Rami had stood quietly this whole time. “What about my mother?” she asked. “My father?”
“Your dad has been in the woods this whole time,” Irena explained again. “He should be back when the fighting is over.” She hoped this was true. “For your mother, I hope she will be too.” This was a lie. She knew what had happened to Ala. Julian’s inside person had told them, along with the planned ambush. Thus Peter. She hated to tell Rami this, but she had not been able to bring herself to share the truth yet. She hoped when the war was over that Rami’s father would reappear. Then she could bear to tell her about her mother.
Adam frowned. He didn’t approve of this. He thought they should tell her now. “Let’s go,” said Irena, starting to walk again. This was certainly not the place to have that argument again.
They continued their stroll, enjoying the trees and the bushes. The garden was not as beautiful as it was in the spring and summer, but just the opportunity to walk here as if the war had never happened was a wonderful salve to their spirits.
They returned to Maria’s an hour later. Her friend was there, setting out some bread and cheese for an afternoon meal. They sat around the table, sipping a little vodka, laughing and teasing each other. Even Maria joined in. At the end of the meal Irena rose to leave.
“Why can’t you stay?” Rami asked.
“I have to look in on my mother,” she responded.
“Wouldn’t she be all right for a day?” Adam asked. “You could spend the night?” He winked at her and she felt the warmth inside her. Perhaps she could spend the night here and check in on her mother in the morning. No, she’d come down with a cold and Irena wanted to look in on her to make sure she was all right.
“Tomorrow night,” she promised. “As long as she’s on the mend.”
“Fine,” said Adam, pretending he was offended. “I’ll just stay here with the other women in my life.” He made a playful grab at Maria’s arm. She slapped him away.
“Stop that nonsense,” she protested.
“Well,” said Irena, checking her watch. “I’m off.”
Adam rose and walked her to the door. He unlatched it and they stepped outside. “Are you sure you can’t stay?” he whispered, kissing her neck. “I’ll make it worth your while.”
She moved in closer, putting her arms around him and reaching up to kiss him on the lips. “I’d love to,” she said, still struggling with the decision. “But I have to go check on her.”
He kissed her back, holding her tight. “Did you mean what you said today?”
“About what?” she asked.
“About the divorce. The marriage.”
She looked up at him intently. “I wouldn’t want anything else more in the world.”
He smiled, kissing her again on the forehead. “Go to your mother and hurry back tomorrow. You’ve promised me a night together and I intend to collect on it.”
She kissed him again and left. She had a long walk ahead of her. She hardly noticed the passing of the streets and time as she headed back to her apartment. She fantasized about the end of the war. A flat of their own. Children. They would both return to meaningful work, her in social work for the new Polish socialist regime, and Adam as an attorney, or working for the government. She thought about the day, perhaps not too far in the future now, when the Germans would evacuate Warsaw. She smiled to herself. There was a future now. Something to live for after all this struggle and death.
She arrived at her building and hurried up to the apartment. She opened the door and immediately knew that something was wrong. She called for her mother but there was no answer. She rushed to the bedroom. She was there, in bed, but she wasn’t answering. Her hair and forehead were soaking wet. Irena touched her head. She was on fire.
“Mother!” she called. “Mother, can you hear me?”
Her mother’s face tensed, and she opened her mouth, as if she had heard her and was trying to respond. But the words would not form in her mouth. Irena rushed to the kitchen sink, pouring water into a cup. She brought the water in and tried to pour some of the liquid down her mother’s throat, a few drops at a time. Her mother sputtered and coughed. Her eyes opened wide, but she stared past Irena as if she didn’t see her.
“Don’t worry, Mother, I’m going to get you some help.” Irena turned and rushed toward the door.
Halfway across the threshold the door ripped open. Torn nearly off its hinges, the door buckled at an odd angle. She screamed. There were men there. Soldiers and two young men in long leather trench coats. They rushed forward and seized her arms.
“My mother!” she screamed. “My mother is sick! She needs my help.”
One of the men held a cloth to her mouth. “Don’t worry about your mother,” he said. “Worry about yourself.”
She struggled against the rag, barely able to breathe. She felt dizzy and the lights above her shrunk down as if she were in a tunnel. She felt herself falling forward and the hands seized her harder. She fell into darkness and remembered no more.
Chapter 31
The Dark Dance
October 1943
Gestapo Headquarters, Warsaw, Poland
“Irena.” Klaus said the words in a gentle whisper. He stood over the Polish woman, who was still passed out. She was tied ankles and wrists to a chair. Her head was slumped to the side. She was starting to grimace, starting to come to.
It had been Irena all this time. How had he missed this? He remembered the investigation at the office. He recalled pulling her out of the line at the Umschlagplatz. He thought she’d just been concerned about a Jew or two that she had known, but now he realized it was so much more than that. He shook his head. He normally saw things so clearly, but for this woman he’d seemed to have a blind spot. He wondered why. Perhaps it was because he saw something of himself in her. She was strong, persistent, fanatical about her duties. While he could never understand her socialist leanings, he had sacrificed everything for his own ideological beliefs. Only to be betrayed by his own people. The same was happening to Irena now. One of her own had given her up to save themselves. To make their own life a little easier. Such was the way of the world.
He nudged her ankle. “Irena,” he repeated. She opened her eyes halfway and slurred some words in reply. He touched her leg, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Irena. I need you to wake up.”
Her eyelids fluttered and opened. She stared out with a glazed expression for long moments, but finally focused on Klaus. He saw the shock and surprise as she realized who she was looking at, where she was. Her body jerked as she tried to rise. Her body dragged to the left and the chair toppled over. She hit the concrete floor hard.
Klaus nodded his head and a guard ran forward, seizing her and bringing her chair back up with her in it. She looked at him again, eyes full of terror.
“Irena. What on earth am I going to do with you?”
“My mother,” she managed to whisper. “She’s ill. She needs a doctor.”
Klaus shook his head. “No sense in worrying about her now.” He tapped his cheek with his index finger. “Unless you are willing to tell me everything I want to know. Yes, that would be a solution,” he said finally. “And a wise one for you.” He took a step and loomed over her. Her head arched back, struggling to meet his eyes.
“Yes, you know what’s coming, don’t you Irena? But no matter what you’ve feared, what you’ve dreaded, you cannot imagine what it is really going to be like. Your mother is ill, you say? If you tell me what I want to know, she’ll get assistance today. What’s more, you won’t be touched. You’ll be released and you can go on with your life with that Jew lover you have in hiding.”
He saw her eyes widen. “Oh yes, we know about him too. We know much already, Irena. I’m only asking you to tell me a little more.” He saw the struggle in her eyes. He smiled to himself. She was going to break, perhaps without him having to apply any pressure. This was surprising, and so much more than he’d hoped for.
He motioned for t
he guard, who brought him a chair. He sat down in front of her and put his hand on her leg again. “Irena,” he whispered. “I can see it in your eyes. You don’t want to go through this.” He leaned forward. “The war is almost over,” he said. “You can live out the rest of it in peace and quiet. You can save your mother, your lover, anyone you name—within reason. But I need something from you. I need egota. Give me egota and a hundred children you’re hiding, and you’ll walk out of here today, intact. We’ll take care of your mother and we’ll leave you alone for the rest of the war.”
He squeezed her leg again, gently. “We know you’re hiding hundreds of children, Irena. I don’t need all of them. Just a few. I need some arrests, and I need egota. You can play the rest of your game. You can save most of them.”
She stared at him, her face still full of fear and indecision.
“I’ll give you an hour,” he said. “Then we must begin.”
He stepped out of the room and returned to his office. His tea was laid out on his desk just the way he liked it. He poured himself a cup and measured out his sugar. Closing his eyes, he took a sip and allowed himself to relax. This was going to be far easier than he’d feared. Now he just had to consider what to do with the information. If he gave it directly to the colonel, Wagner would assuredly take credit. He was going to have to do something he’d never done before: He would go out of channels and send the information to Hans Frank through some of his contacts in Kraków. He could imagine the colonel’s face when he realized that Klaus had ignored his orders, gone around him, but was protected because of the victory he had achieved. He smiled to himself. Perhaps he would get his old position back. He could imagine the colonel standing by, furious, while his things were gathered up and Klaus moved back into the office. That would be sweet revenge indeed.
He checked his watch. The hour had passed. He returned to the cell. He knew immediately that there would be a delay. Irena’s face was stony and full of defiance. She’d reached some sort of conclusion. The wrong one. He shrugged. No matter, whether early or late, she would come around.
“Are you ready to tell me what I’ve asked?” He already knew what her answer would be.
She stared at him for long moments. There was just a hint of indecision in her eyes. This was the last moment she could make a deal without any physical consequences to herself. Finally, she closed her eyes and shook her head.
“That’s too bad,” Klaus said. He removed his service dagger and bent down. He slashed the knife across the back of her hand. A thin line formed. She gave out a scream, and struggled in her chair, but her wrists were firmly tied and there was nowhere she could go. The cut was deep, and it quickly filled with blood, the liquid dripping out onto the floor until it made a small pool below her. He stood up. There were tears in her eyes and she gasped at the pain.
“So it begins,” said Klaus. “I’ll let you think about that and we can chat again this evening.” He turned and walked out of the room. She’d chosen badly. No matter. She would talk. He’d seen it in her eyes.
Chapter 32
A Woman’s Strength
January 1944
Gestapo Headquarters, Warsaw, Poland
Irena woke. Her eyes were puffed, and she could feel the pain in her cheeks. The fire in her leg was worse. She lay on the floor of her cell, her clothes in rags. She remembered last night’s nightmare. A terror among terrors. She looked down and saw that they’d set the bone in her leg. There was a dirty bandage wrapped tightly around her upper thigh. She wished they’d left it alone. If she had an infection she might die. She wanted death more than anything.
How long had she endured his torture? She couldn’t keep track of the time. Months had passed, that was certain. She had no idea how she had endured. At first, she thought she would expire from the pain, or worse, that she would talk. But she’d fought down the words and by concentrating on each day, moment by moment, she’d somehow managed to hold her tongue.
Why didn’t they shoot her? Klaus had threatened to kill her so many times now. He’d held a gun to her head a dozen times, even pulling the trigger. But the chamber was empty. He must have thought he was motivating her, but he didn’t realize, she wanted the gun to be loaded.
Her mother. She was gone. He’d described her arrest, torture, and murder. Had he taken Adam and Rami too? He hadn’t said anything yet, but she knew that didn’t mean anything. Klaus liked to dish out his terror, course by exquisite course. He might be holding it back for just the right emotional moment. Did he know how close she’d been to talking last night? If he had, he wouldn’t have let her go. He would have kept her there, kept her awake, and played his last cards. She would have talked. She was desperate to talk. She didn’t know how much more she could resist. She was starving, exhausted, the pain had stacked on, brick by brick, until the weight of it threatened to crush her soul.
But he’d given her a break. He’d patched up her wounds and let her sleep. She had a sliver of resistance left. Perhaps enough to hold him off for another day. Every day was a miracle from God.
God. Was there a God? The Russians didn’t think so. Her socialist friends were sure it was a myth. But here in this cell, where every moment was agony, she wasn’t sure. She knew one thing for sure: There might not be a heaven but assuredly there was a hell.
There was a knock on the door. She felt the fear course through her. Why did he bother knocking?
The latch moved and the door opened. Klaus was there. He smiled down at her. “How is our little patient today?”
She spat on the pavement, unwilling to answer.
“Ungrateful as ever, I see,” he said. “I’ve kept you alive all this time and yet you don’t thank me for my efforts.” He stepped in and lowered himself to the pavement, leaning his back against the wall. “Ahh,” he said. “It feels good to rest for just a minute.” He looked at her, his face full of concern. “Honestly, Irena, I wish you would just tell me what I want to know. If you believe I’ve enjoyed this, you are entirely wrong. The same truth exists that I presented to you on the first day of your visit. I don’t want to harm you; I just want some answers.”
“You want names so you can torture and kill others. So you can send those poor little children up the chimney,” she hissed. “I’ll never give them to you.”
He looked at her intensely for a moment. “It’s the children that really bother you, isn’t it? I’ll tell you what, Irena. I don’t want them anymore. You can keep the little ones safe. I just want egota. Just give me the names I need, and once I verify things you can walk out of here.”
She was shocked. He didn’t want the children anymore. Just egota. She could save them if she just told him what he wanted. She thought of Julian, of her friends in the resistance. She would mourn their loss. But she knew she wasn’t going to last much longer. Could she pass up this chance to save the children, even if it meant betraying her cause? Did she have a choice? She saw the grin on his face. She was struggling with this decision and he knew she was.
She ran the issue through her mind. What was she going to do? “Can I have a little time to think?” she asked.
He pulled himself up. “Of course, you can. And let me give you something else to help your decision.” He opened the door and a guard brought in a platter with bread, sausage, cheese, and some grapes. He lowered the tray down to her. “Here’s something for your information. A little appreciation in advance.” He stood and bowed his head slightly. “I hope you’ll now see reason,” he said. He turned and left the cell.
She couldn’t believe it. They’d only given her a little bread and water each day. She was starving. She ripped off some of the sausage and shoved it into her mouth. She’d never tasted anything better in her entire life. She gorged on the cheese and grapes and then wolfed down the bread. She felt sick from the influx of food and she threw up on the pavement. She didn’t care. Her stomach felt better than it had all these months.
Klaus returned sometime later. He looked at the mes
s she’d made, shaking his head. “I should have warned you,” he said. “Too much too quickly is a bad thing. After we’ve had our little talk you can have a shower and we’ll get you some new clothing.”
She hung on his words. She couldn’t imagine the feeling of warm water on her skin. Of being clean. Of having new clothing brought to her. She wanted desperately to tell him what he wanted, but she couldn’t bring herself to do so. She shook her head, the tears welling up in her eyes. “I’m sorry. I can’t. I just can’t.”
He stood over her for long minutes. Finally, she heard him scoff audibly and he opened the door, letting himself out. She laid her head back on the concrete and erupted in sobs. He would be back, she knew, and soon. The terror would begin anew.
Chapter 33
New Horizons
January 1944
Gestapo Headquarters, Warsaw, Poland
Klaus walked down the hallway and opened a cell door. Another woman was there. She was sitting in a chair, her eyes full of fear. She’d just arrived.
“Hello, my dear,” said Klaus. “I hope we haven’t disturbed your schedule.”
“Why am I here?” she asked. “You promised me protection.”
“I have protected you these many months,” said Klaus. “But I need more information from you.”
“I’ve told you everything I know,” she said. “And you said you were done with me.”
“You don’t want me to be done with you,” he said, taking a step toward her. “Be happy you still have something to tell me.”
“What do you want?” she asked.
“I want you to tell me where Irena’s lover is. What is his name? Where is he living?”
The woman looked at him with surprise. “I told you, I don’t know that.”
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