Hand Grenade Helen

by Liliana Hart

  Pierre reached down to pick it up and ran his finger under the seal. “Our presence is requested tomorrow night at nine o’clock for a formal gathering to recognize the arrival of his special guest, General Christoph Kuehler.” Pierre stepped forward and pulled me into his arms, and I could feel his breath against my ear. “And if I recall, Captain Rolfe’s borrowed abode has gardens that back up to Lisi Kamień Park.”

  My lips touched the pulse in his neck as I whispered, “That sounds like a convenient way to leave Waldenburg.” My heart was pounding in my chest, and the time I was spending in such close proximity to an equally fascinating, yet aggravating, man was starting to get to me.

  He took a step back, still holding up the invitation, and he said, “And look, this is stationary from my shop. Beautiful, isn’t it?”

  The Party

  I’d decided on a strapless formal gown in black that had intricate lacework across the bust and bodice. It was a little snug across my chest, but of all the selections in the closet it was the easiest one to move in and I’d always found black to be the best concealment for nighttime activities or blood. And I figured our future would hold the need for both.

  “Lovely dress you’re hardly wearing,” Pierre said once I came out of the bedroom.

  “Thank you, darling,” I said. “If you play your cards right I’ll let you find out what’s under it later tonight.”

  He blew out a breath. “It can’t be much.”

  “Exactly,” I purred and moved past him toward the door. “Let’s go. You know I hate to be late for a good party. And I’ve heard from everyone that Captain Rolfe’s are the best.”

  Pierre helped me drape the fur wrap over my shoulders, and I pulled on my long black gloves.

  “You look very dashing yourself,” I said.

  “If you play your cards right I’ll let you find out what I’m wearing underneath later tonight.”

  I laughed out loud at his playfulness, and it wasn’t an act. I wasn’t used to men like Pierre—a man who didn’t try to seduce me at every turn—a man who looked at my face instead of undressing me with his eyes. It was a breath of fresh air and an annoyance all at the same time. We’d been in each other’s company for more than a week now, sleeping next to each other, pretending to be husband and wife. I’d be lying if part of me wondered if he found me attractive. Or maybe he wasn’t interested in women at all.

  When we stepped outside to our car there were more soldiers next door than usual, and all of them looked my direction. They’d heard Pierre’s comment about the dress I was hardly wearing and obviously had come to see for themselves.

  I gave them a smile as Pierre helped me into the car, and then he addressed a few of them by name before getting behind the wheel. The drive to Captain Rolfe’s was short, as it was just at the end of the boulevard and across the square.

  There was a procession of cars waiting their turn for guests to be let out at the front door. The house shone like a beacon in the darkness—every light on each floor turned on—and a huge flag with the Nazi regalia hung down the front of the house like a banner.

  “Are you ready?” Pierre asked. “You’ve been very quiet.”

  “I’m ready,” I said. “It’s just sinking in that this is the end.”

  “Will you miss me, darling?” he asked, cheekily.

  I fluttered my lashes and said, “Of course. How could I possibly go on without you?” But there was part of me that wondered if it was true. And by the expression on his face, I wondered if he knew exactly what I was feeling.

  “How were you able to get our supplies hidden?” I asked, changing the subject. “Are you sure no one saw you.”

  “Oh, everyone saw me,” he said. “But they didn’t know what I was doing. There’s an SOE agent who works as a nurse at the hospital, and she and I have been known to be seen together from time to time during your absence. I’m a cad, darling, you’ll have to forgive me.”

  “Mmm,” I said, looking out the window.

  “But her home is conveniently located on the side street facing city hall and this house,” he said. “And her back door leads out into the woods. So I’m sure anyone who saw my car parked in her driveway early yesterday thought nothing of it. And I was able to slip out the back and hide our supplies and the explosives.”

  “It’s nice that you play so many steps ahead in this game of chess,” I told him. “Your skill is rare.”

  “You have it as well.”

  “I know,” I told him. “Which is why it’s nice to work with someone else who can do it. Though it makes me feel as if I’m not pulling my weight.”

  “I’ve been in this cover a long time,” he said. “Almost to the point where this identity has become easier than my old one. I’ve had time to plan my moves and orchestrate the cast of players and assess potential fallout from any given decision or situation. But you were the missing piece. This is a two-person job. I knew that even if I didn’t like it. I prefer to work on my own.”

  I nodded, understanding. “Because then you have only yourself to count on.”

  “Exactly,” he said. “But sometimes the job calls for something more. Your reputation preceded you. I’d heard rumors of you before I ever read your file. They said you were fearless and ruthless, and sometimes reckless. But that you were brilliant and loyal and determined. They said when it came down to the wire, that you could make the hard choices. And I knew because of the betrayal you’d experienced that you’d be more sensitive to those working around us.

  “I’ve been here a year. I’m used to seeing the same faces day in and day out. But it’s the same faces that can stick a knife in your back. I knew you’d bring the fresh perspective I needed. I saw how you looked at Gregor and Anna. I’d have been disappointed if you hadn’t looked at them that way. Though I can assure you’ve they’ve more than proven themselves an ally to the SOE through great personal tragedy of their own.”

  “Why are you telling me this?” I asked curiously.

  “I don’t know,” he said, shrugging. “But it seems fitting considering we could be dead before morning. I just wanted you to know that it has been a pleasure to work with you. And whatever happens on that train, I trust you’ll do the job. But if something happens to me or I’m wounded…”

  “You want me to leave you behind,” I said knowingly. “And you’ll do the same if something happens to me.”

  “Yes,” he said. “This is not the business for personal attachments.”

  I smiled then. “I don’t think I was put on this earth to have personal attachments with anyone. Some of us aren’t so lucky.”

  “Or maybe we are the lucky ones.”

  I reached over and held my hand out, waiting until his fingers twined with mine. “Whatever the case,” I said. “The pleasure has been mine. I’ll buy the first round after the war is over.”

  “That’s a deal,” he said, just as he parked the car in front of the mansion.

  Uniformed men opened each of our doors, and I held out my hand to be helped out of the car. It was glamour and glitz, and it reminded me of France before the invasion. The guests were here to be seen and photographed, and I wasn’t sure Hollywood could have done a better job.

  A party of this size and extravagance costs money, and it was something of a slap in the face to all the people who were sacrificing clothes and food because of the shortages. I didn’t know where Captain Rolfe’s funding came from, but he obviously wanted to impress General Kuehler. And from what I’d seen, a man who had funding and wanted to impress his superiors generally had his own political delusions of grandeur.

  Pierre handed our invitation to the man at the door, and I shrugged out of my fur stole and handed it to the man checking coats. His gaze was glued to my dress and he dropped the fur twice before finally figuring out how to drape it on the hangar.

  “I don’t think he was prepared for you,” Pierre whispered, putting his hand on my back.

  I leaned into him and said, “Dar
ling, men never are.”

  “You do look lovely,” he said. “It’s quite nice to have the most beautiful woman in the world on my arm. But also inconvenient. Because that means we’ll be wildly popular tonight.”

  “Who are all these people?” I whispered as we moved to the top of the staircase that led into the ballroom. “I don’t recognize anyone.”

  An orchestra played a waltz and the lights from the chandeliers glittered on the heads of the elite as they floated across the floor. The French doors had all been thrown open so a cool breeze swept into the overheated room, and lanterns lit the garden romantically.

  “You might see a familiar face or two,” Pierre said. “But there are dignitaries here from all over Germany. This is not a local gathering. Captain Rolfe has plans for his career that I think Hitler has not been made aware of. But he’ll know after tonight.”

  “And how did we get invited to an event such as this?” I asked.

  “Because we have someone on the inside who made sure we got an invitation,” he said. “Rolfe won’t think anything of it. I’ve been donating handsomely to his secret campaign fund, and filling his head with aspirations far beyond his grasp. But his ego is large, so it’s not such a hard task.”

  A waiter passed with glasses of champagne on his tray and Pierre grabbed two, passing one to me. And then he held out his arm and I hooked my hand in the crook of his elbow as he led me down the wide curved staircase.

  “I know many of these faces,” he said in a low voice. “Everyone here is clawing for something—like a bushel of crabs waiting to pull down whoever is closest to the top. They’re brutal and ruthless, and decadence and deviance are their vices. Hitler has lost control of this part of the country from within his own ranks. They’ll stage a coup soon. But in the meantime, do not leave my side, not even to go to the powder room. The men here will not think twice about taking what isn’t theirs. You’ll start to see the façade of niceties fade as the drinks flow more freely and inhibitions are lost.”

  “Then it looks like we have some time to kill,” I said. “What should we do?”

  “I say we dance and look like two people who are very much in love,” Pierre said. “Rolfe keeps looking in our direction. He’s taken with you. But for tonight, we’ll only have eyes for each other.”

  The Escape

  There’d be no going back to the quaint apartment where Pierre and I had played at being husband and wife. I knew that, so I clung even harder to him as we swayed in time to the music.

  “Are you ready?” he whispered in my ear, touching the small of my back lightly.

  “Always,” I said, looking up at him seductively, a small curve on my lips.

  He’d been right about the decadence and deviance coming to light the longer the drinks flowed. I’d watched countless couples disappear to upstairs rooms, the gardens, or even the curtained alcoves at the edge of the ballroom.

  I hadn’t left Pierre’s side, just as he’d instructed, and I appreciated his wisdom. More than once a man had cut into our dancing and tried to whisk me off the dance floor, only to be stopped by Pierre. For anyone who saw us, we looked like a devoted couple who couldn’t wait to be alone together.

  Captain Rolfe’s party was exactly what we needed to make our escape.

  Pierre leaned down to kiss me, fitting my body against his snugly. There were other couples on the dance floor, but I saw only him, and inch by inch we danced our way toward the open French doors.

  “Peter,” Captain Rolfe said, intercepting us before we could disappear. “I would like to introduce you to some friends of mine. I think you’ll find them well connected and important to know.”

  “Of course,” Pierre said smoothly. “Helen and I were just about to take a stroll through the gardens.”

  His finger rubbed hypnotically across my shoulder, and he leaned in to kiss my temple. Rolfe would have had to have been a fool not to realize what he was interrupting.

  “I see,” Rolfe said, arching a brow and then eyeing my décolletage with something sinister in his gaze. “I’m going to gather the others. I’ll meet you in my office in half an hour. That should give you plenty of time to enjoy the...” his gaze swept over my body again and I resisted the urge to shudder. “Gardens,” he finished.

  “I’ll meet you there,” Pierre said, nodding his head in thanks, and then leading me through the doors and onto the balcony.

  There was only the shadow of a moon, and lanterns lit the gardens in a soft and secret glow. I heard rustles and giggles from the shrubbery, but Pierre took my hand and we hurried down cobbled paths like naughty children. He swept me into his arms and into a kiss in full view of the house. I’d felt Rolfe’s eyes on us as we’d walked away, and I knew he was still watching.

  “The gazebo,” Pierre whispered, nipping at my lip.

  I shivered. There was something exhilarating about being in Pierre’s arms—danger and daring and romance—I was completely swept away.

  He maneuvered us through the arched door of the gazebo. His eyes were hard and searching, looking for those lurking in corners or elicit couples we might stumble over in surprise, even as his touches were gentle. He was a contradictory man.

  The music from the orchestra had faded. Complete darkness surrounded us, and he pulled me close. I wondered what he was doing. There was no one to see us, and our time was running out before Rolfe would expect him back at the house.

  But then I somehow knew he was going to kiss me. His hands rested on my hips and his breath was soft across my lips. And then every thought in my head ceased as his mouth took mine. This wasn’t like the kisses we’d shared before. It felt…real.

  When he pulled away the blood was rushing in my ears and my heart was pounding in my chest. It was so dark I wouldn’t have known he was there if I hadn’t been holding on to him. He put his finger against my swollen lips so I didn’t speak, and then he released me and moved away. My vision was adjusting to the darkness and I saw shadows where there had been none before.

  “It’s now or never,” he said.

  Then he took my hand and we disappeared through the hedges and into the heavily treed woods that surrounded Waldenburg. And then we started running.

  The lace on my dress snagged branches and tore in places, and my feet rubbed at the same spots where my blisters had finally started to heal. But it didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was putting distance between us and them.

  Almost a mile from Rolfe’s estate, Pierre stopped and moved pine boughs and dirt to reveal the bags he’d left there the previous day. He opened one of the bags and tossed me a pair of dark men’s trousers and a black jacket that would cover my pale skin.

  I kicked off the black-strappy dress shoes I wore and barely had to tug at the strapless gown for it to fall to my waist. I pushed it down the rest of the way and stepped out of it. I knew Pierre was watching me.

  “You weren’t kidding when you said you weren’t wearing anything beneath the dress,” he said, his voice sounding choked.

  I didn’t normally disrobe in front of men I wasn’t intimate with, but there was no use for modesty when time was of the essence.

  “Why would I kid?” I asked. “I told you you’d get a chance to see what I wasn’t wearing later tonight. If we live through this, maybe you’ll get another chance.”

  “Oddly enough, I think I’ll feel a lot safer on a train full of explosives than seeing you naked again. You’re a dangerous woman, Scarlet Holmes.”

  “And you’re driving me crazy,” I hissed.

  I dressed quickly and almost groaned as I put the black silk slippers on my feet. And then I watched unabashedly as Pierre stripped out of his white shirt, exposing a ridged chest and abdomen. He pulled on a black shirt that was boxy in style and unlike anything I’d seen while in Europe, and he left his black tuxedo pants on, exchanging boots for his dress shoes.

  He shoved all of our clothes in the empty bag and then buried it back under the pine boughs. And then he
reached for the other bag and strapped it to his back.

  We’d packed the explosives carefully, enough for five charges in all, and we’d separated the liquids into their own containers so there was no chance of them accidentally mixing. But all it would take was a fall or for one of the containers to break, and this mission would be over before it started.

  Kreznow Pass was less than ten miles from Waldenburg, but the path was treacherous. When Pierre didn’t show for the meeting in Rolfe’s office, they’d come searching for us and eventually figure out that we were no longer in the garden. The search would buy us some time but not much. Someone with keen eyes would be able to follow our trail, but they’d have to wait until daylight. And by that time, we’d be on the train.

  We didn’t speak for miles, not until the snow started falling as our elevation increased the closer we got to the pass.

  “We can stop here for a moment,” Pierre whispered. “How are your feet? Are you cold? You’ve barely any clothes on.”

  “I’m fine,” I told him. “My heart is pounding so hard I’m not sure I’ll ever be cold again. Why did you kiss me like that back in the garden?”

  “Because I wanted to,” he said simply.

  “And what do you think about it?” I asked.

  “I think I’d like to do it again,” he said. “Maybe once we’re back on allied soil and Nazis aren’t on our trail. What do you think of it?”

  “I think we should get moving,” I said. “The sooner we get to allied soil, the sooner you can kiss me again.”

  I saw the flash of white teeth as he grinned. “Do you remember the map Jakob showed us?”

  “Every detail,” I said. “We can rest again once we get to the Kreznow Pass. Let’s go.”

  He nodded and we traversed the miles quickly. I had to admire Pierre’s form as he gracefully maneuvered uneven terrain without jostling the backpack. It was a volatile situation. Getting to the train in one piece was as dangerous as setting the explosives themselves.