The Iron Storm

by CW Browning

  “I understand why you didn’t.” He glanced at her. “Marie isn’t your real name, is it?”

  “No.”

  “Will I ever learn your real name?”

  Evelyn hesitated, then shook her head. Before she could say anything, a shiver of awareness streaked down her spine. It was the same feeling she’d had several times, all when someone was following her. With a sudden frown, she turned her head to look behind them. Fear made her throat constrict at the sight of a tall man in a long coat moving silently down the narrow path behind him. A soft gasp escaped her and her stomach lurched. Suddenly she knew, without even the shadow of a doubt, that the man was coming after them. Without thinking, she grabbed Jens’ hand.

  “Run!!”

  Hans threw away his cigarette and straightened up when the side door to the house opened and the couple emerged. There was no sign of Asp, but that meant nothing to Voss. If they were coming out the side door, Jian still had the package. And that was all he cared about.

  Eisenjager got out of his car and crossed the road swiftly, bringing a scowl to Hans’ face. The assassin was after the man, but once he got a good look at the woman’s face, he would recognize her for who she was. Hans had to reach her before that happened.

  Turning, he ran to the end of the narrow alley where he’d left his car. He would head the couple off. The alley they were in opened onto a street at the edge of the small town. He would drive around and stop them there. Hopefully, he would get there before Eisenjager. The engine roared to life and he pulled away from the mouth of the alley, turning left at the end of the road. The assassin was welcome to the man, but Voss would be damned before he let him get to the English spy first. Pressing his foot on the gas, he sped past Asp’s street and came up to the road where the alley would lead the couple. He rounded the corner just in time to see them run across the street and disappear between two houses.

  Voss let out a low curse as Eisenjager followed a few seconds later. There was nothing behind those houses but fields, and Hans knew that those fields wouldn’t afford any protection until they reached a tree line at least half a mile away. He could stop them in the fields.

  A moment later, he was rounding the corner and staring at wide, flat meadows before him. A rough track separated the fields from the two houses they had fled between, and Voss rolled to a stop on the uneven dirt road, staring out over the expanse of grass and brush. He got out of the car with a frown, straining to see in the darkness. Behind him, Eisenjager emerged from the narrow space between the two houses, breathing heavily.

  “Where are they?” he gasped, seeing Voss standing beside his car.

  “They’re not here,” Hans answered, rounding the hood of his car. “I don’t see them in the field.”

  “They must be!” Eisenjager stared out into the moonlit field, a scowl on his face as he tried to catch his breath. “They came down this way. There’s nowhere else for them to have gone!”

  “You don’t see them, do you?” Hans snapped. “They’re not out there.”

  They stared at each other, then turned slowly to look at the houses behind them. One was dark and silent while the other was ablaze with light.

  “If they didn’t come out from the alley, they must have gone into one of the houses,” Eisenjager said. “I was right behind them. I know they didn’t go back.”

  “I’ll check the dark house,” Hans decided, starting towards it. “It looks empty. They may be hiding inside. You check the other one. The owner is obviously still awake. Perhaps he saw something.”

  Eisenjager didn’t answer but instead went towards the other house. Voss didn’t spare another glance for the assassin as he went back into the narrow lane between the two houses. Light from the one on his right allowed him to see somewhat in the dark space, but he pulled a flashlight from his coat pocket anyway. Switching it on, he shone it around the alley and then over the side of the dark and quiet house. Either it was empty or the owners were away, he decided. If it was the first, there would be no problem searching it for the missing couple.

  Hans went further into the alleyway and his light fell on stone steps leading below ground level to a door slightly ajar. He smiled coldly. They had gone into the dark house, just as he suspected.

  Moving forward, he went down the steps quickly and pushed the door open, stepping into a pitch black basement. He slid his hand into his pocket and pulled out a pistol, holding it in one hand as he shone the light around the cold interior. The ceiling was low, and the floor was dirt, hard-packed over time until it resembled rough laid cement. There were no furnishings or boxes, nowhere for them to hide. The large, square space was empty, save for a wooden staircase leading to a door in the far corner.

  Hans crossed the basement and went up the stairs, trying the door quietly. It opened easily when he turned the knob and he pushed it open, wincing at the loud creak the old hinges made as the door swung wide. Tightening his grip on the gun, Hans stepped into a narrow corridor that smelled strongly of must and damp. Playing his light up and down the corridor, he saw nothing but old, peeling wallpaper and dirt. Not only was the house empty, but it hadn’t been lived in in quite some time. He nodded and moved down the corridor towards a room at the end. They had to be hiding in here somewhere.

  All he had to do was find them.

  Eisenjager knocked on the back door of the house with lights streaming from all the windows and brushed his hair back into place with a quick movement of his hand. As much as he didn’t want to be seen, he wanted to find the couple more. If that meant speaking to a resident, so be it.

  It was a few minutes and a second knock later that he finally heard the lock clicking. The door opened a second later and a man dressed in an old smoking jacket over gray trousers peered out, a pipe hanging out of his mouth. He blinked at the sight of Eisenjager standing on his back step and pulled the pipe out.

  “Yes?”

  “I apologize for disturbing you so late,” Eisenjager said in French. “I’m passing through the village on my way to Paris and was stopped on the street looking at a map when I saw two people run down the alley between your house and the one next to you. They seemed to me to be acting suspiciously, so I got out to follow them. It appears that they may have broken into the house next to you.”

  “Oh my!” The man exclaimed, his face creased in concern. “That’s alarming.”

  “I thought so, which is why I thought I’d warn you. Have you heard anything or seen anything?”

  “No. I’ve been in the front room reading and listening to the radio.” The man sucked on his pipe and shook his head. “I would have heard something if they’d tried to come in here, I’m sure. They must be next door. That house is empty, you know. It has been for years. It was only a matter of time before something like this happened, I suppose.”

  “It was a couple,” Eisenjager said after a moment of thought. “I suppose if the house has been empty for a long time, they could have gone in there for...well, a rendezvous.”

  The man with the pipe grinned and nodded. “More than likely,” he agreed. “They still shouldn’t be trespassing, though. Someone really should go for the police.”

  His tone was one of suggestion, and he made no indication that he was prepared to do so himself. Eisenjager chuckled and rubbed his neck in a seemingly embarrassed gesture.

  “Oh, I’m sure that’s not necessary for a couple trying to find some privacy,” he said. “Perhaps I was being overly cautious. I was concerned that they might be trying to rob you, you see, but if you haven’t heard or seen anything, I’m sure I was mistaken.”

  “Well, you can always set your mind at ease and go next door,” the man said, nodding in that direction. “The basement door is open. The lock was broken months ago and it won’t stay closed now. I’m sure that’s where they went.”

  Eisenjager nodded and touched his hat. “I’ll do that. I’m sorry to have disturbed you.”

  He turned away from the door as the man nodded and closed
it, locking it again. Anger, hot and furious, rolled through him as he went around the corner of the house and into the narrow alley. They were gone. He knew it in his gut. He’d lost not only the Belgian, but also the woman. Another wave of fury went over him.

  It was unacceptable! This was only the second time in his career that he’d lost his target, and the woman was involved both times! He’d recognized her in the alley outside Asp’s house. When she had turned to look behind her, the face of the English spy he’d lost in Norway had looked back at him. He’d been shocked, giving her the few seconds she needed to grab her companion’s hand and begin running. Those few seconds were all it took to ensure that he didn’t have a clean shot to either of them, even with his longer range, high-powered pistol.

  And then Voss had compounded matters by driving his car right down the road towards them, alerting them to the fact that there were two people following them. If it hadn’t been for Voss and his black sedan, they would have tried for the field, and then he could have followed. As it was, they had wisely decided not to race a car, and now they’d disappeared. He’d have to start all over again.

  If he’d known Jian was Voss’s courier, he would have approached this entire thing differently. Voss would never have been given the opportunity to interfere. The Englishwoman was the responsibility of the Abwehr alone, and they had assigned her elimination to him. If he’d known she was here, Voss would have been ordered back to Berlin, and he would have both targets neutralized by now. Instead, he was facing an empty alley. Fury washed over him once more, and Eisenjager clenched his jaw.

  Light emerged from the base of a stone stair and Voss came up from the open door of the empty house. The look on his face was grim and when he saw Eisenjager, he glowered.

  “They’re not in there,” he said. “The house is empty. Did you find out anything useful next door?”

  “No. The owner didn’t hear or see anything.”

  Voss cursed and the two men started back towards the car in the lane behind them.

  “They can’t just disappear, yet that’s exactly what they did,” Hans muttered. “They definitely didn’t come out of that alleyway.”

  “They must have,” Eisenjager snapped. “Humans don’t disappear. They aren’t ghosts.”

  “You saw the field yourself. There was no one in it!” Hans wrenched open his door, motioning for Eisenjager to get into the passenger side. “I’ll take you back to your car.”

  They got in and he started the engine, glancing at the assassin beside him. “They’re on foot, and this village isn’t big,” he said after a moment of reflection. “We should be able to find them between the two of us. They can’t get far without a vehicle.”

  “They have a vehicle.”

  Voss frowned. “What?”

  “They have a car. A blue Citroen. It’s the man’s.”

  “Then we look for a blue Citroen. In a town this size, it shouldn’t be hard.”

  Eisenjager looked out the window. He was right. It shouldn’t be hard at all to find a blue Citroen with Belgian plates in a little village like this. His mood lightened. Perhaps he could still get his target after all.

  As long as no one interfered again, he could have the Englishwoman by morning.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Evelyn stood perfectly still in the darkness, hardly daring to breathe as she listened to the conversation at the back door. She and Jens were concealed in the pantry off the kitchen accessed by going down three stone steps. The door at the top of the steps was closed and locked, but light shone through the crack between the floor and the door. A shadow had crossed in front of the pantry on the way to answer the insistent knocking, and now she strained to listen to the conversation, her heart pounding. She could only make out a few words through the heavy door, but they were enough to convince her that the man outside was German. The accent was unmistakable, at least to her.

  Jens stood unmoving beside her and she could hear his shallow breathing as he struggled to catch his breath. He was still breathless. For that matter, so was she. They had run for all they were worth with the tall man closing the distance between them. Evelyn was sure he was going to catch them when they ran down the alleyway. In fact, she still wasn’t sure that they were safe.

  The SS had found her after all. They must have been watching Asp, waiting for her to show up. But how did they know she would go there? They had to have been only guessing that she would pass the packet on to him, but it seemed like an awfully large risk. It was one she wasn’t sure she would have taken. Yet it had paid off for them. She had shown up, and they had almost trapped her. While the tall man chased them on foot, another one was in a black sedan. He had turned into the road just as they were crossing to go into the alleyway. She hadn’t been able to get a good look at him, but the car had Belgian tags on it. It wasn’t a local returning home late that had tried to cut them off at the field.

  The conversation at the back door ended and she heard the click of the door closing, and then the sound of footsteps crossing the kitchen. She and Jens stood listening to the ensuing silence. The seconds ticked by and he looked at her, nodding to the door. Evelyn shook her head, motioning to wait a minute longer. After what seemed like an eternity, the footsteps returned to the kitchen. A shadow appeared beneath the door and the lock was unlatched. The door swung open and light poured into the darkness, making her blink in the sudden brightness.

  “You can come out now,” the man with the pipe told them, motioning them out. “They’re gone.”

  “Are you sure?” Jens asked, going up the steps.

  “I watched them drive away.” The man watched them climb out of the pantry and closed the door after them. “They may come back, though. You must leave quickly.”

  Evelyn looked at him and nodded. “Yes. Thank you for everything, Marcel.”

  Marcel waved her thanks away. “Did Asp seem suspicious of the package I made?”

  “He didn’t even look at it,” Jens told him. “He just put it away. Unfortunately, he was suspicious of Marie.”

  Marcel frowned. “What happened?”

  “It’s my fault. She introduced herself as Annette, but then I slipped and started to call her Marie. It turns out he already knew the SS were looking for a woman named Marie who had traveled from Brussels.”

  “They must have been there earlier.” Marcel looked from one to the other. “What did you do? How did you convince him that he was wrong?”

  “We didn’t.” Evelyn sank onto the edge of a seat at the kitchen table. “He tried to...well, to be honest, I’m not sure what he tried to do. He lunged for me, and before any of us knew what was happening, he had pulled a gun.”

  “What?!”

  “Jens struggled with him,” she said, suddenly very tired. “He lost his footing and fell, hitting his head on the mantel first and then falling on the fireplace poker. Asp is dead.”

  Marcel stared at her, speechless. Jens moved to stand beside her, laying his hand on her shoulder.

  “It was an accident,” he told Marcel defensively. “He was trying to strangle me and I pushed him away. He tripped and fell backwards. I couldn’t stop it.”

  “My God,” Marcel breathed, running a hand through his hair. “What did you do with him?”

  “What could we do? We left him there.”

  Marcel turned to pace across the kitchen restlessly, then turned back, a worried frown on his face.

  “I can’t pretend to be upset, and I know there won’t be many in this village who will be, but the police will have to investigate. Between the SS and the police, you must move quickly and get out of the area.” He looked at Jens. “We have to assume that the Germans know your car. You can’t take it. It will be too risky. They might be looking for it.”

  “But we can’t walk to Paris!” Evelyn exclaimed. “We have to take the car!”

  He shook his head. “No. Leave the car here and take mine.”

  “We can’t do that! You’ll be in danger if
they see the car here.”

  Marcel went over to a hook on the wall and took down a set of keys.

  “They won’t see it. I’ll cover it and leave it where I usually park mine. No one will even notice. Our cars are about the same size.” He carried the keys over to Jens and held them out. “You must take it!” he insisted when Jens hesitated. “Go to my flat in Paris. I’ll come as soon as it’s safe. We’ll switch cars again then.”

  “Are you sure?” Jens asked, taking the keys. “What if the Germans get past Sedan and cross the Meuse tonight?”

  “Then you’ll see me sooner,” Marcel replied dryly. “Now hurry. You must leave before they return, and I have to get your car covered and out of sight.”

  He went over to a pad on the counter and scrawled an address on it, tearing the piece of paper off.

  “Here’s the address in Paris.” He handed it to Evelyn with a smile. “I’m sure you’ll know just where it is.”

  She looked down at the address and nodded. “I know this area.”

  “I thought you might. Now you both must go. I’ll meet you there in a few days.”

  Evelyn stood up and she and Jens turned towards the door. As she reached it, she turned back and held out her hand.

  “Thank you,” she said, her eyes meeting his. “For everything. Without your warning, I would not have been prepared.”

  He smiled and shook her hand. “Oh, I think you would have managed just fine,” he said slowly. “You’re stronger than you think.” He looked over to Jens and held out his hand. “You both are, even though I know you don’t feel that at the moment.”

  “No, I don’t,” Jens admitted, shaking his hand.

  “I know. Just remember that this, too, will pass, and you will be even stronger for it. Now go. And God speed to you.”

  Paris, France

  May 13

  Late afternoon sun was pouring through the tall windows in the living room, filling the spacious room with light, when Evelyn walked in. She smiled at the sight of Jens fast asleep on the sofa. It was much too short for him and his legs hung over one end, sending a wave of remorse through her. They had arrived at Jean-Pierre’s apartment in the early hours of the morning, exhausted, and she had taken the bedroom without thinking. Now, looking at how uncomfortable Jens looked, Evelyn felt sorry for not offering to sleep on the couch. She would have been uncomfortable, but at least her legs wouldn’t have hung over the end.