fist at Lillian who avoided the fist striking her face but not far enough to avoid the blow entirely. The fist collided on her upper arm with surprising strength. With her hands full, however, Lillian was unable to avoid the elbow into her midriff.

  Air huffed out of her lungs. Lillian sank to her knees. Her aching muscles heaved, trying to replenish the lost air.

  “Enough of this. Get up.” Graf nudged Lillian with the toe of his boot.

  Whirling on him, Lillian spat out venomous words. “Whatever happened to the kind, thoughtful professor back at university? You were my favorite.”

  “Things change, Sergeant. This is war and you are my prisoner.”

  With a curled lip, Lillian stood up and steadied herself. “I don’t have to like it.”

  “Who asked if you liked it? Move.”

  Ursula slapped her free hand on Lillian’s shoulder and marched her out the room and back to the stairwell. Her lungs still recovering, Lillian merely breathed steadily. She hoped other hotel guests might come by, see them, and raise an alarm. But she didn’t think that would happen. It was nearly midnight. Those people who weren’t already in bed were downstairs at the bar. They were effectively alone.

  No words passed among the three of them on the climb back to the eighth floor. Lillian struggled with the bags and blanket. The Nazis made no move to help.

  Upon reaching James’s room, the male Nazi stood. He opened the door and Lillian trundled in. The door closed behind her. The lock fell into place.

  James, Elsa, and Henry looked up at her. Something on her face must have betrayed her troubles because Henry leaped to his feet. He took the bags. She let the blanket drop to the floor.

  “What happened?” The concern in James’s voice seemed genuine.

  “I took a swing at Ursula. She hit back.” Lillian shrugged. She beckoned her three friends closer to her. In a whisper that was barely audible, she said, “I confirmed the room is bugged. Watch what you say.” Then, in a louder voice, she said, “But I got a second blanket so I don’t have to share.” She laughed. So did Henry.

  “W
ell,” Henry said, “now that that’s settled, I say we get some sleep.”

  “I’m going to change.” Lillian took her bag to the bathroom. A few minutes later, she emerged. She wore a traveling suit consisting of a khaki skirt and cotton blouse. The accompanying jacket she slung over her arm. She dropped her valise. “You’re turn,” she said to Henry.

  He grinned. “I’m fine.” He walked over to the wall and turned off the light. Ambient light came through the window, but otherwise, the room was dark. James and Elsa climbed into bed and settled in.

  Lillian and Henry made their beds on the floor next to the window. His only concession to comfort was to remove his shoes.

  Out of the darkness, James said, “I’m sorry, Lil.”

  She didn’t reply. What could she have said?

  Henry leaned in close to her. “Good work determining we were bugged. How’d you do it?”

  “They commented about your taking command of the situation. They also questioned my military prowess.”

  Henry grinned. “Which did you hate worse?”

  Despite herself, Lillian grinned as well. “Not sure. They both stink.”

  Reaching over to his side, Henry picked up his left shoe. He sat up on his elbow and showed it to Lillian. She studied it in the light from the window. “Nice shoe. Why are you showing it to me?”

  Turning it over, Henry used a fingernail on the heel. There was a soft click. He twisted the heel. It turned and dropped away. Inside was a small device with a single button. Henry pressed it.

  “You didn’t really think I went rogue, did you?”

  CHAPTER 41

  Their fitful sleep was interrupted just before dawn by the sound of bombs.

  The bombs and the anti-aircraft fire came from the east, the direction of the Belgian/German border. The targets were across Brussels from the Hotel Le Plaza.

  Henry and Lillian woke. They both stood and gazed out the window. Directly east were the train tracks that led to Antwerp. Also to the east, barely visible through trees and buildings, was the main road east out of Brussels to Louvain. Considering the direction of the bombs, Henry surmised the Nazis were attacking eastern Brussels or Louvain.

  “What’s the plan for the B.E.F. and the French now?” Lillian asked.

  Henry sighed. “Not sure. King Leopold wouldn’t let us into Belgium for fear Hitler would see it as an aggressive move. Our forces will have to march all the way from France just to meet the Wehrmacht here.”

  “Think they can do it?”

  “Of course.”

  Throughout the next hour, the citizens of Brussels awoke to the realization that their city was under attack. Sirens blared, emergency personnel drove through the city. The Belgian army, who yesterday seemed so lackadaisical, now reacted. By the time the sun broke above the horizon, Brussels found itself at war.

  Lillian, Henry, James, and Elsa were still prisoners. At seven, Henry requested breakfast from their Nazi captors. An hour later, cold food from the downstairs restaurant arrived. They all ate in silence, listening to the sounds of a city at war.

  Afterward the meal, James and Elsa lay together on the bed.

  Lillian and Henry stood at the closed window, watching. “What’s the distance of your little shoe transmitter?” Lillian whispered.

  “A few hundred yards up to half a mile.” He whispered as well, although they both agreed any bugs would likely not be near the window.

  “So you have other agents stationed here.”

  “We have agents all across Europe. Ludlow was the one who radioed ahead to alert the Brussels office we were on the way. I didn’t know it at the time, but that was one of the last acts he did.”

  “So, what’s the plan?”

  “We wait.”

  “That’s not a good plan.”

  “It’s the only one we’ve got.” Henry nodded back to the door. “There’s no way we can blast out without help. The transmitter only broadcasts an SOS. The other agents can pinpoint our location, but it’ll only be this hotel. We need to alert them where we are and wait for instructions.”

  “How do you plan on doing that?”

  Henry reached down and plucked his red handkerchief from his formal jacket. “With this.” He walked over to the desk and hefted the small paperweight. He plopped it in the middle of his handkerchief and tied the cloth together.

  “What’s that?” James walked over to see what Henry was doing.

  “A signal.” Henry pointed to James. “When I open the window, our friends outside will likely barge in. James, go open the coat closet and delay them if they come in. Lillian, you need to move the chair away from the window after I get up on the sill. For all intents and purposes, all we were doing is opening the window to let in some air. Got it?”

  Lillian and James nodded. He took his position and opened the coat closet. Henry and Lillian quietly moved the chair next to the window. Elsa sat on the bed and watched.

  “Where are you going to put it?”

  “Above the window. You noted how this hotel is built? There are cascading layers of concrete and marble on each floor. If we had the chance, we could merely walk the ledges and climb out that way. The Jerrys won’t allow that. Ready?”

  Lillian and James nodded.

  Henry stepped on the chair and situated himself in front of one of the closed windows. Lillian moved the chair back to the desk and returned. On a silent count of three, she swung open one pane. Henry quickly leaned out. With the paperweight and handkerchief in his hand, he extended his arm up and out of view.

  The key to the door tuned into the lock. In another second, the door swung open.

  And banged into the open closet door. The Nazi guard cursed and pushed harder.

  Henry kept his hand above the window, trying to find the perfect place. He brought his hand back inside. A red shape fell from where his hand had been. In a deft move, he caught the paperweight and tried again.

  The Nazi at the door reached a hand around the door and grabbed the knob of the closet door. He shoved it back, clearing the path for him.

  Henry, out of time, swung himself back inside. He landed right next to Lillian. They both faced the window and waited.

  “What’s going on?” Graf charged in behind one of the Nazi guards.

  Lillian turned. “We wanted some fresh air. It’s pretty stifling in here.”

  Graf looked at each of his prisoners in turn, weighing what he saw. “No.” He turned to another guard outside. “Bring the handcuffs.”

  While he waited, Graf strode over to the window and looked out. A breeze kicked up, bringing in welcome fresh air to the stale room. He looked at Lillian and Henry, then James and Elsa. He snapped his fingers at James and Elsa. “You two, come with me.”

  “Where?” James said.

  “Out of this room.”

  “Why don’t we go?” Lillian asked.

  “Because you want to. Gather your things,” Graf commanded James. “We don’t want to put any burden on your delicate and pregnant wife.”

  James looked at Lillian. She nodded.

  “Don’t seek her permission,” Graf snapped. “I’m in command here. Do it.”

  James Geiger busied himself with filling the common suitcase with everything he and Elsa had brought. Once he finished, he and Elsa were led out of the room. The Nazi who had gone to get handcuffs had returned. Graf directed him to lock the window handles closed.

  “You’ll just have to suffer,” Graf murmured. “The two of them are more important than you. Good try, though.” He winked at Lillian.

  She remained impassive.

  “Can we get a radio or a newspaper in here?” Henry asked. “We’d like to know what’s going on outside.”

  Graf sniffed. “What’s going on is the subjugation of western Europe.” He turned on his heel and exited the room. The Nazi guard closed the door behind him and locked it.

  “Now what?” Lillian whispered.

  “Now, it’s more difficult.” He walked ov
er to his bag and withdrew a small box of playing cards. “In the meantime, want to play gin rummy?”

  CHAPTER 42

  The one good thing about having a set of handcuffs over the window handles was that Lillian could actually crack the window to let in some fresh air. She and Henry dragged the writing table over next to the window and whiled away the rest of Friday, 10 May, playing cards, talking, and listening to the distant sounds of war. Their lunch was late and cold again, but Graf delivered a newspaper along with the sandwiches. The two agents pored over every detail, sketchy as the fog of war.

  The Wehrmacht landed parachute troopers to secure the bridges along the Belgian/German border at the town of Maastricht. The late Friday editions of the newspapers had not printed an update, but Henry commented that the Belgian Army of a half million would likely fall before Hitler’s million-strong Wehrmacht.

  Saturday dawned as clear and bright as Friday. Most of the day, Brussels experienced few effects of the war. Off to the east, barely visible from their window, huge columns of British soldiers marched east toward the battle. Not too long after the last man and lorry disappeared from sight, Lillian and Henry heard more bombs being dropped from the very direction the soldiers marched.

  “That’s not good,” Lillian said.

  “Not in the least. If only the king had let us come in sooner, we might have had a chance.”

  Darkness fell on Saturday night. Supper arrived. They ate in near silence. By bedtime, they agreed to flip a coin to determine who slept in the bed. Lillian lost. Henry climbed into the bed.

  Lillian lay on the floor near the window. Soon, she heard his easy breathing. She stared up at the ceiling and at the stars that shone through the window. So many stars, worlds spinning around them. She wondered how many of those worlds were at war. Did other civilizations fight each other or had they advanced to such a place where war was passé? She wondered if this world would ever get there.

  It was during these ruminations and through half-lidded eyes that she first noticed the movement above the window. Her eyes popped open. Had she imagined it? No, there it was again. A slight crunch of gravel on the roof. Another swish of clothes. Then an object appeared in the window. Lillian had not figured out what it was before a flash of light blinded her.