Ashes Of America

by Fergus McNeill

  ‘I was thinking,’ she said. ‘It might be better if we didn’t arrive together.’

  She looked at him for a moment, then added, ‘More discreet?’

  Frank frowned, then nodded as he understood.

  ‘Sure,’ he said. It made sense.

  Molly gave him a bashful smile.

  ‘I’d really rather that none of the others knew about…’ She looked down. ‘Well, about last night.’

  ‘Of course,’ Frank told her, but his heart sank a little. Was she beginning to have regrets about what they’d done?

  ‘No hinting, no boys’ gossip… not even to Rafe, all right?’

  ‘Not a word from me,’ he assured her, trying to smile. ‘And no ladies’ gossip to Jean.’

  Molly’s expression grew distant.

  ‘I certainly wouldn’t confide in Jean,’ she said.

  Passing on over the bridge, they followed the road round towards the hospital, then stopped at the curb opposite the main gates.

  Turning to face him, Molly reached out to fix his collar and straighten his jacket. Then, she lifted her face and gazed deep into his eyes.

  ‘We’ll carry on at work like before?’ she pressed him. ‘As though nothing happened?’

  ‘As though nothing happened,’ Frank promised sadly. She’d made a mistake with him, understandable after everything that had happened yesterday…

  But Molly’s eyes were twinkling.

  ‘Good,’ she said. ‘I’m busy tonight, but maybe tomorrow evening after work, or the weekend, maybe we could see each other then?’ She lowered her eyes. ‘If you like?’

  ‘I… yeah,’ Frank stammered, then grinned foolishly at her. ‘Of course I’d like that.’

  Molly’s face broke into a bright smile. Standing quickly on tiptoes, she surprised him with a brief kiss, then stepped back from him.

  ‘Wait a quarter of an hour, then come up to the ward, all right?’

  ‘Fifteen minutes. Okay.’

  Molly flashed a mischievous grin at him, then turned and hurried across the road towards the hospital gates.

  Frank made his way along the echoing hospital corridor, retracing his steps from the night before. Turning a corner, he pushed through a set of swing doors and stopped beside a long desk where a nurse was busily noting something in a journal.

  ‘Ja?’ she said, glancing up at him.

  ‘Ich bin hier, um Herrn Cavanagh zu sehen,’ he told her. I came to visit Mr Cavanagh.

  Nodding, the nurse closed the journal and got to her feet.

  ‘Warten Sie bitte hier,’ she told him. Wait here please.

  Frank turned away as she bustled through another set of doors onto the ward. Walking over to the window, he stared out across the outbuildings and houses with their steeply-pitched roofs, his eyes resting on the snow-capped mountains, hazy and distant. Were those the same peaks he stared up at last night? Was there a dead man somewhere out there, sitting with his back to a tree?

  Behind him, he heard footsteps and turned around to find Swift holding the door open for the nurse.

  ‘Danke.’ She smiled, returning to her desk.

  Surprised, Frank walked over to him.

  ‘Good morning,’ he said.

  ‘Morning,’ Swift replied. ‘How are you?’

  ‘Er…’ Frank’s eyes flickered to the nurse, who was watching them. ‘Okay, I guess.’

  ‘Good.’ Swift stepped forward, smoothly placing a hand on Frank’s arm. ‘Molly’s in with him just now. Why don’t we step out for a quick word before I go back to the office?’

  He glanced meaningfully towards the exit.

  ‘Uh, sure,’ Frank replied.

  Swift guided him back out into the empty corridor, letting the doors swing shut behind them.

  ‘How’s he doing?’ Frank asked, worried. ‘Is he okay?’

  ‘Rafe’s just fine.’ Swift smiled. ‘He’s sitting up and cracking jokes. But how are you?’

  Relieved, Frank turned away, then shrugged his shoulders.

  ‘I’m okay,’ he said, quietly. ‘You heard what happened?’

  ‘I did.’ Swift’s expression became serious. ‘If it wasn’t for you, we’d have lost a good man last night.’

  Frank looked down.

  ‘Thanks,’ he said. ‘I didn’t feel like I had much of a choice.’

  ‘Of course,’ Swift told him. ‘There was nothing else you could have done.’

  ‘I guess…’ Frank trailed off, remembering the glare of the muzzle flash, the figure pitching backwards, the dead eyes staring out into the night.

  ‘Did he say anything?’

  Frank glanced up.

  ‘Who?’

  ‘The guy you fragged,’ Swift continued. ‘He was German, right?’

  Frank paused and frowned.

  ‘I assume so,’ he replied. ‘He had a German gun.’

  ‘But he didn’t say anything?’

  ‘It all happened really fast.’ Frank looked at him, then lowered his eyes. ‘I hardly had time to think, and then… well, it was done.’

  Swift listened, nodding.

  ‘Did you see the other one?’ he asked. ‘The one that Molly got?’

  Frank shook his head.

  ‘No, they went off to their meeting alone,’ he explained. ‘I didn’t see anything.’

  Swift considered this for a moment.

  ‘Well, like I said, it’s a good job you were there.’ He clapped Frank on the back, then inclined his head towards the door. ‘I’ll let you go and see Rafe. Oh, and Dulles wanted a word with you, so maybe stop off at Herrengasse on your way back, okay?’

  ‘Okay.’ Frank turned back to the ward.

  Molly stood with her arms folded, scowling down at Rafe, who was sitting propped up in bed. He had a large white bandage wrapped around his head, and his blond hair poked out from the top, giving him a comical appearance.

  ‘Ah, there you are, thank goodness!’ he beamed at Frank, then jerked a thumb towards Molly. ‘Come and tell this frightful old battle-axe to stop grumbling at me.’

  ‘Grumbling? I was simply telling him that he shouldn’t have been so… so reckless!’ Molly shook her head in exasperation, then sighed, composing herself. ‘Good morning, Frank. How are you?’

  Frank moved round to stand by the bed.

  ‘Well, I’m a little tired, but I’m okay,’ he told her, then turned to Rafe. ‘And how about you?’

  ‘Oh, you know, just a little delicate,’ Rafe chuckled. ‘A couple of aspirins and I’ll be right as rain.’

  ‘You’re lucky you weren’t killed,’ Molly snapped at him.

  Rafe’s grin faded a little, and he shut his eyes for second, then reached over to take her hand in his.

  ‘I’m sorry, old girl,’ he whispered, gazing up at her. ‘But I was worried about you, and Frank was always going to get there quicker.’

  ‘But…’ Molly stared down at him. ‘None of us was meant to be alone.’

  ‘I know,’ he said, gently. ‘But if the situation had been reversed, you’d have come running for me, alone or not.’

  They looked at each other for a long moment, then Molly sighed.

  ‘You’re impossible,’ she muttered, then turned to Frank. ‘Maybe you can drum some sense into him, but I’ve got to get to the office. There’s heaps of work to do, and Captain Bedrest won’t be pulling his weight for a while.’

  Her voice was angry, but Frank could sense her relief and, as she turned her back on the bed, she gave him a tiny secret smile.

  ‘I’ll see you back at Dufourstrasse,’ she said, then glanced over her shoulder at Rafe. ‘And I’ll catch up with you later!’

  They watched her as she walked briskly to the end of the ward and disappeared through the double doors.

  ‘Think I’m going to be in the doghouse for a bit,’ Rafe sighed.

  ‘She’s just worried about you.’ Frank smiled. He moved closer and sat down on the edge of the bed. ‘How are you really feeling?’

 
A weariness crept into Rafe’s expression, and he reached up gingerly to touch his bandaged head.

  ‘Well, I shall never complain about a hangover ever again,’ he said, wincing. ‘Tell me, what the hell did that wretched kraut hit me with?’

  ‘He was banging your head on the ground when I got there.’

  ‘Oh.’ Rafe took a deep breath. ‘That explains a lot. And I understand I have you to thank for saving me?’

  ‘How’d you know about that?’

  ‘Swift filled me in on the some of the salient points.’

  Frank lowered his eyes.

  ‘The whole thing was a mistake,’ he muttered. ‘I never should have gone off and left you on your own.’

  ‘Now, don’t you start with that nonsense,’ Rafe interrupted him. ‘Molly and Groth will have plenty to say on the matter, just as soon as I’m deemed well enough to receive their wrath. I want you on my side.’

  Frank managed an unhappy smile.

  ‘Sorry. Last night was just…’ He trailed off and shook his head.

  ‘I know.’ All the joking silliness was gone from Rafe’s voice now. ‘And I expect it must have shaken you up a bit. Was it your first time?’

  Frank raised his head, staring at Rafe, then realized what he was talking about.

  ‘Killing someone?’ He paused, then looked away. ‘I don’t know… maybe. There was a time back in France when my unit was trying to clear a village…’

  He remembered the crack of gunfire, the determined kick of the rifle against his shoulder… and the strangely conflicted feelings when that distant, grey-uniformed figure had finally stopped shooting back. Relief, elation, and a sickening sense of regret.

  Rafe took a breath and sighed.

  ‘Them or us, him or me… that’s the trouble with this damn war.’ He reached over and patted Frank’s hand. ‘Sometimes, the right thing to do is still a terrible thing to do.’

  24

  The streetcar doors swung open and Frank stepped down onto the sidewalk, stifling a yawn. Seeing Rafe had lifted his spirits but a deep weariness was beginning to take hold of him, and he wasn’t looking forward to what he assumed would be a grilling from Dulles. Pale grey clouds rolled across the sky as he walked briskly past the Zytglogge clock tower and on towards Herrengasse.

  A maid opened the door to him, but he was expected and she showed him through to the ground floor study where Dulles waved him in with an impatient gesture.

  ‘Come in, Mr Rye,’ he said, then turned to the maid. ‘That’ll be all, Anja.’

  Frank nodded to the maid, who withdrew and pulled the door closed. When he turned around, he found Dulles staring at him critically.

  ‘You look a mess, son.’

  ‘Sir?’ Frank blinked at him.

  Dulles pointed a finger.

  ‘The knees of your pants have mud on them, and your shoes need a shine.’

  Frank looked down.

  ‘Sorry, I–’ He was about to say haven’t been home but caught himself just in time. ‘I stayed late at the hospital last night, and then this morning I was in a hurry to get over there and see Rafe…’

  ‘I understand all that,’ Dulles snapped, shaking his head irritably. ‘But you have to assume that you’re under surveillance, and there’s no surer way to advertise that you were up to something clandestine last night. Why, you might as well wear a sandwich board and parade around the Bundesplatz.’

  ‘I’ll clean myself up,’ Frank promised.

  ‘Do it before you leave here; Anja will show you where the washroom is.’ He turned and walked over to one of the chairs by the fireplace, gesturing towards the other. ‘Now, come and sit down. I want to know what the hell happened last night.’

  Frank moved across and sat down. Dulles immediately leaned forward, light gleaming off his spectacles.

  ‘So. Four of you went to make a collection. You came back with nothing, and one of you actually ended up in hospital…’ He narrowed his eyes. ‘What went wrong?’

  Taken aback by the abrupt question, Frank hesitated, then shrugged his shoulders.

  ‘Er… they knew we were coming, I guess,’ he said. ‘They were waiting for us.’

  ‘Is that your own theory?’ Dulles demanded. ‘Or are you repeating someone else’s speculation?’

  Frank met his eye, unimpressed by the suggestion that he couldn’t think for himself.

  ‘My own theory,’ he replied, a little stiffly. ‘But I expect everyone will be thinking the same thing.’

  ‘Yes,’ Dulles agreed, his voice becoming soft. ‘I daresay they will.’

  He leaned back and settled into his chair, pushing his glasses back up his nose, and studied Frank carefully.

  ‘Exactly when was it decided that Mr Cavanagh and yourself should remain with the automobile?’

  Frank considered this.

  ‘When we arrived at the ski lodge,’ he replied. ‘We stopped in the clearing and got out. Groth told us to wait while he and Molly went to meet the contact at a cabin, somewhere nearby.’

  ‘Did you object to this plan? Dulles enquired.

  ‘No.’

  ‘Did you think it was strange?’

  ‘No…’ Frank hesitated. ‘Well, I did wonder why Groth was taking Molly with him, but Rafe said something about her being able to identify the courier.’

  Dulles nodded to himself.

  ‘So you had no issue with the plan,’ he mused. ‘And yet, a few moments later, you decided to set off through the woods. On your own.’

  ‘We heard a gunshot,’ Frank explained, as patiently as he could. ‘And I didn’t decide, Rafe told me to go.’

  Dulles watched him with unblinking eyes.

  ‘It was fortunate for him that you chose to come back when you did.’

  There was an unspoken suspicion in his tone.

  ‘I couldn’t find the others, so I turned around and went back.’ Frank scowled. ‘When I got to the clearing, I saw a man attacking Rafe.’

  Dulles paused for a moment, then drew a deep breath and sighed.

  ‘Did you have to shoot him?’ he asked.

  Frank bristled.

  ‘With respect, yes I did. He was trying to kill Rafe and he pulled a gun on me–’

  ‘Did he shoot at you?’ Dulles demanded, leaning forward suddenly.

  ‘No, but–’

  ‘Why not?’ Dulles interrupted again.

  ‘Because I shot him first,’ Frank snapped.

  They stared at each other for a moment, then Dulles allowed himself a faint smile.

  ‘I see,’ he murmured. Leaning back, he patted the arms of his chair thoughtfully. ‘Well, that’s something, I suppose.’

  Sensing that the mood in the room had somehow changed, Frank also leaned back.

  ‘I’m not sure I understand,’ he said cautiously.

  ‘You didn’t hesitate,’ Dulles explained. ‘And you seem to know which side you’re on, which is more than some people do.’

  ‘Sir?’

  Dulles raised a weary eyebrow to admonish him for saying “Sir”, then got to his feet and walked over to the window. Pulling the tall drapes further apart, he gazed down at the river.

  ‘Last night’s operation was compromised, there’s no getting away from that,’ he said. ‘And “compromised” really means “betrayed”, though in this case we don’t know whether they betrayal happened at their end or…’

  Frank watched him. At their end… or ours?

  Dulles straightened, and turned around to face him.

  ‘Now then,’ he continued. ‘Thanks to you, Mr Cavanagh survived his encounter with the enemy. However, we must assume that our contact was less fortunate. And if he’s blown, I have to ask myself what portion of his own contacts – his network – is also blown.’

  Frank considered this.

  ‘Can you find out?’ he said.

  Dulles looked at him thoughtfully.

  ‘I’m afraid it’s not quite as easy as that,’ he sighed. ‘You see, if there’s
ever any question about someone’s integrity, or their status, or their loyalty… well, that’s the end of it.’

  Frank stared at him.

  ‘You don’t hesitate,’ Dulles explained. ‘You can’t give them the opportunity to do more damage. Understand?’

  Frank nodded uncertainly.

  ‘So you just… shut down those parts of the network?’ he said.

  ‘That depends.’ Dulles turned back to face the window again. ‘If you think they have the trust of the other side, you might feed them false information so they mislead their masters. In other cases, it’s too dangerous, and you have to cut them off entirely.’

  Sitting back in his chair, Frank frowned. The word “entirely” sounded very final.

  ‘Will it affect a lot of people?’ he asked.

  ‘What?’ Roused from private thoughts, Dulles glanced around. ‘Oh, I suppose so. These things happen from time to time – contacts and operatives don’t last forever – but there are other… costs to consider.’

  ‘Costs?’ Frank looked up.

  Silhouetted against the light of the window, Dulles bowed his head.

  ‘It means I now have to question things I previously considered definite,’ he said. ‘And, most annoyingly, it means that I can no longer give active support to certain projects.’

  Frank considered this. Rafe had believed that the operation was connected with the German coup, and Dulles had hinted that it was something significant enough to change the course of the war. But what were the implications for that, now that the network had been compromised?

  ‘This is bad,’ he murmured.

  At the window, Dulles straightened and turned around.

  ‘It’s the game we play,’ he said simply, as if that explained everything. Moving over to stand by the fireplace, he peered down at Frank through his spectacles. ‘You’ve spoken very little today, but listened a lot,’ he mused. ‘You’re learning.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Frank said, carefully keeping a neutral expression.

  Dulles nodded to himself, then paced slowly over to his desk with a mildly distracted air.

  ‘Now then, I’m going to be out of town for a few days,’ he said, picking up a journal then snapping it shut. ‘This whole business has become rather messy, and there are several things that need to be tidied up.’