Black Cross

by Greg Iles

  McConnell looked up, “I know what you’re telling me. Just give me a minute, please. These are big numbers. Total milliliters of air . . . oxygen percentages total and consumed . . . that’s per kilogram per minute . . . a pediatric figure . . . Christ . . . mmm . . . okay. I’ve got it.”

  “How many?”

  McConnell set down his pencil. “Assuming forty-five women and fifty children, the available oxygen would last one hundred and two minutes. That’s only a guess, but it’s a solid guess.”

  “One hour and forty-two minutes,” Anna said. “Is that long enough?”

  “Frankly, I don’t think so. Smith’s scientists planned this attack with only eight cylinders. That suggests a gas on the order of Sarin, which I’m certain it was copied from. If the British gas works, lethal amounts could persist for as long as four hours, maybe even longer.”

  “Four hours is too long,” said Stern. “SS reinforcements could arrive from somewhere else.”

  McConnell considered this factor. SS reinforcements could be as deadly as Sarin if they weren’t killed by the gas. “We must pare the numbers down to allow for two hours of oxygen. No less.”

  “Numbers?” Stern echoed. “You’re talking about people!”

  “I know that,” McConnell said evenly. “The one hundred and twenty-five I already excluded from the equation are people too. They’re just not Jews.”

  For once, Stern did not lose his self-control when faced with an unpalatable truth. “What’s wrong with the fucking Nazis all of a sudden?” he grumbled. “They usually build everything twice as big as anyone else.”

  “The gases Brandt tests in the E-Block are the most toxic in the world,” Anna explained. “Sometimes they run several tests in a day. The E-Block was designed small enough to be cleaned thoroughly and quickly with steam and detergents. The whole process is automated.”

  “It’s just a bigger version of the Bubble back in my lab,” said McConnell.

  “Bubble?”

  “I remember,” said Stern. “Except you use rats. They use people. So tell me, how many people can survive for two hours in Brandt’s bubble?”

  “You want to save all the children or all the women?”

  “My God,” Anna whispered. “You have no right to do this.”

  “You’re right,” McConnell agreed. “But I am doing it.”

  “Kinder,” said Stern. “Save the children.”

  “But the children must have someone to take care of them when they come out,” Anna argued.

  “Women use more air,” said Stern. “There’ll be enough women left to take care of the children. Take out women.”

  McConnell carefully recalculated his equation. “If you took out ten women,” he said, “the oxygen would last one hundred and nineteen minutes. Almost exactly two hours. If you want my opinion, I’d take out twenty women. It’s horrible, I know, but by trying to save too many we could kill them all.”

  “Wait!” Anna cut in. “What about an oxygen bottle?”

  McConnell’s eyebrows went up. “Oxygen bottle? Depending on the type, it could make a significant difference.”

  “There are several large tanks in the factory, in case of accidents. I can’t get access to those, but in the hospital we have two portable bottles. I don’t know the exact amount of oxygen in them, but I think I could steal one. The other is being used on a pneumonia case, an SS private. It would be missed immediately.”

  Stern was nodding excitedly. “At least that would let us save all the women, yes? Maybe even the few men—”

  McConnell held up his hand. “There’s another concern here. These time limits I’m giving you are for total oxygen depletion. That means death. Before that there would be episodes of hysteria, fainting, possibly some violence. You’re talking about terrified women and children packed inside a sealed chamber, probably without lights. They could be tearing out each other’s eyes after an hour, trampling the children, God knows what. You understand?”

  “You’re saying don’t increase the numbers at all?”

  “I’m saying we should count that oxygen bottle as a reserve. There’s no guarantee we can even get it into the E-Block. On top of that, these people may have to stay inside the chamber three or four hours before it’s safe to come out.”

  Stern nodded in resignation.

  “Can we even get the E-Block open?” McConnell asked.

  “It’s always open,” Anna said. “Who would want to go inside it?”

  “Point taken. Okay, Jonas, I think you should go back in right now, tonight. You’ve got about three hours of darkness left. Talk to your father, explain the situation, tell him to start slipping people into the E-Block just before dawn. That’s when we’ll attack.”

  Stern laughed. “Doctor, you may know chemistry, but you know nothing about military tactics.” He sat down at the table and picked up McConnell’s pencil. “What do you think is going to happen after this attack of ours? Where are these women and children going to go?”

  “Where were they going to go if we saved them all? This isn’t Hollywood, Stern. We can give those people a fighting chance. That’s more than what they have now. Maybe they can make a run for Poland, try to reach the Resistance.”

  “You obviously don’t know that half the Polish resistance groups will kill a Jew as quickly as a Nazi will.”

  “Goddamn it, Stern—”

  “No, you’re right, Doctor. They’ll have to try for Poland. But they can’t do that in the daylight. Women and children in stolen SS trucks crossing fifty miles of Nazi Germany by day? You’re crazy! I don’t fancy trying to find our British submarine in the daylight myself. Also, if I sneak back into the camp tonight—which might not be so easy, considering what Fräulein Kaas just did there—I’ve got damn little time to convince my father or those women to condemn their friends to death, then sneak out of the camp, up the hill, and send down the gas.” Stern tossed the pencil on the table. “No, it’s got to be tomorrow night.” He turned to Anna. “What time is the final roll call?”

  “Seven p.m.”

  “Then we’ll attack at eight. The confusion will be much greater for the SS at night, and we’ll have hours of darkness to escape.”

  “You realize that tomorrow night will be the fourth night we’ve been here,” McConnell reminded him. “If we don’t make it to the submarine by dawn the next day, it won’t be there.”

  “We’ll make it.”

  “And what about the gas? It could be degrading into harmless chemicals right now. And the reprisals. What if they shoot ten more people tomorrow? What about your—”

  Stern slapped the table. “Shut up, goddamn you! I’ve made my decision. If you’d ever seen unarmed people hunted down by troops in the daylight, you’d know why.”

  McConnell hesitated, but reluctantly nodded his assent. “We’ll just have to pray Schörner doesn’t close the net on us by tomorrow night,” he said. “But what about Anna? She can’t go back into Totenhausen after what she did tonight.”

  Anna closed her eyes. “If I don’t, they’ll know something’s wrong.”

  “They already know! They must. You killed Miklos and kept them from interrogating him.”

  “Maybe they don’t know that,” said Stern. “The SS had already roughed him up. She told the guard Wojik’s heart was weak. Maybe they think he just died.”

  “I’ve also got to get that oxygen bottle into the E-Block,” Anna reminded them.

  McConnell started to argue further, but she cut him off by asking Stern a question. “Do you think your father will consent to go into the E-Block?”

  “With the way the numbers have worked out, I very much doubt it.” Stern stood up and leaned against the stove for warmth.

  “You must persuade him. Perhaps he would agree to lead the women and children to Poland?”

  “He might. I’ve got all day tomorrow to think of something.” Stern snapped his fingers. “There is one thing I can do tonight, though.” He walked around the tabl
e and disappeared through the cellar door.

  Anna took McConnell’s hand under the table and squeezed it. “You are a strange man,” she said.

  Stern came back up the stairs carrying his leather bag.

  “What’s that for?” asked McConnell.

  “The two cylinders we were going to put in the SS bomb shelter. If we’re going back to the original plan, we need every ounce of gas we can get for the attack, yes? I’m going to drag those two cylinders as close as possible to the camp fence. With the plastic explosive and time pencil fuses from Achnacarry, I can set charges on the cylinder heads and time them to coincide with the attack. Eight o’clock.”

  “I completely forgot!” said McConnell, feeling like an idiot. “You’re right. We’re going to need the highest saturation we can get at ground level. I’ll come with you.”

  Anna squeezed his hand painfully under the table.

  “No point in both of us risking capture,” said Stern, slinging the strap of the bag over his shoulder. “I can drag the cylinders myself.”

  McConnell thought about it, then acquiesced. “Just don’t get caught,” he said. “I couldn’t climb that pylon in a week.”

  Stern grinned, surprising both Anna and McConnell. “You could if you had to, Doctor. But don’t worry about it. We’re due some good luck.” He picked up his Schmeisser and moved toward the foyer. At the door, he looked back and caught McConnell’s eye, beckoning him to follow.

  “What is it?” McConnell asked, pulling the front door closed after them.

  “The SS may come for her,” Stern said. “Frankly, it worries me that they haven’t come yet.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying you should wait for me in the cellar. She should stay upstairs. If they come, and she goes with them voluntarily, they might not search the house.”

  “I’m not an idiot, Stern.”

  “I know that. But you . . . her. I’m not blind. All I’m saying is that now is not the time.”

  It irritated McConnell that Stern had seen through him so easily. “There may not be any other time,” he said.

  Stern shrugged. “Do what you have to. But if they do come here—and they don’t find you—take the spikes from the cellar, climb the hill, and go up that pylon. When you get to the top, tie yourself on with your toggle rope and wait for me as long as you can.” He laughed. “McShane was right about those ropes after all, wasn’t he? Anyway, you’ll be in the treetops, but you’ll be able to see the camp road. If it looks like Schörner’s men are coming up the hill for you, send down the gas. It’s set up so a child could do it. After you’ve done it, forget about me, forget about her, and try to reach the coast. You just might get out alive.”

  McConnell was shaking his head, but Stern said, “If it comes to that point, Doctor, she and I are dead already.”

  Stern held out his hand for the first time since McConnell had known him.

  McConnell took it.

  “It’s less than twenty-four hours,” Stern said, squeezing his hand. “What can happen in a day?”

  37

  He’s gone,” McConnell said, shutting the door against the cold.

  “What did he say?” Anna asked from the table.

  Without Stern’s manic energy there to distract him, McConnell noticed for the first time the tremendous toll all of it was taking on Anna. Her skin, especially around the eyes, had completely lost the pallor of that first night, and taken on the shiny darkness of overripe fruit.

  “He’s setting the two cylinders for eight tomorrow night. He’ll send the rest down at the same time. He said I should wait for him in the cellar, and you should wait upstairs.”

  She looked surprised. “I assumed he would tell you to wait on the hill, in case he was caught and you had to carry out the attack tonight.”

  “He doesn’t plan on getting caught.”

  “What do you think?”

  McConnell sat down opposite her. “To tell you the truth, I don’t even know if I could climb the pylon. They didn’t train me for that.”

  “You have to climb it to release the gas?”

  “According to Stern.”

  “I could go with you,” Anna suggested. “Help you. There’s no reason for me to stay here.”

  “There no reason for you to risk going with me. Besides, you . . . you look done in. You really should try to sleep.”

  Anna folded her arms together as if she were cold. “I cannot sleep. I am exhausted, but I don’t want to drop off. Schörner could send someone for me at any moment.”

  McConnell weighed the dangers of remaining at the cottage against trying to reach the pylon on the hill. “Anna, has anyone suspected you before now?”

  “I don’t think so. But it won’t take Schörner long to put it together.” She brushed her hair back from her face. “If they come for me—if Sergeant Sturm comes for me—I think I would kill myself rather than be taken.”

  McConnell looked into her eyes. She was not only exhausted, she was absolutely terrified. He felt stupid for not seeing it earlier. And she meant what she said about suicide.

  “Look, I’m not leaving you behind,” he said. “I’m taking you out with us.”

  “Stern said the British wouldn’t let you take anyone out.”

  McConnell tensed at the sound of an engine on the Dornow road, but the vehicle didn’t turn into the lane that led to the cottage. “How long have you been helping SOE?” he asked.

  “Six or seven months.”

  “To hell with what the British say. I’m taking you out. Smith owes you that.”

  She kept looking at him. In her eyes he sensed, or hoped he sensed, some flicker of hope for herself. He could tell that she had been forcing herself not to think about what would happen after the attack. But now he had offered her a chance, and he saw that she wanted it.

  “What about the hill?” she asked.

  “To hell with it. I’d rather wait here.”

  “In the cellar?”

  He slid his hand across the table. “With you.”

  She lowered her eyes, but did not take his hand. “Stern told me you’re married.”

  “I am.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me last night?”

  “I don’t know. You didn’t ask.”

  She looked up at him again. “What is it you want, Doctor?”

  “You.”

  “I know you want me. Why do you want me?”

  He searched for some reasonable answer, but could not find one.

  “Is it because you might die tomorrow? Or even tonight?”

  He considered this. “I don’t think so.”

  “Why, then?”

  “Because I love you.”

  “Love me?” Anna’s lips curled with a trace of irony. “You don’t even know me.”

  “I know you.”

  “You’re mad.”

  “No argument.”

  “Don’t say you love me, Doctor. Not to persuade me to give my body to you. You don’t have to say that.”

  “I don’t say it easily. You’re the second woman I’ve said that to in my entire life.”

  Her eyes searched his face for deception.

  “I know a lot of men say it,” McConnell went on, “just for that reason. It’s the easiest way to get a woman to let you have your way with her, I’m sure.”

  “And you say it now.”

  His eyes didn’t waver. “Yes.”

  “You have a wife.”

  “Yes.”

  “You don’t love her?”

  “I do love her.”

  “But she isn’t here to comfort you. And I am.”

  McConnell watched the way her eyes changed when she talked. They seemed as much a part of her communication as her words, amplifying each question or statement with fine yet uncertain shades of meaning. “She hasn’t been in England to comfort me for the past four years, either,” he said. “I made it fine without any . . . comfort.”

  “There
were temptations there? In England?”

  “Enough.”

  “But you ignored them? You were noble?”

  “Trying to be, I guess.”

  “But you are not feeling noble now.”

  He sighed wearily. “Look, is this a test or what? I certainly don’t feel noble about this. I feel like I’ve been dropped straight into hell or the closest thing to it. A week ago I was a pacifist and a loyal husband. Tonight I’m planning mass murder and contemplating adultery.” He laughed then, rather strangely. “Maybe I’m working my way up in stages. First adultery, then a little assault and battery to get warmed up . . . then I’ll go for the really big time. Poison gas.”

  “Stop it,” she said.

  “Look, let’s just forget it.” He stood up. “Maybe we should go up the hill.”

  “What is your wife’s name, Doctor?”

  “What?”

  “What is your wife’s name?”

  “Susan.”

  “You have children with her?”

  “No. None yet.”

  Anna stood up slowly. Her left hand went to the button at her throat. She unfastened it and moved to the next button. “Then,” she said deliberately, “with all humility I ask Susan’s forgiveness for what I am about to do.”

  He watched the white blouse open, revealing scalloped collarbones, then her breasts. “Why are you saying that?”

  She dropped the blouse from her shoulders. “Because she is your wife. Because she is here with us now, and there’s no use pretending she isn’t.” Anna unfastened her skirt. It brushed the floor with a soft rustle. She took a step forward.

  He could see the pulse at the base of her throat.

  “I won’t be ashamed for this later,” she said, her voice trembling. “In spite of what we are about to do. This is what it is, but I refuse to be ashamed.”

  He held his hands in front of him, as if to stop her. “Are you sure you want this?”

  “Yes.”

  “Because you might die tomorrow?”

  “Partly.”

  He winced. In spite of the impossibility of it all, he had hoped for something more. “Is it because of Franz Perlman? The man you loved?”