“Now, when you apply the wig, make sure you apply makeup near the hairline so that it won’t look unnatural.” She showed me the inside of the wig and some strips of tape. She had me gather up my dark waves so she could place the wig on me. She then explained that she was carefully applying nude makeup near the hairline so that any seams would be undetectable.
“You’re good at this.”
“Merci.” She examined my hair and make-up, and seemed satisfied. “Now, perhaps a little contouring so that the shape of your face will appear a little different.”
She paused and turned the volume up on the radio before returning to her work. Part of me wanted to laugh at the oddity of such a situation. Young women my age back in Baltimore, who were doing makeup in their friends’ rooms, were usually talking about their sweethearts and listening to some catchy Benny Goodman song. Here I was, listening to an underground French Resistance broadcast and using makeup to disguise myself—so I could infiltrate the University of Paris and extract a Nazi wizard.
“I should’ve told Penn to send us some of that liquor he’s been bootlegging,” I said.
At this point, it seemed Renée was engrossed in both her work and the final announcements from Mathieu Perrine. “And as we come to a close, my friends,” Mathieu’s voice grew somber, “let us remember all those who have gone before us in the Great Fight. Especially our friend, Angela Wyatt, who we’ve just learned has perished in Dachau.”
“Did...he say Angela? Angela Wyatt?”
“What is it, Em...Noelle?”
I felt like someone had stabbed me in the heart. A part of me knew deep down that Stella would not return to our London office, and that eventually Ian would have to cart away her belongings. But why did it have to be Dachau?
“Mon chéri, let it out...I can fix that silly makeup later.”
My eyes were filled with tears, I let them brim over and streak down my face. “I’m sorry, Renée.”
“I understand. Believe me, I understand.”
Now I knew why she had those sad and tired eyes. I couldn’t help but wonder how many more friends and loved ones I would have to cry over before all this would end.
7
Renée saw me off in the morning with a tight hug and the most recent Maquis codeword: Destiny. I headed out toward the university which had changed in many ways since I last visited three years ago. Much of the artwork which hung in its halls had been stolen and carted away by the Nazis, the atmosphere reeked of distrust and gloom. Any books, magazines, or journals that threatened the unquestioning obedience they wished to instill in the community had long been confiscated and burned. Anyone who uttered a word of protest or raised a question of doubt found himself either cruelly punished or never heard from again.
This explained why the number of students dwindled at the university, not only did students have to contend with intellectual and political oppression, but some also found themselves and their families starving or even homeless. Groups of refugees wandered throughout the region and supplies grew scarce. If I thought the rationing in England tried me sorely, then the utter want that many people here endured made me rethink it.
I found that most students and faculty kept to themselves and didn’t talk to newcomers, I didn’t necessarily blame them. A few Gestapo agents walked the halls from time to time seeking to intimidate or arrest anyone, sometimes just choosing people at random to “teach a lesson to.” I needed to make sure that I wasn’t one of those people, so I kept my head down and just spent my time in class, taking notes and making observations.
I would have no other chance to be at the university to grab Dr. Heilwig and time was against me. Whoever sent those warlocks after me had learned about their fates, no doubt, and would be sending more. I made sure that I blended in with the students as much as possible while also being aware of my surroundings and keeping an eye out for trouble. Sometimes this was difficult to do, because I’d be tempted to speak out against the pro-Nazi diatribe a professor or two spewed, or break the arm of a Gestapo agent harassing students at times.
Just like the propaganda machine they ran with public newspapers and radio broadcasts, the Nazis sought to communicate everything from their twisted worldview. When I first sat on one of Dr. Heilwig’s biology classes, I was struck by his demeanor. I expected him to stare down students as he paced back and forth, forcefully declaring his ideals. Instead, his thin frame carried him across the room like a walking skeleton, and his voice filled the room with a sense of apathy. Within the first hour of class, I walked out after he began reciting how Nazi-approved scientists established the “fact” of the inferiority of certain races in a monotone voice.
The next day, one of my classmates, Isidore, joined me for lunch in a student dining area. He asked me why I had left class so hastily. I didn’t know if I could trust him, and so I blamed it on a headache.
“It’s unfortunate we don’t have a nurse’s office anymore...or a nurse, for that matter.” He gave a look of displeasure and glanced around our area. With his voice and demeanor, I could’ve easily imagined him delivering fiery speeches in a political science class instead of turning the pages of a biology book. He seemed out of place here.
“How did the class end? Could I borrow your notes?” I lifted my bowl of soup to my lips and drank. It was all broth anyway.
“Of course.” He pulled out his notebook and handed it to me. I placed my empty bowl on the table, and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand.
“Are you going to finish your soup?”
“Yes,” he laughed. “We’ll be lucky to even have bread by next week.”
“So, you don’t like what’s happening here?”
He wrinkled his nose. “You ask a lot of questions.”
“Well, genius, that’s why I’m in school.” I took out my notebook and opened it. “I’m sorry, but I think I left my pencil case in Professor Torsten’s room. Could I ask you to...”
“Would you like to borrow my pen?”
“I tend to make mistakes, so I’d better use a pencil.”
“I’ll grab it, then.” He gestured for me to stay seated, and he rose to his feet.
“I promise I won’t drink your soup.” I smiled.
“It’s fine, Noelle. I’ll go get it.”
Like I said, this was a gloomy and distrustful environment. So why did a cheerful and eager-to-please Isidore suddenly want to be my buddy? When he was out of sight, I flipped through his notebook and checked what he had written. It all looked plain enough, just notes from Heilwig’s and other professors’ classes. However, I noticed faint underlines of certain letters on each page, and realized that it was a cipher. Was Isidore a spy? And more importantly, did he know anything about me?
I grabbed his pen and quickly jotted down the underlined letters in the back of my notebook. When I thought I saw him coming, I dropped the pen and held onto my notebook, hoping that I at least scribbled enough letters to make out a coherent sentence. He approached and held up my pencil case, seeking confirmation. I nodded and beckoned him toward me.
“You are a true gentleman.” I grabbed the case and opened it, pulling out one of my pencils. I began copying his notes from Heilwig’s last class.
“Where did you live again?”
“Why do you want to know?” I kept copying. I wore an unconcerned expression, although my insides tightened.
“I wanted to be able to call on you and ask you to dinner.”
By observing his body language and tone of voice, I could tell he was lying. “I’m sorry, Isidore, but I already have a sweetheart.” Well, at least as close as I’d ever get for the time being, and even he had a big question mark hanging over his head.
“Did you get everything you needed?” He opened his hand, and I returned his notebook.
“Almost, but it’s nothing to fret over. I learn quickly.”
“So do I.”
“Well,” I began collecting my items, trying to ignore the chill running down my
spine. “I have to be off now, but thank you for the notes.”
I walked across campus and headed for the ladies room where I pretended to primp in the sitting area’s mirror with a couple of other girls. When they finally cleared out and I was alone, I took out my notebook and opened it. Breathing in the lingering scent of perfume, I began poring over the letters, trying to create words and make sense out of them.
Simple ciphering was one of the first things I learned as a spy. Usually when someone wanted to break a code, she would use common cipher keys such as the person’s name, his favorite food or pet, or a code word. Some codes were harder to break than others, and that’s why codemasters existed. After about an hour of trying to decipher Isidore’s note, I felt like I would need a codemaster myself. I ran my hands through my hair in frustration and wanted to toss the notebook across the room.
I glanced at the mirror that reflected my angry eyes and pouted lips. In an instant, an idea came to mind. Slowly, I held up the notebook to the mirror, and the message that was written backward unfolded before me:
Found her, Marcellus. Will bring her to you,
and no one will know.
Suddenly a gust of wind blew the door open. The lights flickered and died. The room shook, and I ran out with wobbly legs and my heart racing. I looked left and then right, but only saw a stone-faced Gestapo agent talking with the chemistry professor, Dr. Varenne at the east end of the corridor. The professor wore a slightly anxious look on his face and seemed to be in some kind of trouble. I couldn’t stay to hear what the conversation was about, and I certainly couldn’t do anything to help. Looking over my shoulder, I headed in the opposite direction and left the building.
Since my classes were over for the day, I decided to head back to Renée’s house. It took me longer than usual to get there because I circled the immediate area and then took a different route just to make sure that I wasn’t being followed. Isidore’s message unnerved me. I knew that I’d heard of Marcellus before, but couldn’t remember from where. And why exactly did this person want to find me? He must’ve sent Isidore to track me. Running to Spain suddenly sounded awfully tempting.
When I made it back to Renée’s, she had fixed a modest dinner consisting of vegetables and bread and had it waiting for me. Tonight must have been one of the nights to conserve electrical power because feeble candlelight illumined the dining room. As I laid my napkin across my lap and grabbed my utensils, I noticed that she didn’t bring out her plate.
“Aren’t you going to eat?” My fork and knife went limp in my hands.
“I already did.” She smiled as the candlelight flickered and shadows danced across her face.
I put my knife and fork down. “This is all there was?”
“I am used to this life. You need your strength.”
I sucked my teeth and shoved the plate toward her. “We could’ve easily split this.”
“Do you think, after all I’ve been through, that this one small meal will make a difference?” She shoved it back toward me.
“Maybe you are a hard woman, Renée.” I refused to take the plate. I could be just as stubborn as her.
“Man does not live by bread alone.”
“Yeah,” I crossed my arms, “well...we’re not men.”
She shook her head and grabbed the bread roll. “Take the vegetables, then.”
I picked at the plate before finally digging in with my fork. I wouldn’t put it past her to jump across the table and force me to eat the bread roll. “So...how was your day?”
“The usual. Otto called and we had a nice visit. Agent Karsten hasn’t returned.”
“Not yet, at least.”
“Tell me about your day at the university.”
I recounted everything, but left out the part about Isidore. I didn’t want her to worry, and I wanted to figure out who he really was before saying anything.
“I’m just about ready to make my move and extract Heilwig. Then...I’ll have to report back to London.” I felt a slight regret at my words because I enjoyed Renée’s company and I was certain she enjoyed mine.
If she felt as disappointed as I did, her expression didn’t show it. “Then you aren’t reporting to the Gray Tower?”
I shook my head. “Anyone is free to leave when she wants, and believe me, I don’t intend to go back any time soon. Besides, I’m not working for the Order.”
“Well, I’m glad.”
“Why?”
“Because they say the Black Wolves hunt members of the Order.”
“I’ve done pretty well so far.” Though I’d piss myself if I had to go at it with a Black Wolf.
She reached across the table and grabbed my hand.
“Sometimes I have doubts, and ask myself, ‘what am I doing? Is this all worth it?’”
I squeezed her hand before releasing it. “You’re not alone in that.”
“Good, because I want you to know that you’re not alone. If only there were more people like you, this world would be much better off.”
It felt good to hear that. “So you never thought once about just keeping your head down and...keeping your family?”
She bit into her bread roll. “Of course I did, but I didn’t do that.”
“Why?”
She paused and considered my question before answering. “If we didn’t stand and face the enemy, it would’ve destroyed any possibility of happiness with one another. At least by fighting we had a chance.”
“I’m afraid I’ll never have that chance.” I told her about Jane Lewis’s engagement and how I would probably end up like Stella. I had been holding this in for so long that I felt relieved to finally share my feelings with a friend—either that, or I really needed a shrink.
“Before my husband joined the Resistance,” she said, “he was a policeman. He dealt with criminals every day, and would come home tired nearly every night. I could tell his work drained him at times, yet we were a comfort to each other. You don’t have to end up like your friend. Fight now, so that you can secure the life you want. Be the master of your own destiny.”
I understood her words, but it was hard for me to accept them. It’s easy for someone to tell you to go and live as you pleased, and another to actually do it while setting aside obligations, people, and other forces that would steer you down another path.
“Thank you,” I said. “If I can extract Heilwig tomorrow and destroy The Plague, we’ll all be better off.”
“You’ll be careful, won’t you?” This time Renée’s expression did show traces of worry.
“As long as I have friends like you, I’ll be fine.”
She smiled. “Whether you go by Emelie, Noelle, or whatever codename…never change who you are inside.”
We then gladly turned the conversation toward lighthearted small talk, and when we were done with dinner I urged Renée to go lie down and rest while I cleared the table and washed dishes. I felt anxious about how I would confront Heilwig, and whether or not I’d be able to extract him. It wasn’t as if I could just walk up to him and politely ask him to come away with me.
In any case, I was at least relieved by the fact that I wouldn’t have to see Isidore in chemistry tomorrow. He had the class on a different day. However, it did little to console me since this meant that I only had a day to extract Heilwig. I would have to prepare my magic, arm myself, and finally make my move tomorrow...or die trying.
8
“Good morning, everyone.” Dr. Heilwig watched us all enter and shuffle toward our seats. “I’m sure you saw the note left on Dr. Varenne’s classroom door. Unfortunately, he will no longer be teaching with us, so I’ll be taking over his chemistry classes.”
Several students exchanged looks with one another. Others went pale at the sight of three Gestapo agents entering the room. I probably would’ve been afraid as well, since they gave us all looks as if we were daring them to shoot us all, but Isidore entered the classroom after them, claiming the empty seat next to me. As Heilwig ca
lled out the names of two young women and a young man, they looked toward the rest of us with silent pleas. Finding no help, they grabbed their books with quivering hands and went down to meet the Gestapo agents. I wondered if they had anything to do with Dr. Varenne.
I watched Isidore from the corner of my eye and began to perspire. I feared he would call the agents’ attention toward me, which would’ve been disastrous since I carried two pistols and my golden knife. I figured I might as well do it before he did, so I slipped him a note:
You don’t have chemistry today.
Without even using a pencil or pen, he passed back a response that looked as if it were written with charcoal:
I do now. There is someone I want
you to meet. Let’s be discreet about
this, shall we?
He winked at me. I sneered in response. Dr. Heilwig stood at the front, speaking with the Gestapo, and they allowed one of the girls to return to her seat. I passed another message to Isidore:
Can someone help me?
I need to get out of here.
Signed,
Isidore
He looked at me as if I were insane, but I gazed straight ahead and my hand shot up in the air. “I wanted to make the agents aware of the young man sitting next to me. He’s been passing suspicious notes.”
He gave me an incredulous glance and rose from his seat, but one of the agents drew his pistol and ordered him not to move. Isidore complied and let the agent search him. When he found the note, he ordered him outside the classroom and shadowed Isidore, with finger ready on his trigger. After a few minutes, the second agent guided the remaining young man and woman through the door, and they all left down the hallway.
I slouched in my chair, relieved that I had bought myself a little more time. Isidore would either kill them once they got to a private interrogation room or convince them he was a warlock. He said no one was supposed to know and that he wanted to be discreet. It seemed that the Gestapo weren’t the only ones after me and I’d have to find out why.
The Gray Tower Trilogy: Books 1-3 Page 7
