Kitabı oku: «Dangerous Allies», sayfa 3

“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 circumstance 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 smiled 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.

“Here’s how it’s going to work,” she said. “I get an impression of the key tonight, make a copy tomorrow, then go back the evening of the party and photograph the plans.”

“Why not just steal the plans tonight and be done with it?”

“And alert the Nazis that the British have discovered their secret weapon? No.” She shook her head. “We need to photograph the plans when no one is around and replace them exactly as we found them.”

Her plan had a simplicity to it that just might work.

“And while I’m inside Doenitz’s private quarters,” she continued, “you get to do what men do best.”

“And that is?”

“Protect my back.”

If Jack didn’t let his ego take over, he could see that her idea had possibilities. Perhaps, under all the layers of subterfuge, they thought alike. Maybe too much alike.

The woman was proving smart enough and brave enough that if he let down a little of his guard he might begin to admire her. Too risky. Emotional attachments, of any kind, were a spy’s greatest threat. Especially when he had no real reason to trust his partner.

“Your plan has merit,” he said. “But I only have two more days to get the plans and return to England. With the timeline you presented, there’s no room for mistakes.”

She nodded. “Then we make no mistakes.”

“We? Haven’t you forgotten something?”

Her brows drew together. “No, I’m pretty sure I’ve thought through all the details.”

“Your mother is throwing the party for the admiral. Your attendance at such an illustrious occasion will be expected. How are you going to pull off the last of our two trips to Wilhelmshaven while at a cocktail party in Hamburg?”

Her expression closed. “I’ll handle my mother. She won’t even miss me.”

“And her fiancé? Somehow, I doubt he’ll be so…inattentive.”

“I’ll deal with him, as well.”

He gave her a doubtful glare.

“You’re going to have to trust me.”

Trust. It always came back to trust. But Jack had lost that particular quality, along with his faith in God, the same night the real Reiter had come for his blood.

“And if you’re caught tonight?” he asked in a deceptively calm voice.

“I won’t be.”

“If you are.”

She lifted her chin, looking every bit a woman with royal blood running through her veins. “Failure is never an option.”

Jack’s sentiments exactly.

If he took out the personal elements running thick between them and ignored the fact that Kerensky was a woman—a woman he couldn’t completely trust—not only could her plan work, but it had a very high probability of success.

Her voice broke through his thoughts. “It’s getting late. The drive to Wilhelmshaven will take almost two hours each way.”

He glanced at his watch, looked at her evening gown and jewels then down at his own tuxedo. “We both need to change.”

“Yes. We’ll take my car, which is still at the theater.” Which they both knew was only three blocks from her home.

“Right, then. We’ll meet outside the theater at—” he began before he checked his watch again “—0130 hours. I trust that suits you?”

Head high, she moved to the front door and jerked it open without looking back at him. “Of course.”

He reached around her and swung the door shut with a bang.

She spun about to glare at him. “What are you doing?”

Reminding us both who’s in control.

With nothing showing on his face, he angled his forearm against the wall above her head and waited until her eyes lifted to his. “I leave the way I came.”

She took a hard breath but held his gaze. For an instant, he was struck again by her determination and courage.

The back of his throat began to burn.

“Then I drive,” she said without blinking.

“By all means.” He pushed away and headed toward the open window, but then he surprised them both by returning to her and cupping her cheek. “I’m warning you now, Katarina. At the first sign of trouble, we abort. No questions asked.”

“Whatever you say, Herr Reiter.” The mutinous light in her eyes ruined any pretense of compliance on her part.

Jack sensed he was in serious trouble with this woman. He had to get matters back in his control. “One more thing,” he said.

She angled her head at him.

“Make sure you dress warmly.” He shifted to the window, dipped and then swung his leg over the ledge. “It’s going to be a long, chilly night.”

Chapter Six

The drive to Wilhelmshaven began in silence, and continued that way for most of the journey. Sitting in the passenger’s seat, Jack surveyed the passing landscape. There was no horizon, no clear distinction between land and sky, just an inky blend of dark and darker. An occasional shadow slid out of the night, only to retreat as they sped by. Wind shrieked through the invisible slits of the car’s windows.

Concentrating on the road, Kerensky drove cautiously, with both hands on the wheel. She hadn’t looked at Jack since they’d left the city limits of Hamburg. Which was just as well. Between the poor quality of the road and the poorer quality of the car’s headlights, driving required her undivided attention.

He took the opportunity to study her out of the corner of his eye. She was dressed head to toe in black wool. Black pants, black sweater, black gloves—the perfect ensemble for blending with the night. She’d slicked her thick, fiery hair off her face and twisted it into an intricate braid that hung halfway down her back.

He could almost feel the vibration of her carefully contained energy. Like a sleek, untamed animal poised for a fight.

She baffled him, tugged at him. She had a face meant for the movies and was so lovely his chest ached every time he looked at her. But he also knew how much depth lay below that exquisite surface.

Never once had he caught a hint of the corruption or selfishness that drove most spies. His instincts told him that she had her own personal agenda for working with the British. Those same instincts also told him that her motivation was connected to a dark secret she kept well hidden from the world.

He understood all about dark secrets and hidden motives, as well as the moral confusion that came from lying and stealing every day. For too many years, Jack had relinquished his Christian integrity—no, his very soul—to carry out other men’s agendas. German. American. What did it matter if he was Jack Anderson, Friedrich Reiter, or someone else entirely? One face, two names, no identity. Those were the legacies the bureaucrats had created for him.

Now this woman, with her strength and determination, made him think beyond the mindless killing machine he’d become. She made him toy with the idea of a future beyond the war. He suddenly wanted something…more. More than hate. More than vengeance. Something that went beyond his own humanity.

Worst of all, the woman made him hope for a better world, where belief in God meant something beyond a faded memory.

This was the wrong business to feel emotions, any emotion, especially ones that made him soft toward a woman.

“You’re too beautiful,” he blurted out.

She whipped her head around so their gazes met in the dim light.

She gave a deep sigh of frustration before returning her attention to the road. “It’s called heredity.”

Heredity. Right. The word tugged at a thought hovering in the back of his mind. Jack forced himself to remember he was having this conversation for her benefit. “Your beauty could be used against you.” He’d seen it often enough.

“Or to my advantage. Lucky for you, there’s more to me than a pretty face.” She sounded weary, as though she’d given this speech countless times before.

Jack wasn’t impressed. He was responsible for keeping them both alive. He had to be able to predict her behavior and gauge what she would do if she ended up in a crisis. “This mission depends on your quick reflexes and ability to think on your feet. For at least five minutes you’ll be alone inside the Kriegsmarine headquarters.”

“I’ll only need three.”

He did his best not to react to her bravado. “Wrong attitude. You can’t be impatient. Impatient equals careless. And careless equals one dead female spy.”

A nerve flexed in her jaw. “Have I given you the impression that I’m stupid?”

“One mistake is all it takes.”

“It won’t be mine.”

She returned to clenching her teeth.

He returned to holding on to his temper.

“Fancy words, Kerensky. Will you be able to back them up?”

He didn’t know her well enough to judge for himself. And for five long minutes he would be unable to control the situation, unable to protect her if Admiral Doenitz awakened. Jack knew she was hiding something from him. And he thought he knew exactly what it was.

Heredity.

If he was right, the woman could not be caught. Ever.

He knew what they would do to her, where they would send her.

No emotion. He reminded himself of his personal motto that kept him alive. Nothing personal.

Who was he kidding? “How much Jewish blood runs in your veins?”

Her sharp intake of air was barely audible, but he’d heard it all the same. Already knowing the answer, he found himself holding his breath, waiting for her response to his bold question with a mixture of dread and hope. When she held to her silence, he wondered if he might have been wrong in his assessment.

Jack Anderson was never wrong. “How much?”

Her hands tensed on the wheel, the only sign of her agitation. Making a soft sound of irritation, she adjusted herself with a swoosh of wool against leather. “We do not speak of these things in Germany. We do not even whisper them in the dark confines of a car.”

He had no easy response. She was right, of course. Even if she was only part Jewish she could not reveal such a secret to him.

No emotion, he reminded himself again. Nothing personal.

“Consider the subject closed,” he said.

She locked her gaze with his for a full heartbeat, two. Three. Then she began a very slow, very thorough once-over of him. Since the road ahead of them was long and straight, he sat perfectly still under her perusal. He owed her that much at least.

Eventually, she turned her head back to the road. “We’re nearly there. Soon, this will all be a distant memory for us both.”

Jack took a hard breath. He wished he could ignore the risks of going through the front door with nothing more than a loaded gun. This would be a good time for prayer, if he was still a praying man. “Are you sure I won’t fit through the window?”

She snatched her eyes off the road, looked at his chest and then shook her head. “You won’t.”

Her voice sounded strong, confident, but she looked bleak. And her hands shook slightly.

Was she having second thoughts? Had he thrown her off balance by accusing her of being a Jew?

He knew touching her was a bad idea. Don’t do it, he told himself. She is not a harmless female. Not this one.

He ignored his own warning and reached out, lightly fingering a lock of hair that had come loose from her braid.

She took a shuddering breath.

He dropped his hand. “I don’t like the idea of sending you in there alone.”

Her shoulders stiffened and all signs of her distress disappeared. “We’ve been through this already. I’m going into that room, end of discussion.”

“What discussion?” he muttered.

She flipped him a smug look. “Exactly.”

“Careful, Kerensky.” Jack jammed a hand through his hair. “You’re treading on razor-thin ice with me.”

She bared her teeth. “Good thing I’m light on my feet.”

“You’re a difficult woman.”

“So I’ve been told.” She cleared her expression and pointed ahead of her. “Look up there, on your right. The harbor.”

In the next instant, before he could stop her, she swung the car down a dark alley and cut the engine.

The night swallowed them, pitching the interior of the car into blinding darkness. A hot, nagging itch settled in his gut.

Unable to make out anything other than a heavy nothingness, Jack squinted into the eerie gloom. Still…nothing.

A sudden blast of anger left his nerves raw.

It was too dark. Too remote. Too isolated.

He’d allowed Kerensky to park the car facing toward the back of the alley. If an ambush awaited them, there would be no getting out alive. Very, very stupid.

He touched the panel in his sweater where he’d sewn a cyanide pill into the stitching. Trained to choose death over revealing secrets, Jack Anderson knew his duty. He’d seen men with stronger convictions break. He’d seen innocent men break, too. Jack would not join their ranks. Too many lives were at stake. The Nazis could never be allowed to get to the information he had stored in his head.

Suicide was the only solution. His own damnation was well worth the lives he would save with his permanent silence.

Tonight, however, there was a woman’s life at stake. He would make sure the choice between disclosure and death never happened. Jack would do what he must to ensure the cyanide pill made it through another mission unused.

“Turn the car facing out,” he said, his voice flat and hard.

“What?”

“Either do what I say, or I do it myself.”

“I…” She shifted in her seat, then sighed. “Of course. I wasn’t thinking.” Her voice held a slight shake, as though she’d stunned herself with her thoughtless behavior.

Another act? Or was she still upset over their conversation about her “heredity”? Upset enough to make a mistake in the admiral’s room, as well?

Before he could question her, she started the engine and put the car in gear. Jack stayed planted in his seat as she made quick work of the direction change.

Once she threw the brake, a thin bar of light from a nearby streetlight slid across the front of the car’s hood.

Better.

“Do you want to go over the hand signals one last time?” he asked, relief making his voice softer.

“No.” She cut the engine again, tapped her temple two times. “Got it all in here.”

Jack plucked the keys out of her hand before she could pocket them.

“What are you doing?” she growled.

Hardheaded, inflexible, full of pride. Did everything have to be a battle with her?

“You can’t carry these with you.” He jingled the keys in front of her nose. “Too much noise. And if you’re caught or hurt or any number of possibilities, I’ll need to be able to drive the car out of here.”

She opened her mouth to argue. Again.

He merely looked at her.

Her snort was quick and full of wounded pride. “It must be quite a burden, being perfect all the time.”

“You have no idea.”

“Humble, too.”

He ignored her goading. “Details are the most important aspect of any mission. Forget just one and a man or—” he gave her a meaningful look “—a woman will end up dead before there’s a chance to rethink the situation.”

“So you’re the detail man.” A statement, not a question.

Jack allowed himself a smile. “For better or worse, Kerensky, tonight we’re a team. You might as well accept it.”

And so should you, he told himself, as he tucked the keys underneath the driver’s seat. “Let’s go.”

Nodding, she picked up the black knit cap sitting on the seat next to her and began tucking her braid into it. Her eyes took on the excited gleam of a child’s at Christmas. “Curtain up.”

Such eagerness to get the job done, such conviction. I remember feeling that once, a lifetime ago, Jack thought.

Where did my convictions go? When did they go? The answer was simple enough. The day the Nazis sent the real Friedrich Reiter to kill him.

Lord, he started to pray, then cut himself off. This was a time for action, not a time for useless prayer that would bring no immediate help to the mission.

Jack gave Kerensky a sharp nod. “Let’s go.”

As one, they climbed out of the car and snapped shut their respective doors without making a sound.

A few steps and the cloak of the alley’s gloom lifted. Icy damp air hit Jack’s face as it sliced off the sea. Sand and wet leaves waltzed around his ankles and clung.

Kerensky repositioned her hat. Jack took a moment to check his weapon, a 9 mm Luger P08—the most effective German handgun available. He examined the magazine, a simple eight-round in-line box, and then clicked the safety mechanism in place.

Kerensky’s eyes lingered on his gun’s tip. “Do you really think that’s necessary?”

“You don’t?”

She took a steadying breath. “I—”

“This isn’t make-believe, Katarina. And I won’t give false assurances. Get that straight right now. Bad guys with guns are out there.” He hitched his shoulder toward the harbor.

Dragging her eyes away from his weapon, she looked at him dead-on. “And you always go in prepared. Is that it?”