Dangerous Allies

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Dangerous Allies Page 9

by Renee Ryan


  She was just overly tired this morning. That had to explain her desire to rely on anyone other than herself, especially an invisible God.

  Her mind wasn’t working properly. She was confused over her mistake in the admiral’s private quarters, stunned by her strange reactions to her new partner. Surely that explained her leaning to set aside her disillusionment and put her trust in a silent God.

  The loud knock on the door made her jump. Happy for the interruption, she took a deep breath and checked the time. Her mother and fiancé were a full twenty minutes early for their scheduled outing with Katia.

  Moving back to her dressing table, Katia studied her reflection in the mirror. She looked too haggard, too world-weary for the part she must play this morning.

  Breathing deeply, she took a long, slow blink. The gesture wiped away the creases of worry on her brow. Another blink settled a vacant look into her eyes. A quick sigh, one last shudder, and finally she became the royal princess with little on her mind beyond the superficial. “Much better.”

  She thought she was back in control. Until the minute she opened the front door and the cold wind slapped ice-edged fingers against her face. Forcing a silly smile on her face, Katia braced against the frigid attack and took in the sight of her visitors.

  Dressed in a cashmere coat made in her signature color of soft blue, Elena Kerensky stood arm in arm with her fiancé. Both held themselves proud and precise. But where Elena’s arrogance came from her royal breeding, Schmidt’s haughtiness had a sheen that was equal parts brutality and condescension. On closer inspection, his tailor-made Kriegsmarine overcoat looked like the work of Wilhelm Holters, the premier tailor of the Third Reich.

  Nothing but the best for this Nazi.

  Katia hid her cynicism behind a little sigh of pleasure. “Mother. Hermann. What a lovely surprise. You’re early.”

  “I’m afraid I was the eager one,” Elena said. “I so want you to get to know Hermann better.”

  She lifted an adoring look at her companion and squeezed his arm. Schmidt smiled down at Elena with similar admiration. But Katia thought she recognized a look of cunning flash in his eyes.

  Did he sense Elena’s secret? Did he have a dark plan already in place?

  Before Katia could pursue the frightening thought, Schmidt turned his bold scrutiny on to her. “May we come in? Or are we to stand on your doorstep all morning?”

  The man was, beyond question, the most arrogant Nazi Katia knew. And considering the company she kept, that was saying a lot.

  Tread carefully with this one, Katia.

  Hidden beneath several layers of foolish woman, she cocked her head at an agreeable angle. “Oh, dear, forgive me. Do come in.”

  She moved to her left, blessing them both with a happy smile as they passed by.

  Once inside, Schmidt turned on his heel and handed Katia the bouquet of roses he’d been holding behind his back.

  “For you,” he said. “I understand they are your favorite.”

  He held her stare with a challenging look in his gaze.

  Katia remained expressionless, fiercely so, but her mind raced in frantic chaos.

  She hated white roses. No, she detested them. They reminded her of happier days when her father would bring a bouquet to both her and her mother for no particular reason.

  Elena knew of Katia’s aversion. Why would she allow Schmidt to make this cruel gesture?

  A test, perhaps? But who was running the show, Schmidt or her mother? And was Katia supposed to react with outrage or complacency?

  To avoid revealing her confusion, she quickly took the bouquet and buried her nose in the blooms. The scent made her stomach churn in anguish and a sense of loss besieged her. How she missed her beloved father. His faith had been strong, even in the moment of his death.

  In comparison, Katia’s faith was weak, practically nonexistent. But she was growing weary of relying only on herself and her quick thinking. They that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength.

  She swallowed her trepidation. “Thank you, Hermann. They’re very beautiful.”

  “Go put the flowers in water, darling.” Elena patted Katia’s hand, the gesture reminiscent of when she had been a child with a hurt that needed soothing. “Then we’ll leave for our outing.”

  At the odd note of apology in her mother’s eyes, tears pricked at the back of Katia’s eyes. What was Elena trying to tell her?

  Unsure of the meaning behind the undercurrents traveling between them, Katia made herself breathe evenly. “I’ll only be a moment.”

  Elena nodded, an obscure smile playing at the edge of her lips. “Good girl.”

  Ice clutched around Katia’s heart. This secretive woman was not the mother she knew. Was Elena trying to tell her something? Something only the two of them would understand?

  In an attempt to keep her hands from shaking, Katia concentrated on the task her mother had set before her. She filled a vase with water from the kitchen sink, all the while keeping her attention on her guests in the adjoining room. Thankfully, her home had an open floor plan.

  As though staged by a seasoned director, Elena remained in plain view while Schmidt idly moved from one room to another. From beneath her lowered lashes, Katia traced his every step.

  As he made his way systematically from one end of her house to the other, he ran his index finger along a table, a chair, another table. He craned his neck to look into a room off to his left, another on his right.

  Clearly, he wasn’t attempting to be subtle with his search. All the while Katia’s mother simply watched him as though nothing was out of the ordinary with his bold inspection.

  Were the two working together? Could Katia not even trust her own mother? A woman with far more to lose than most?

  My grace is sufficient.

  Even now, Lord? Are You in this room with me now? Or am I alone, like always?

  “So,” Katia said, forcing her fingers to arrange the flowers one at a time. “Where do you two want to eat this morning?”

  “I think we should go to our favorite little café near the Rathausmarkt,” Elena said, turning to face Katia directly. “The Engel café. You know the one.”

  Katia caught the silent warning in her mother’s eyes.

  Sudden fear snapped to life, leaching into her muscles and nearly causing her knees to buckle. Breathe, she told herself. In. Out. In. Out.

  But no matter how hard she tried to remain calm, the floor seemed to shift beneath her and she couldn’t stop thinking about the danger her mother was in with her Nazi fiancé.

  Swallowing, Katia moved back into the main living area and set the roses on a table near the door. “Yes. Yes. I adore the Engel café. I think that will do nicely.”

  Elena nodded at her in…approval?

  Unaware of the silent communication between mother and daughter, Schmidt completed his final pass through the living room and stopped at Elena’s side. His eyes held the same glint of fanaticism Katia saw in the most treacherous Nazis of her acquaintance. She had no doubt the kind of man Schmidt hid under the Kriegsmarine uniform.

  The knowledge gave her an odd rush of confidence.

  She knew exactly how to deal with monsters like this man.

  If she was careful—and Katia was always careful—a relationship with Hermann Schmidt could prove valuable.

  Besides, the more she kept an eye on the terrible man, the more she could keep a protective watch over her mother. One thing was certain, something wasn’t right with Elena Kerensky.

  Katia had to find out what.

  “Now that I’ve put the flowers in water, why don’t we leave for the restaurant?” she suggested.

  Elena nodded at her again, her motherly approval as clear as glass this time. “Excellent idea, darling.”

  Gathering her handbag and coat, Katia forced her mind to work quickly. This was not the first time she’d been in a dangerous situation like this. In fact, she’d acted this role a hundred times, with a hundred d
ifferent Nazis like Hermann Schmidt. The part fit her as well as the gloves she slid onto her hands.

  But with her mother’s involvement, the stakes had risen. Katia had to make this her most masterful performance to date.

  Chapter Twelve

  A band of low-flying clouds swallowed the last patch of sunlight, turning the Hamburg sky a stark shade of gray. Jack gauged the weather with the eyes of a trained sailor. Satisfied the rain would hold, he edged closer to the Engel café and studied the three diners through the large, plateglass window on his right.

  The Nazi propaganda machine couldn’t have staged a more perfect scenario. The handsome naval officer, dressed in all his military glory, dining leisurely with his two beautiful companions as though the war was already won.

  But as convincing as the scene appeared on the surface, Jack knew first impressions were deceiving.

  He shifted closer and instantly registered the odd stillness in Kapitän zur See Schmidt. Obvious mistrust glared in his eyes, eyes that never left Katarina’s face as she chatted happily away. For her part, the woman had slipped into the role of silly daughter once again.

  Jack’s stomach churned with anger. Katarina Kerensky played a deadly game with a very dangerous man.

  At least she had chosen a table directly in front of the window overlooking the town square. Her position put her in the line of vision of anyone who passed by the restaurant, including Jack.

  It hadn’t taken much to discover that Katarina and her mother frequented this café. Had Kerensky been expecting Jack to come looking for her? Was she worried about being in such an intimate situation with her mother and Hermann Schmidt? Perhaps her boast that she could “handle” the two had been nothing more than false bravado.

  A protective instinct surged again, making Jack want to race into the café and snatch Katarina away. Away from men like Hermann Schmidt. Away from Germany. Away from anything that would put her in danger.

  Jack shook his head.

  What was wrong with him? Katarina Kerensky was no amateur. She knew the risks.

  Jack feared for her anyway.

  As if to mock his foul mood, the clouds split open and a ray of sunshine speared a path from him to the café. The added light gave Jack a better view of his surroundings. Leaning against a monument built to commemorate the Great War veterans, he checked the perimeter around the café before he moved into position.

  Activity in the town square was down at this hour. A row of plants lined the walkway next to the restaurant, while a scatter of empty chairs peppered the deserted area under a faded green canopy.

  Overhead, the spire of the St. Nikolai Church punched above the rest of the buildings, as if to proclaim its steadfast presence despite the surrounding evil. The church’s intricate design outshone the ordinary Hamburg rooftops. There was a time in which Jack would have seen that as a sign of God’s very real presence in his life, reminding him that he wasn’t alone.

  Draw nigh to God, and He will draw nigh to you.

  Was it that easy? Could he simply turn to God and know he would be welcomed home?

  Before, Jack would have answered his own question with a resounding yes. Not anymore. The day he’d become a spy had been the end of simple answers to hard questions.

  Setting his mind back on business, Jack aimed his gaze on the interior of the café and studied Schmidt more precisely. Even from this distance, he could see that the German’s eyes belonged to a warrior. When the Nazi wasn’t glaring at Kerensky his gaze darted around the interior of the café, assessing each table.

  Was he looking for something specific?

  Or someone?

  No doubt, the man had checked out Jack’s background by now. He’d be stupid not to investigate Friedrich Reiter after the tension in their first meeting backstage at the theater. But again, Jack wasn’t going to rely on supposition or visual perceptions. Now that he was here Jack needed to find out whether Kapitän zur See Schmidt was going to be a threat to his current mission.

  No time like the present.

  So do not fear, for I am with you…I am your God.

  The fresh reminder of God’s promise settled his mind.

  Pushing away from the monument, Jack sauntered toward the café. He didn’t bother with stealth as he entered through the front door. Friedrich Reiter feared nothing and no one. Intentionally drawing all eyes to him, he wove through the crowded restaurant at a leisurely pace.

  Disregarding Schmidt’s glare and Elena Kerensky’s worried lift of an eyebrow, Jack took Katarina’s hand and brushed a kiss across her knuckles. “What a happy coincidence finding you here.”

  She lifted her gaze to his. For a split second, their stares connected with a force that nearly flattened him.

  “Herr Reiter,” she said. “This is a surprise.” Her voice was filled with obvious pleasure.

  Even knowing this was an act for her companions’ benefit, Jack found himself swallowing. Hard. “A pleasant surprise, I hope.”

  “The very best.” She practically purred.

  Loyalties tangled and warred inside him. He was beginning to feel the stirrings of deep emotion for this woman. The kind of stupid feelings that got a man killed if he went in unprepared.

  I am with you…I am your God. Jack smiled. A little.

  Katarina blinked, slowly. “You remember my mother and her…” She motioned to Schmidt. “Friend.”

  With a grand show of reluctance, Jack shifted his attention to the couple across the table. “Of course.”

  “Please, won’t you join us, Herr Reiter.” Elena Kerensky motioned him to the empty chair at their table.

  “Thank you.” He settled into the offered seat and studied Katarina’s mother with open interest. She stared at him with equal boldness. Her eyes were filled with a hundred questions, but she held her tongue.

  “I hope I’m not interrupting something important,” he said solely to her.

  “Not at all. We were just preparing to order.” Her tone was affable enough, but there was obvious distrust in the stiff angle she held her shoulders.

  She was reserving judgment. Smart woman.

  Hermann Schmidt, however, had come to his conclusions already. He glared at Jack with disdain.

  The naval officer must have discovered information about Friedrich Reiter that didn’t sit well with him. Jack looked forward to finding out just what the other man had uncovered. It would be an opportunity to gain necessary information about his alter ego’s growing reputation.

  Relishing the upcoming confrontation, Jack smiled the smile of a predator.

  Schmidt returned the favor.

  Katarina looked from one to the other then cleared her throat. “Hermann was just telling me about his recent commission.” She smiled at him. “Admiral Doniky himself gave the orders.”

  “Doenitz,” Schmidt corrected with a large dose of annoyance.

  She gave him a vacant look. “Who?”

  “We just went through this, Katarina. Not Doniky, Doenitz. Admiral Karl Doenitz.”

  She sighed heavily. “Oh. Yes, that’s correct. Doenitz. I don’t know why I can’t get that right.” She turned her attention to Jack. “Isn’t it amazing that Hermann knows a real admiral?”

  She looked and sounded enthralled with the idea, but only in a superficial way. There was nothing of the spy in the woman now.

  Impressed with her acting abilities, Jack smiled at her with an indulgent grin, the kind a man gives the woman he adores.

  “And best yet. Hermann has promised to introduce me to the admiral tomorrow evening at mother’s party.”

  Jack pulled her hand in his and laced their fingers together. “How lovely for you, darling.”

  He kissed her knuckles then swiveled in his chair so he could place a smile on Elena. “It must be quite an honor to have such an illustrious man attend your party.”

  Elena lifted an elegant shoulder. “The admiral will not be the first high-ranking official in my home.”

  Below h
er lashes she slid a warning glare in his direction, a look meant only for him. If Jack wasn’t mistaken, she’d just told him not to press the issue any further at this time.

  Jack went instantly on guard. Why would she make such a threat? Was Elena Kerensky the one he needed to worry about and not Schmidt? He gripped Katarina’s hand a little tighter.

  Elena looked down at their joined hands. “You will come to the party, Herr Reiter? As Katia’s escort, of course.” Her smile was sleek and polished and impossible to read.

  Jack inclined his head. “I would like nothing more.”

  Katarina let out a sweet laugh. “Oh, lovely.”

  Schmidt brought his glass to his mouth, the gesture drawing Jack’s attention. The officer took a long swallow and then set it carefully back onto the white tablecloth—a little too carefully. “Elena, darling, would you and Katarina be so kind as to find our waiter and tell him that we are ready to order?”

  Elena opened her mouth to speak.

  Shaking his head, Schmidt raised his hand to stop her. “I would like a moment alone with our new friend.”

  She looked prepared to argue but then stood abruptly. “Yes, of course, Hermann. Whatever you wish.” She held out her hand to her daughter. “Come along, darling.”

  “Why do I have to go, as well?” With the perfect blend of surprise and hurt pride, Katarina furrowed her brow. She played her role well today.

  “We need to allow the men a moment to speak privately,” Elena explained.

  Wide-eyed, Katarina looked from Jack to Schmidt to Jack again. He could only guess what the actress was really thinking behind the empty look she swept across him.

  “But I want to stay with—”

  “Come, Katia.” With a firm hold on her arm, Elena all but dragged Katarina out of her chair. “We shall be back shortly,” she said to Schmidt. “Very shortly,” Katarina added over her shoulder as she stumbled after her mother.

  Schmidt waited until the women moved out of earshot before speaking. “You are not the first man to succeed with Elena’s daughter.”

  “I am fully aware that she is quite popular with men.”

 

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