Kitabı oku: «Dangerous Allies», sayfa 2

Chapter Three

The moment all three gazes turned toward Jack his gut twisted into a hard knot. For a fraction of a second all the intense emotions—the guilt, the anger, the need for vengeance—threatened to break free and sweep away his control. But if he relaxed his guard for a moment, no matter the cause, someone would end up dead to night.

Hardening his resolve, Jack searched Kerensky’s face for signs of a hidden agenda. There was obvious distress in her eyes, a clear indication this interruption was not planned. But the woman was a world-renowned actress, one who knew how to drag sympathy out of a man.

He would be a fool to trust her.

As though sensing his reservation, she flashed him a smile and he lost his train of thought. Clenching his jaw, he forced his heartbeat to settle. Yet, no matter how hard he concentrated, he couldn’t look away from those remarkable eyes staring into his.

Kerensky blinked once, twice, finally breaking the spell between them. “Herr Reiter,” she began, addressing him by his assumed alias. “This is my mother, Elena Kerensky, and her escort, Hermann Schmidt.”

Acknowledging the woman first, Jack took Elena’s hand and touched his lips to her knuckles. “It is an honor to meet you. I now see where Katarina gets her beauty.”

“Thank you, Herr Reiter. You are very kind.” She turned to her companion and motioned him forward. “Come, Hermann, say hello to Katarina’s friend.”

As expected of all loyal Germans, Jack stepped back and gave the required Third Reich salute. “Heil Hitler, Kapitän zur See.”

The Nazi returned the gesture with quiet relish. “Heil Hitler.”

On the surface, Hermann Schmidt looked like a typical naval officer, but there was something in his arrogant stance that turned Jack’s blood to ice—an unyielding ruthlessness that he’d seen in too many high-ranking Nazis.

It was the same look that now stared back at him from the mirror every morning.

Was Jack becoming one of them?

Was he losing the last shreds of his humanity?

With each new mission, he played roulette with his soul. He could no longer expect God to hear his prayers or his pleas. Not after the horrors he’d committed in the name of war.

There could be no turning back, no chance of forgiveness. He had to start thinking like the man he was: a man with no future, no hope and a single goal—to hunt and destroy the enemy that had stolen his life from him.

Patience, Jack told himself. In spite of the urgency of his current mission, in spite of the tight deadline, time was his ally. He’d worked too hard building his cover to let an unexpected player in the game throw him off balance now.

Cutting through his thoughts, Elena Kerensky cleared her throat. “Herr Reiter, I don’t believe we’ve met before. Have you known my Katia long?”

Jack noted the concern in the woman’s eyes and decided to use it to ferret out how far Kerensky was willing to go to help the British. “I’ve known Katarina—” he rolled her name off his tongue in a slow caress “—long enough to come to the conclusion that she is a remarkable woman whom I wish to know better.”

Hitting her cue perfectly, Kerensky slid her arm through his and smiled up at him with unmistakable affection. “What a lovely thing to say, darling.”

With surprisingly little effort, he returned her smile as though they’d already become lovers.

Her gaze filled with female vulnerability, and she snuggled closer to him.

He ran a fingertip along her cheek.

There was a time when the God-fearing man Jack had once been would have been appalled by their blatant sexual undertones. But that was before Jack had walked with the enemy, before he’d become an embittered U.S. sailor infiltrating the SS.

Much like this famous actress, he played whatever role was necessary to accomplish his mission. And yet…

As he stared into Kerensky’s beautiful green eyes, Jack couldn’t stop himself from wishing they’d met at another time, and under different circumstances. He wondered if her performance was a remarkable display of acting ability, or something else. Something inherently truthful? Or something coldly sinister?

In that instant, the words of his father came to him.

Always remember, Jack, a woman has more power to destroy a man than any other weapon.

Jack’s pulse soared through his veins. Was Kerensky playing both sides? Had the Germans found out about his deception? Were they using this accomplished actress to bring him down at last?

Subterfuge. Hidden agendas. Jack no longer knew where the intrigue ended and reality began. Even in his own mind he could no longer discern how much of Jack Anderson lived inside him, and how much had become Friedrich Reiter, the deadly SS henchman. Every new mission blurred the line between the two, threatening Jack’s soul bit by bit.

A smart military man always knew when to hold his ground, and when to retreat. For now, his work was done.

Tapping into the ruthless man the Nazis had created, the one who coldly witnessed brutalities without flinching, Jack extracted himself from Kerensky’s grip. Ignoring the sense of loss that took hold of him, he turned to her mother then nodded at Hermann Schmidt. “It was a pleasure meeting you both.”

Keeping his eyes on Kerensky’s face, he took her hand in his and raised it to his lips. “I look forward to our next meeting, my darling.”

She made a soft sound of distress, but they both knew she wouldn’t voice an argument in front of her mother and the Nazi officer. It was a small victory, to be sure, but a victory that put Jack firmly in control of the mission.

He couldn’t have planned a more perfect finale to their first meeting.

Katia stared in muted astonishment as the British spy turned on his heel and headed toward the exit with ground-eating strides.

What now?

A wave of nausea hit, and for the first time all evening her smile threatened to waver. She stood perfectly still until the moment passed.

The man had gunmetal nerve, she’d give him that. Not only had he antagonized a high-ranking Nazi and her own mother with his boldness, he’d left Katia to deal with the messy consequences. Yet, even with frustration burning at the back of her throat, something about the British operative left her wanting…what?

What was it about the man that urged her to let down her guard, if only for a fraction of a second? For a moment tonight, with their arms twined together and their gazes bound in intimate familiarity, she’d forgotten all about playing a role. She’d merely been a woman enthralled with an intriguing man.

From the first moment their gazes had locked and held, she’d sensed her British contact was someone who knew what it meant to be an outsider. Just like her.

Was he a man she could trust?

A lethal thought.

Blind faith, she reminded herself, was nothing more than weakness, a trap that ultimately led to a one-way invitation to the concentration camps.

Another sick spasm clutched in her stomach, but she held her expression free of emotion. If the operative said he looked forward to their next meeting, then she had to believe there would indeed be a next meeting.

All was not lost.

For the moment, she simply needed to concentrate on placating a stunned parent and her suspicious escort.

Sliding a quick glance toward her mother, Katia cut off a sigh of frustration. Elena stood tall, her full attention focused on the British spy as he left through the back door.

“I don’t trust that man,” she muttered, regarding the exit with suspicious eyes. “Tell me again how you know Herr Reiter?”

Rule number one in espionage was to keep as close to the truth as possible. “He is a dear friend, one I see whenever he comes to Hamburg on business.”

Hermann Schmidt made a noise deep in his throat that sounded like a growl. “What, precisely, is his business?”

The uncharacteristic display of interest in her affairs chilled Katia down to the bone. This grim-faced Nazi was not a person with whom her mother should be spending her time. He was a formidable enemy, one who could ruin Elena if he uncovered her secret.

On full alert, Katia played her role cautiously. The key was to keep it simple. Consistent.

“I’m sure he told me once.” She tapped a finger against her chin. “I seem to remember him saying he owned a company that supplies the Third Reich with materials for the war.”

Schmidt’s features turned hard and inflexible, matching the severity of his tightly buttoned uniform and crisp white shirt underneath. “What sort of materials, exactly?”

Katia blinked at his impatience, the cold heat of the dangerous emotion flashing in his eyes. Fortunately, to Hermann Schmidt, beautiful equaled stupid.

The knowledge gave Katia a surge of courage, and a strong conviction to play this role to her utmost ability. Fluttering her lashes, she placed her hand on his arm and gave him an empty smile. Now, if only she wouldn’t throw up and ruin her act. “Is it really so important?”

“Yes.” He leaned over her, his eyes communicating an unmistakable ruthlessness. “It is very important you try to remember exactly what sort of business Herr Reiter owns.”

“You don’t have to take that tone with me.” Katia dropped her hand and pretended to pout, all the while gauging Schmidt’s mood from below her lashes. Why would a mere naval officer care what a man like Friedrich Reiter did for a living?

Before Schmidt responded, Elena pushed in front of him and softened her expression. “Try concentrating, dear.”

“Yes, all right, Mother. I shall try.”

She let out a sigh, careful not to overplay her role. This was no game. One misstep and her mother’s life could be in danger.

In truth, the British had told Katia very little about her contact. Standard operating procedure. For all she knew, Friedrich Reiter was exactly who he pretended to be—a wealthy Austrian shipbuilder.

Having stalled long enough, she drew her eyebrows into a frown. “Yes, I remember now. He is in construction. Or…shipbuilding, perhaps? One of the two.”

Schmidt’s lips flattened into a hard line. “Which is it? Construction or shipbuilding?”

She flung her hair over her shoulder, fully into her role in spite of the German’s open hostility. “Who can remember such tedious details?”

“You seem to have no problem remembering countless pages of dialogue.”

She gave him a pitying look and put the royal princess in her voice. “Herr Reiter is a patron of the arts and he adores me. Nothing else matters beyond that.”

Although he quirked an eyebrow at her, Hermann Schmidt visibly relaxed. “Of course, how could I have forgotten where your priorities lie?”

The sarcastic twist of his lips gave Katia pause. Like so many of his kind, this man was far too sharp to fool for long.

It was time to change the subject.

“Let’s not talk about Herr Reiter anymore.” She turned her focus back to her mother. “I had no idea you were coming to the theater this evening. You said nothing of it this afternoon at tea.”

A slow smile spread across Elena’s face. She looked at her escort with a question in her eyes. “Should I tell her?”

He nodded slowly, but there was a possessiveness in his gaze that had Katia swallowing hard.

Elena took both of Katia’s hands in hers and sighed. “Hermann and I have marvelous news to share with you.”

Katia looked from one to the other. At the happy expression they exchanged, a sick feeling of dread tangled in her stomach.

Oh, no. Please, please, no. “What…what news?”

“We are engaged to be married.”

“Why, that’s…” Katia’s breath caught in her throat. Even if the Lord had long since abandoned Katia, God could not be so cruel. “I…I’m speechless.”

“I’ve been waiting for your mother for many years.” Masculine pride danced in Schmidt’s eyes as he spoke. And something more. Something dark and ugly. And very, very determined. “Now I have her at last.”

Elena moved to the Nazi’s side and positioned herself shoulder to shoulder with him. “As you know, Hermann and I were childhood friends, before I met your father.”

“I remember.” Katia had to sink her teeth into her bottom lip to keep from shouting at her mother to wake from the nightmare that held her in its clutches.

How could Elena, a devout Christian with a secret Jewish grandfather, agree to marry a man whose only god was Germany and whose professed savior was Adolf Hitler?

“Congratulations.” She nearly choked on the words. “I am very happy for you both.”

“Oh, darling.” Elena pulled her into a tight embrace. “I am so glad you’re pleased.”

“I only want you to be happy,” she whispered into her mother’s hair before stepping back.

“Hermann has three days before he ships out again.” Elena’s breath caught in her throat and tears shimmered in her eyes. “It is my fondest wish that all three of us spend time together during his visit.”

Three days? How was Katia to complete her mission for the British with her mother demanding all her time? An unprecedented flush of desperation made her words rush out of her mouth. “But I am in the middle of a play. I have to be here every night and I—”

“Don’t worry, darling.” Elena patted her hand. “We’ll simply spend the days together then have a late supper after your performances.” Her tone was full of determination, a tone Katia knew well. In this, Elena would not relent.

Katia’s composure threatened to crack, then she remembered her British contact’s open declaration for her affections.

The man’s game had been an act, but a brilliant, impromptu one that could be used to her advantage now.

Her best chance was to continue the ruse. “I’m sorry, mother. I have already promised Herr Reiter I would spend the rest of the week with him.”

Elena dismissed the argument with a quick slash of her hand. “Cancel your plans. You must take this opportunity to get to know Hermann.”

Knowing better than to argue at this point, Katia nodded. “Let me see what I can do.”

Unused to having her wishes denied, Elena took the vague promise as complete agreement. “Good. Now that that’s settled, we would like you to join us for a celebratory supper this evening.” Supper? Tonight?

Katia couldn’t bear the idea of breaking bread with Hermann Schmidt. In truth, she feared it with all her heart. But she feared her mother being alone with the man far more. “I would like nothing better. Just give me a moment to change out of my costume.”

Without looking back, Katia fled to her dressing room. Weary from the drama of the evening, she sat staring straight ahead and rubbed her left hand as if it ached. A shocking wave of panic gripped her heart, making her breath sit heavy in her chest.

Overwhelmed, she buried her face inside her palms and fought back the tears burning behind her eyelids.

She was so…incredibly…tired.

How she wanted to accept MI6’s invitation to escape this godforsaken country and live in England for the duration of the war. But Katia couldn’t leave Germany without her mother. And Elena Kerensky would never leave. Not with her recent engagement to her childhood friend, a man who happened to be a ruthless Nazi naval officer.

How would Katia protect her mother now?

Chapter Four

After bidding Elena and her escort good night, Katia shut the door with a soft click. Pressing her eyes closed a moment, she released a sigh of frustration.

The night had gone worse than expected.

Already, she could see that Kapitän zur See Schmidt was going to be a problem. It had been foolish of her to hope otherwise.

The female in her wanted to kick something in frustration. The royal princess in her had been trained too well to give in to the childish display of emotion. The spy in her needed to quit stalling and formulate a plan.

Glancing at the mail laying on the entryway floor, she decided to ignore responsibility a little while longer. Food first, plan second. She hadn’t been able to touch her meal at the restaurant, not with Schmidt firing off pointed questions between scowls.

Clearly, the Nazi neither liked nor trusted her.

Good. At least she knew where she stood with the man. That would make her planning less complicated. She would use her fiercest weapons of cunning, lies and schemes.

Oh, but she was in a despicable business. Thankfully, she’d created many roles for use in her arsenal. By taking on other personas she kept the real Katia separate from the spy.

Rounding the corner, she caught sight of a man lounging in a chair in her east living room. Her chest rose and fell in a sudden spasm, the only outward sign of her inner distress. Otherwise, she stared at the British operative with nothing more than mild curiosity on her face.

He’d tugged his tie loose and had left the ends hanging on each side of his neck. He’d also opened the top three buttons of his shirt, revealing a smooth expanse of corded throat muscles.

Even in his relaxed position, there was a hard edge to him that somehow complemented her feminine decor. This man was one hundred percent rugged male, the quintessential alpha. Although he sat in a chair covered with pink and yellow fabric, he radiated masculinity.

Which did nothing to improve her mood.

How many surprises must she endure in one evening?

“You have exactly sixty seconds to tell me what you’re doing in my home, Herr Reiter.” The calm, detached voice was one of her most useful tools.

For an instant she thought she saw a deep male appreciation in his eyes, but he blinked and the moment was gone.

She lifted her chin a fraction higher. “Well?”

He didn’t respond. Nor did he rise to greet her, as would have been the polite thing to do. Perhaps by remaining seated he was reminding her whom he considered in charge of the mission.

Unfortunately for him, he had the particulars wrong.

“You now have twenty seconds to start talking before I throw you out of my home.”

Leaning farther back in the chair, he hooked an ankle across his knee then glanced at the clock on the mantel. “Actually, we’re now down to fifteen.”

Her earlier desire to kick something turned into an overwhelming urge to kick someone. By sheer force of will she reminded herself that this stranger was to be her partner for the next few days. Their success would bring the British closer to defeating Hitler. A heady prospect.

Katia might be able to carry out her end of the mission alone, but she needed Friedrich Reiter to deliver the plans to MI6. That did not mean, however, she had to make this conversation easy for him. “Tell me, Herr Reiter, how did you know where to find me?”

“It’s my business to know certain, shall we say…” He made a vague gesture with his hand. “Things about you.”

There was something in the way he met her gaze that brought matters to a very basic level between them. Another time she might have enjoyed the challenge of discovering the real man beneath the layer of polish and subterfuge. For now, she could only wonder what motivated him to risk his life for Great Britain. Personal gain, as most of the spies she’d met before him? Or was he answering a higher call?

Either way, the clock was ticking. She couldn’t afford the luxury of delving into his inner psyche right now.

“What sort of…things?” she asked from behind a well-positioned smile.

He slowly unfolded his large frame and rose. As he strode toward her, she shrank back a step, as much startled by her reaction to him as by the intensity in his gaze. He stopped a mere foot away from her, his heat chasing away the sudden cold that had slipped under her coat.

For one small moment, time seemed to stop and wait for him to speak.

“For instance. Your mother never joins you backstage after a performance.” His gaze stayed locked with hers.

“Never.”

Her fingers flexed by her side. Already, the man knew too much. “This evening was a rare but happy occasion.”

“Special enough for her to choose a high-ranking Kriegsmarine officer as her escort?”

Katia stiffened. She should have known he would go straight for the heart of the matter. “Hermann Schmidt is a friend of my mother’s. He is nothing to me.” She nearly spat the last of her words. But not quite.

Eyes still locked with hers, Reiter moved yet another step closer then brushed aside a strand of hair that had fallen over her eye.

Katia held perfectly still.

“Did you know that your left eyebrow twitches when you’re upset?” He tucked the hair behind her ear.

It took everything she had not to jerk beneath the impact of his soft touch. He was using familiar tricks against her, but she knew this role well. She’d worn it like a protective shield when she’d accepted the company of some of the vilest men in Germany in order to gather valuable information for the British.

The fact that Friedrich Reiter’s blatant attempt to throw her off balance was working shifted the power in his favor. “Hermann Schmidt will not be a threat to our mission. I give you my word.”

She was not surprised when he closed his hand around her arm. She was surprised, however, that his grip was gentle. In contrast, a rough warning filled his gaze before he released her.

He’d made his point.

“I trust no one’s word, Katarina.” No longer playing the role of seducer, his cold-eyed regard slid over her. “And I take nothing on faith. I believe only in my well honed ability to see through a lie.”

With the steel in his voice and the military glare in his eyes, she almost buckled. Almost.

This man was formidable.

In spite of the pounding of her heart and the bead of sweat that slid between her shoulder blades, she had to stay focused. It helped to remember that without her, there was no mission.

“Well tonight, Herr Reiter, you are misreading the signs.”

The air grew tight and heavy between them. His gaze turned harsher, deadlier, the layers of polish peeling away to reveal a cold, merciless man.

But was the transformation real or just another act? Either way, she recognized the strategy of a back-alley brawler when she saw it. If this spy expected to intimidate her with his act, he was in for a disappointment.

Jerking her chin, she swept out of his reach and began roaming through the room. Step by step, she discarded her gloves, her coat and finally her hat.

On her second pass, she strolled within inches of him, proving to them both she was back in control of her nerves.

Obviously unaware of her internal struggle, he dropped into the wingback chair closest to him and flicked on a nearby lamp. Relaxing, he watched her in a very masculine way that sent her pulse skipping fast and hard through her veins. He played this game well.

“You seem to be making yourself comfortable,” she said.

He gave her a crooked grin. The gesture transformed his features, making him look almost upright. Trustworthy. Decent?

Games inside games. Secrets inside secrets. How she hated the intrigue of espionage.

A jolt of weariness struck her then, making her feel hollow with an unfortunate mixture of exhaustion and doubt. She was not overly fond of the sensation.

“You might as well sit,” he said, indicating the chair facing him. “This could take a while.”

Knowing he was right, that the sooner they discussed their mission the better, she cleared her expression and sank into the offered seat.

Before she could settle in, his demeanor turned all business. “Tell me how you know Schmidt?”

Katia gripped the arms of the chair until her knuckles turned white from the tension. She was growing more than a little irritated by the spy’s lack of faith in her. She was the one with far too much to lose, while he would be free of this tyrannical country in a matter of days. “Hermann Schmidt is a friend of my mother’s. End of story.”

“How close are they?” he asked. Asked. Not demanded. Oh, no, nothing so crude. Had he demanded an answer from her, she would have known how to respond. But now, she was…confused. This cunning spy had his own repertoire of schemes and tricks.

With another sigh, she folded her hands in her lap and settled into their polite clash of wills. She decided to answer with the truth. “They are to be married shortly.”

“When did they become engaged?” Although his expression never changed, his voice dropped to a low, hypnotizing timbre.

Nearly seduced by the soothing tone, dangerously so, Katia barely managed to keep from gritting her teeth. She wasn’t used to handling a man this clever with his words, or this cunning with his voice. “I don’t see the point—”

“When?”

She could feel the anger in him now. This interrogation had moved to a more hostile place.

Very well.

Katia knew exactly what to do with male anger. “I don’t know, precisely.” She spread just the hint of a pout across her lips. “They only told me the happy news this evening.”

Happy news? Rage flowed through her at the ridiculous notion. The Russian Revolution had already stolen her father. And now the evil Nazi regime had its claws in her mother.

Memories of her dead father swept across her mind, coming stronger than usual tonight. No matter how illogical, she couldn’t stop torturing herself over her failure in Russia.

She’d been too small, too insignificant to challenge the revolutionists. She had prayed, though. Without ceasing. For one full year.

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—”