A ditch! Only an instant to think. Not enough to ease up on the gas, let alone take evasive action. There was a slight, a very slight, ramp on their side. She hoped that’s what she’d seen. The vehicle went up the slight rise. A brief sensation of flight. A bone crunching landing. The vehicle bounced, bounced again. Mel’s head connected with the roof. Stars wheeled across the horizon inside the car. Her feet briefly left gas and brake. The car slowed abruptly.
She had a vague impression they were at cross purposes with the road. She cranked the wheel to the left. The rear wheels spun—the whole car might have spun—before they gripped the dirt road again. Wheels hooked into the ruts and shot forward again. Road wasn’t a whole lot better than the field.
In her rear view mirror, she saw the field explode into an expanding succession of dirt clouds. That was a little too close. She quickly shut off the headlights and floored it. No reason to shout, come get us.
Chapter Seventeen
Mel didn’t choose to slow down. The vehicle did it all by itself. The engine gave a grinding, gasping cough and then ceased making any sound at all. They rolled forward a few feet and came to a slanted lurching stop that seemed to indicate they’d ended in a ditch.
“Why have we stopped?” Thorhaus’s voice was weak.
“Engine trouble, Herr Oberst. And a ditch,” Mel admitted. She palmed her Luger and took a quick peek at Jack. He was white as a twentieth century sheet. Why…oh right. Woman driver. Tough gig for a forties male.
“There is an aerodrome nearby,” Mel added. “We’ll go for help.”
Mel looked at Jack again, wishing she could tell him what they were saying. It had to be way worse for him and Larsen. She made a slight motion toward the door and opened hers, as an additional nudge. Before she could slip out, Thorhaus spoke.
“What has happened to Dieter, Oberst Trump? He was with me before the sirens started.”
“He was still in the bunker when we carried you out, Herr Oberst. I didn’t see him come out.” It was true.
Jack and Larsen were both out of the car, waiting for her to join them. They had to be as nervous as she was, only in a guy way, as she waited for Thorhaus to respond.
The silence seemed over long. Did he suspect them?
“And my driver?”
Mel tensed. “He was…unable to leave.” Also the truth, mostly.
“He is dead?” He sounded…sad.
“He was down, Herr Oberst. We…the bombs were falling. We barely got clear.” Again a mostly true statement. Mel really didn’t want to outright lie. She was so bad at it.
“Of course. I am grateful…” his voice trailed off.
“We will try to hurry, Herr Oberst,” Mel prompted. She didn’t want to have to whack him again. And it was better, if someone came along, for him to think they were good German soldiers.
“Will you be all right?” Mel had to ask.
He seemed to rouse himself. “Of course.” A pause. “You should hurry.”
Mel felt him staring at her, was he willing her to look at him? She felt time ripple softly past her again.
Outside Jack cleared his throat.
“Yes, Herr Oberst.” Mel gave an awkward, seated sort of salute, then scrambled out. Just before she turned to leave, she gave into the impulse to glance his direction, one she couldn’t seem to fight. Thorhaus was a shadowy figure in the rear, but she felt him trying to pierce the dark of the night and see her. Not that he knew she was she. At least she hoped he didn’t. She turned away and followed Jack and Larsen down the road and out of his sight.
* * * * *
Kass stirred as the truck took a ponderous and jolting course toward the aerodrome. He hadn’t been ordered there and was a bit uneasy about deviating from the plan, but it was a miserably cold night. His men were doing the job as ordered, pressing slowly through the countryside in the direction of the compound and aerodrome. They had some dogs, too few for the job, but all they had. The jaws of the trap were tightening. His men knew they’d pay a heavy penalty if anything larger than a squirrel got past them tonight.
Their headlights were hooded to comply with the blackout, though it seemed pointless with the horizon lit up like a cabaret show. The road had many twists and turns, adding to the difficulty for his driver, but Kass didn’t care.
He’d brought a squad of loyal men with him, in hopes of encountering the underground. If he could impress Herr Ullstein…
The truck swerved and almost left the road. The driver managed to straighten it, but he looked shaken.
“If I could slow down, Herr Leutnant. It is most difficult to see.”
It was true that the bright horizon made the shadows deep. He had no desire to die or be injured in an accident. He gave permission.
The next blind turn, they almost hit a truck coming the other direction. Their truck swerved to the right, that one to the left. They passed each other so closely, Kass thought he saw the whites of the other driver’s eyes.
Something else about that driver made him uneasy. Something…
“Halt!” He twisted and looked back, but the other truck had already rounded the corner. “Turn around!”
“I cannot. There is nowhere to turn a truck this size, Herr—”
“Out, out!” Kass leapt out and ran back to the corner, pulling his service revolver free of the holster. “With me! Come with me!”
His men leapt out the back and ran after him. As soon as they rounded the corner, Kass saw the other truck parked crookedly across the road, the doors hanging open. Kass halted, holding his hand up to halt his men. It had to be the underground. This was his chance. But…
Were they watching, waiting in the shadows? Or fleeing like the dogs they were?
He signaled his patrol to divide and check the truck while he visually examined the surrounding terrain.
His men approached the truck silently. Not that it mattered with the sound of distant explosions covering up any stealthy sounds the enemy might be making. The leader of his squad approached, saluting sharply.
“The truck is empty, Herr Leutnant.”
Kass was quiet. His first impulse was pursuit, but which direction? And any direction they fled, it would be into a search line.
“Return to the truck,” he ordered.
They marched back around the corner and—found the hood of the truck ominously raised.
“See if it will still start,” Kass ordered, trying to control his rage. These upstart French would pay a heavy price for this night’s work.
The driver tried the starter…and nothing happened.
“We are not that far from the aerodrome, Herr Leutnant,” one of the men ventured to point out. “The road should be only a few meters ahead.”
Kass sighed, knowing none of them would see it. He hated walking. He particularly hated walking in the dark.
“Stay alert and let’s move out.” Kass nodded to the one who’d spoke.
His squad formed up automatically. They were used to walking. He fell in at the rear.
When this night’s work was finished, the first person he’d be talking to would be the priest. And this time, no one would stop him.
* * * * *
Jack called a brief halt several hundred yards into the woods. Overhead, the sound of the bombers was beginning to fade into the distance, or so it seemed. Mel stared up, wishing they were on one of them. The Luftwaffe still buzzed about, but it was hard to tell how the air battle had gone. The occasional flash of weapons fire gave the impression of a dry thunderstorm and, while it helped cover any noise they were making, it also disguised hostile noise.
“I can’t see anything,” Jack said, his voice a thread of sound in the night. “The fires are messing with my night vision.”
His words triggered an aha moment. Mel pulled the binoculars out from under her coat. Were they…the tips of her fingers found the switch that turned them on. Now if they still had battery power…she raised them to her eyes.
Night vision binocula
rs. Dang. There it was, that neon green night. At least it was a change from the black night—though not nearly enough of a change to satisfy. She took care not to raise them above the tree line.
The ramifications were, of course, huge, but no time now to ponder them. At least she, who needed them, had them and not the Germans…but that could change at any moment. A pity they didn’t have a self-destruct button, like the chip in her tush.
“We’ve got a bogey about one hundred yards, around eleven o’clock, maybe eleven-fifteen,” Mel murmured. She’d never been that good with her o’clocks. She continued her scan. “Another at two-ish o’clock.”
She lowered the glasses and sensed, rather than saw, scrutiny by both men. “You can look if you don’t believe me.”
“Now you’re seeing in the dark?” Larsen asked. “Who are you? What are you? What are those?”
She almost said, your worst nightmare, but he wouldn’t get it so why bother? She decided to answer the one question she sort of could.
“These are what the RAF was trying to blow up. We keep these out of German hands at all costs.” She looked at Jack, then at Larsen. “They are more important than we are.”
It sounded important and mysterious, and it had the added benefit of being the truth. It made a nice change. She was better at the truth. Gran had made sure of that.
“Uh,” Jack said, “isn’t the airfield that way?”
Mel knew which direction that was and looked—and saw the horizon ahead ominously lit. Stupid. She’d been stupid and arrogant. And stupid. Mouy had mentioned the aerodrome. Of course the RAF would target it. They’d know almost exactly where it was, once the compound was painted. Why not take out the airfield at the same time?
“Well, bang goes our ride.” She looked at Jack. “I’m sorry. This is my fault. We could have been well out of the area by now.”
“We might still be able to get something in the air,” Jack said. “I don’t think going back is an option anyway.”
Mel didn’t need the night vision glasses to see what he meant. She could hear the crash of bodies through the undergrowth maybe half a mile behind them, not to mention the shout of orders at almost every o’clock and the occasional barking dog. All of which were getting closer.
“Okay.” Mel did a survey with the goggles. “It’s clear in a straight line, this direction.”
* * * * *
Thorhaus waited for what seemed a long time after the three men left. As time passed, he began to feel better, though his head ached. He rubbed the back of his neck, wondering how he’d been injured. His last memory was starting down into the bunker. Then the air raid sirens going off and nothing more.
It was miserably cold. He’d be better off moving, he decided, and climbed out. He could see the lightened horizon back in the direction of the compound. And he’d worried that his excellent dinner would be his last meal—if anyone found out about Dieter showing him what they were working on. It would be a miracle if anyone came out of there alive. It was a miracle he’d made it out.
Off to the west, toward the aerodrome, there was also a glow. So the bombers had hit there, too. It was still the closest place of refuge and more appealing than returning to the compound. And it sounded like the bombers were retreating. He could hear dogs barking now, off toward the north and shouts. A search? Was more going on than a bombing raid?
He pulled his coat tighter, got his bearings, and plunged into the woods. The road might be easier, but it was longer…
* * * * *
Kass and his patrol walked silently along both sides of the narrow road, scanning from side to side. Kass walked down the middle, still in the rear. If the underground were waiting and watching in the dark, he didn’t want to make it easy for them. He didn’t have to tell his men to be quiet. They were nervous and jumpy as they marched toward the ominously lit horizon. His ears told him the bombers were retreating, and he hoped the damage wasn’t as extensive as it looked. With the heavy rumble fading into the night, he could better hear the sounds of the search patrols moving through the area. They could wait for a patrol to find them, but he’d rather be in a well-lit place before such a meeting.
They had to be close to the aerodrome. It wasn’t that far from the road, though this road did wind in and out. A French road, poorly constructed, he thought with disgust.
His gripped his revolver and he looked from side to side as they pressed forward. Every few steps, he glanced back.
Was that a flicker of movement in the hedge to his left? He stopped and had to stop himself calling out to his men and alerting the watcher. Before he could decide what to do, his men had passed silently around a bend in the dirt road.
His first impulse was to hurry after them. He didn’t like the dense darkness or the isolation. But what if it were the underground? He’d miss his chance to capture them himself. He slipped into the shadow of a large hedge, hardly breathing as he strained to hear anything that would confirm his impression of someone there. A twig snapped, still to his left, but further away than he’d expected.
He hesitated. There was still time to catch up with his patrol, though why the idiots hadn’t noticed he wasn’t with them…
If they were too stupid to look back, they deserved to miss out on the glory of the capture. With one last look back at the road, he eased through the brush in the direction of the sound.
Only a slight rustle reached his ears. And the Oberst thought he couldn’t hunt…
* * * * *
“We won’t be flying out of here,” Jack said. He could taste it. He could smell it in the smoke that the wind brought into their faces. He could hear it as the sound of the hunt drew steadily nearer. And he could see what was left of the aerodrome.
From where they crouched, it seemed like more than the airfield was ablaze. Deep in the flames, he saw the skeleton of a hanger until it collapsed. Fuel trucks and planes added to the inferno. As they watched, the control tower swayed and then crashed to the ground, sending dark figures running in all directions. A flaming figure burst out of a building and ran screaming for several feet before falling to the ground.
Mel turned away. In the flickering glow, Jack saw her clenched fists. He realized his hands were in fists, too.
“We need to move,” he said. “Someone might spot us.” It sounded like the search was closing from the north. Maybe they could circle the aerodrome and strike out for the coast again.
The other two followed him deeper into the undergrowth that bordered the field. He struck due east for several yards and then turned south, but they hadn’t gone far when it became apparent that searchers were moving in from that direction, too. The Germans hadn’t known everything about tonight’s operation, but it seemed obvious they’d known something.
Jack quietly called a halt. Mel and Larsen crouched on either side. They had to know it was over. He knew it was over, but his mind kept searching for an out—not for himself, but for Mel. From what she’d told him, they were still several hours short of her pick up time. It wouldn’t take that long for the searchers to converge on their position.
“Look, Larsen and I can draw them off. You speak German. Once they pass, you mingle with them. In the dark, they won’t know the difference. That should buy you enough time—”
“You’ll be shot as spies.” Mel’s voice sounded odd and flat.
“We’ll get rid of this gear—”
“That won’t be enough.” She was silent for a moment. “You’ll be turned over to the Gestapo. You’ll hold out for a while—but you won’t be able to hold out forever.”
“What could we tell them anyway? Besides, the Geneva Convention—” Larsen began a protest.
“It won’t protect you.” Her voice remained flat but still intense. “You do not want to be questioned by the Gestapo.”
Jack felt a cold chill track down his back. Larsen looked like a scared kid, in the flickering light passing intermittently over his face.
“And what if they don’t ca
pture you? What if they shoot you? Bang, goes my ride.”
“I know what’s at stake. I’ll stay alive until…” he stopped. Larsen must think they were insane.
“Until what? Captain, what’s going on?” Larsen looked at Jack, then at Mel. She almost smiled, or so it seemed.
“There’s no time to explain.” Something about her expression sent a colder chill down his back.
“There’s another way out.” She paused. “There’s a failsafe. If my heart stops—”
“What?” Larsen said.
Jack ignored him. “No.”
“It’s the only way and you know it.”
“What’s the only way…” Larsen tried again.
“That might have been the way it went down before.”
“Before….” Jack sucked in his breath sharply. “You mean, you already…”
“You didn’t tell me much, but you did tell me that.”
Jack felt like he’d been gut punched. She’d died?
“It was the only way then.” A pause. “It’s the only way now.”
The scientist in Jack knew she had a point, but the man didn’t want to admit it. How could he live with her death for sixty years? How had he lived with it?
“I can’t do it.”
“You don’t have to. I arrived fully equipped.”
How could she sound so calm? As if she read his mind, her mouth curved into a wry shadow of a smile.
“I did it once and, oddly enough, it didn’t kill me.”
Jack grabbed her hand and gave a half laugh, half snort. “You’re crazy.”
An odd sort of peace filled him. There’d never been any hope anyway. They weren’t meant to be together. But how to wait sixty years to see her again—
And then they’d have to start all over again.
“You’re both crazy,” Larsen said. “And we need to move—”
“Move where?” Mel looked
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