by Renee Ryan
God had remained silent.
By the age of nine, Katia had stopped praying altogether. She hadn’t spoken to her Heavenly Father since.
With the hollowness returning to her stomach, Katia curled her hand into a tight fist. Never again would she count on an absent God who remained silent at her most desperate hours. Katarina Kerensky would do whatever it took to ensure her mother was spared the same fate as her father.
“You’re upset by your mother’s choice of husbands.”
The unexpected softness in Reiter’s voice had Katia shaking her head to keep her mind focused. She could handle his suspicion and distrust. She could even handle his subtle attempts at seduction—those were all part of the game they played—but this…this…understanding? It unnerved her.
“My thoughts on the matter are of no consequence.” She spoke in a detached, unemotional tone. “The choice is hers to make.”
“Nevertheless, you would have chosen differently for her.”
There was that hideous compassion again. Open, honest and very real. Another game? A trap? “We are through with this topic. My mother has nothing to do with our current mission.”
He opened his mouth to speak then shut it again and nodded. “Perhaps you’re right. However, Hermann Schmidt—”
“Is my problem.”
The spy’s expression changed with the speed of a torpedo bearing down on its target. No longer relaxed, eyes hard, he sat coiled like a snake ready to strike. “Let’s talk straight, shall we?”
“And here I thought we were.”
Ignoring the interruption, he rose and moved to tower over her. “I’ve been given the task of stopping a Nazi naval secret weapon. Now pay close attention, Katarina. Imagine my shock when I meet my German contact at the assigned time, and a high-ranking officer in the Kriegsmarine shows up, as well.”
“Mere coincidence, nothing more.”
A dangerous glint flashed in his eyes. Katia tried not to squirm under his scrutiny. She wanted to stand, to move away from his ugly suspicion, but he blocked the path by crouching down in front of her.
“Coincidence?” He contained his energy well, but she knew he could strike at any moment. “There is no such thing.”
She would not show fear. She would not draw away. She would go on the offensive instead. “Aren’t you over-reacting just a bit?”
“I call it being cautious.” He leaned forward, stealing nearly all of the space between them. “Will your mother’s fiancé interfere with our mission?”
She knew he was crowding her on purpose, trying to intimidate her with his superior size.
The game was all about power now. This was a game she knew how to play, and how to win. “Choose whatever you wish to believe. I admit I am unhappy about my mother’s impending marriage, but you must trust that I will handle Hermann Schmidt directly.”
With a snort of disgust, he pushed away from her and returned to the chair he’d occupied a few moments earlier.
She started to explain, to clarify the situation for them both, but he cut her off with a hand in the air. “Is he one of your informants?”
It was an understandable question, one he had every right to ask. One she would answer truthfully.
“No.” She held the pause for effect, gaining control from his surprised expression. “Hermann is simply my mother’s fiancé, a man who hates the Communists as much as she does.”
Reiter slowly sat back and steepled his fingers. “I see.”
Unfortunately, Katia was afraid this man saw far too much. Would he prove more of a problem than Hermann Schmidt? Katia could barely contain a wave of terror at the thought.
But no matter how afraid she was, she would not give in to any outward sign of vulnerability.
Not until she was alone.
Blinking away her emotions, she lifted her chin. “Finish with your questions, Herr Reiter. You’re fortunate. I find I am in an obliging mood, after all.”
A single eyebrow lifted. “How do you plan to ‘handle’ your mother and her fiancé?”
In an attempt to gather her thoughts, she looked at the open window on her left. A light breeze joined in a ghostly waltz with the sheer curtains. The scent of coming snow shivered in the air, promising a thin coat of white by morning.
“I’ll know more when I meet them tomorrow morning.” Some unnamed emotion rose up. She shoved it back with a hard swallow. “They are picking me up at 0900.”
“That’s going to be a problem.”
“Not if—”
“I go the rest of the way alone.” The lethal expression in Reiter’s eyes was enough to make even the bravest woman quiver in fear. She held his stare anyway, knowing that he was waiting to see what impact his declaration would have. She waited to see how long he would wait for her.
Games inside games.
The deceit and smoky undercurrents were growing with every tick of the clock.
Another minute passed.
And then another.
At last, Reiter broke the silence. “Tell me where the blueprints are hidden and I’ll be out of your life forever.”
“That won’t be possible. You need me with you.”
“You won’t be available. You have a future stepfather to entertain.” His voice was very soft. Very dangerous.
“You don’t understand,” she insisted. “You need me.”
His eyes narrowed. “Why you?”
She didn’t move, didn’t breathe, afraid if she did she would break down and blurt out too much information. Keeping her secret to herself kept her and her mother alive. “Since I’m the one with the intelligence, you have no other choice than to rely on me.”
His eyebrows slammed together. “In other words, if I don’t allow you to come along, you won’t tell me where the plans are hidden.”
“That about sums it up.”
“Are you trying to blackmail me, Kerensky?”
“Yes.” But he didn’t need to know why.
“An honest answer at last,” he said, an odd hint of approval in his gaze.
His reaction threw her off balance. Again. What was she supposed to do with him now?
“Go ahead.” He gestured for her to continue speaking. “You might as well tell me the rest, the part you’re intentionally hiding from me.”
She pretended to misunderstand him. “I don’t know what you mean.”
He simply looked at her.
She held perfectly still, dreading the obvious question to come. Was she a Jew?
But he surprised her once again.
“Tell me, Katarina,” he drawled. “Why don’t the British trust you?”
Chapter Five
Three. Four.
Five.
Jack counted each emotion that flashed in Kerensky’s eyes. Up to this point, she’d proven herself inventive, bold and cunning, all necessary qualities for a spy. But in the soft moonlight, with so many emotions running across her face, she looked fragile, and surprisingly vulnerable.
In spite of Jack’s distrust, a cold chill of fear for her took hold. If she were working for the British, which all the signs indicated, then she was playing a dangerous game with her life.
Why take the risk?
Jack had personally witnessed the hideous forms of torture the SS used to get answers. He’d watched in steely silence as the toughest men were utterly destroyed under the perfect blend of physical pressure and mental interrogation. The experience had cost him his soul. A reality he’d long since accepted, or at least lived with as atonement for his sins.
But now, as weariness kicked in, he didn’t know if he could watch this woman suffer the Nazis’ ruthless brand of interrogation. Unless, of course, she was working against him. Even then…he wasn’t so sure.
The woman confused him. She made him want to return to simpler times, when the love of a sovereign God was concrete in his mind. When Jack had dealt with situations beyond his control by tapping into the knowledge that the Lord was bigger than any circum
stance man could create.
But that was a long time ago, a lifetime ago.
Jack knew better than to take anything for granted, especially the actions of a trained professional.
Still on his guard, he gave Kerensky a look a few degrees short of friendly and continued waiting her out.
One beat, two beats, three.
At last, she broke. “The British don’t,” she began as she sucked in a harsh breath, “they don’t trust me?”
Her reaction pleased him. The bitter resentment in her tone meant he’d actually shocked her. He had the upper hand now. Though he doubted she would accept the shift in power for long.
In his years as a spy, he’d never met a woman who could hold her own against him. Before Kerensky. Her determination was as forceful as his. For that alone, his gut told him to take a chance and trust her to do her share in the mission.
He restrained himself.
Until he discovered if she was an ally or a shrewd double agent he would not relax his guard.
“Look, Kerensky.” He pushed to his feet. “Let’s rid ourselves of this ridiculous power struggle and get on with the business at hand.”
In response to his frankness, her composure slipped just a bit, but not enough to give Jack a sense of her real motives.
She was good. Very, very good.
With practiced grace, she stood and then paced through the small, stylishly furnished room. “If what you say is true and the British don’t trust me, then it must be because they know about my…my mistake.”
Her voice hitched. Part of her act? Probably. “What sort of mistake?” he asked.
Before responding, she roamed through a set of double doors with a liquid elegance that spoke of her stage training. Jack followed her, taking special note of how she gained immediate confidence once she had the physical barrier of an antique wooden table between them.
“It’s not what you think,” she said.
He willed himself to remain calm. In his line of work, losing his temper got a man killed faster than bullets. “It never is.”
“You don’t have to be snide. The information I gave MI6 was correct.” She dropped her gaze to the table, drew a path of circles with her fingernail. “At least, it was at the time I sent it.”
“Of course.”
She slapped her palms on the table and leaned forward. “Your attitude is not helping matters.”
“Nor is your penchant for withholding valuable pieces of information.”
Head held high, she marched around the table and stopped long enough to let out a soft sniff of disapproval before she continued past him.
Keeping the woman in his sight, Jack trailed after her as she went back into the adjoining room and turned to face him. Folding his arms across his chest, he leaned against the doorjamb.
Neither said a word, each silently assessing the other. Jack considered the tactical scenarios and possible outcomes. The only wrong questions were the ones he didn’t ask. “My patience is wearing thin. What mistake did you make, Katarina?”
Regardless of the flicker of uncertainty in her eyes, she held his gaze. Brave woman.
“Karl Doenitz moved his headquarters this morning.”
Jack dragged a hand through his hair and resisted the urge to let loose the string of obscenities that came to mind. “How very inconvenient for us all. Except, of course, for the Nazis.”
“Now you’re being paranoid.”
“I was trained to be paranoid.” He drilled her with a hard glare. “And I’m very good at my job.”
She sighed. “I realize this sounds bad, but Karl Doenitz is still in Wilhelmshaven. He’s moved from Marinestation to Sengwarden.”
Jack caught the quick, guilty glance from under her lowered lashes. “Which means you don’t know where the plans are any longer.”
“I—”
“This trip to Hamburg has been a waste,” he said, more to himself than her. “For nothing more than countless hours of…games.”
“Oh, I promise you, this is no game. I know where the plans are. It’s just—” She broke off and looked away from him.
“It’s…just?” he prompted with what he considered heroic patience.
Apparently, he could control the work, the decisions, even the risks. He could not, however, control this…woman.
“The plans are locked in a newly built cabinet. My key will only open the old one.”
“That’s it?” Jack had to resist the urge to laugh in relief. “That was your mistake?”
He’d dealt with worse. Much worse. Missions were always more complicated than they first appeared on paper. Real life had intricacies that tended to create a powder keg of unexpected problems.
“Are you just going to stand there staring at me?” she demanded. “Didn’t you hear what I said?”
“I heard. You gave the British outdated information.”
“I gave them wrong information. I never get it wrong. Never.”
“Until now.”
She inclined her head slightly, her expression giving nothing away. “Until now.”
“So we make a new plan.”
He didn’t add that this was just the sort of tangle that had first led him into the heart of Germany two years before—the type of unexpected twist that ruled his every move. Disorder was so much a part of who he’d become, he’d long since accepted the realities of living without certainty. He didn’t especially like the ambiguity of never knowing the outcome of a mission or when the next twist would come, but he bore the pressure with steely grit.
He had no other choice.
“Make a new plan,” she repeated. “It’s that simple for you?”
“Nothing is ever simple.”
In fact, the possibilities were endless, but Jack was exceptionally skilled at finding the perfect solution inside the less perfect ones. “Tell me exactly where the plans are and I’ll come up with an idea. Or better yet, get me some paper and something to write with. I think better with a pen in my hand.”
She sank into a chair with an uncharacteristic lack of grace. “There is one more complication you should know about.”
Jack felt like he was free-falling without a parachute. His tight control over dangerous emotions was slipping, and that made him furious. Nothing shook him, and no one caught him by surprise. Even when the real Friedrich Reiter had come to kill him, Jack had kept his wits about him enough to prevail in the deadly clash. There’d been no time for prayer, no begging the Lord for assistance, just reflex.
And now…here…with this woman…he was in another situation where his control was being tested.
Enough. The feminine manipulation ended now. “Let’s have it,” he said, pure reflex guiding his words. “All of it.”
“As you wish.” Narrowing those glorious eyes of hers, she jumped up and planted a hand on her hip. “The admiral keeps the key to the cabinet on a ring he carries with him at all times, except when he sleeps. Whereby, he sets the key chain on the nightstand by his bed.”
The roll in Jack’s gut came fast and slick, surprising him. He didn’t take the time to analyze the emotion behind the sensation. “And you know this how?”
Taking three steps toward him, Kerensky pursed her lips and patted his cheek. “That’s my business, darling.”
He grabbed her wrist. “Not if it’s going to endanger my life.”
“Which it won’t.” She dropped a withering glare to his hand, waited until he released her. “Now, back to what I was saying. Since I alone know where the key is located, all I have to do is sneak into the room while Doenitz is asleep and—”
“No.” Whoever went in that building had to respond instantly if discovered. Jack was the trained killer. She was simply a mole who gathered information. He was the obvious person for the job. “I will break into the admiral’s private quarters.”
Her smile turned ruthless, deadly. The change in her put him instantly at ease. They were finally playing on his level.
He sm
iled back at her, his grin just as ruthless, just as deadly as hers.
She appeared unfazed.
“Here’s the situation, Herr Reiter, and do try to pay close attention. There are only two ways into Admiral Doenitz’s quarters. Through the front door or through a small window into his bedroom.”
The thrill of finding a solution had Jack rubbing his hands together. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”
“The window leading into the admiral’s room is small.” She dropped her gaze down to his shoes and back up again. “Far too small for you.”
“Then I’ll go through the front door.”
She was shaking her head before he finished speaking. “To get through the front door you would have to pass through six separate stations, with two guards each. They rotate from post to post on twenty-minute intervals, none of which are synchronized. Translation, that’s a minimum of six men you would have to bypass at any given time.”
“It’s what I do.”
She flicked a speck of dust off her shoulder. “Needlessly risky. Especially when I can get through the window and back out again in less time than a single rotation.”
Jack’s mind filed through ideas, discarded most, kept a few, recalculated.
“I’ll ultimately have to get past those guards the night I go in for the plans,” he said.
More thoughts shifted. New ideas crystallized, further calculations were made.
“I’ll just take the key and the plans all at once.” He blessed her with a look of censure, testing her with his words as much as with his attitude. “Translation: we go to Wilhelmshaven tonight and finish the job in one stroke.”
She jabbed her finger at his chest. “You’re thinking too much like a man. Go in, blow things up, deal with the risks tomorrow.”
“Not even close.” If anything, Jack overworked his solutions before acting on them. It was the one shred of humanity he had left.
“Two nights from now Karl Doenitz will be in Hamburg, at a party given for him by my mother.” She raised her hand to keep him from interrupting. “And before you say it, that also means the key will be with him in Hamburg, as well.”
“Keep talking while you get the paper I asked for.”
She remained exactly where she was. Naturally.
