“Who is this?” Madeline asked, her tone containing a trace of hostility.
Gabi looked Madeline up and down. Neil did the same, correctly guessing what Gabi was thinking. Madeline wore an apron around her dress, her sleeves rolled up, prepared to finish his haircut. The scene appeared quite familial.
To Neil, the pregnant silence lasted a full year. Maybe two.
Finally, Gabi turned back to Neil, her head shaking side to side. “You slick bastard,” she whispered, speaking English.
Neil smiled, and even though he wasn’t one percent in the wrong, it was a guilty smile. The same guilty smile that every other man on earth would have offered, as if implanted in the male DNA as the default expression to give in any similar situation.
He made a tamping-down motion with his hands. “Gabi, it’s not what it looks like.”
“It’s exactly what it looks like.” Gabi turned, huffing across the yard and through the gate, grabbing a tattered suitcase she must have rested there. Neil ran after her.
She stalked up the short driveway and had just turned onto the mountain road when he caught up to her. He grabbed her elbow, causing her to windmill backward with her arm, striking him on the side of his face. She swung again, spinning all the way around when she missed. Neil then grasped her from behind, wrapping his arms around her as she sobbed. He made a shushing sound into her ear and turned her to face him.
“Gabi, listen to me, damn it.”
She pulled away, her face pink and glistening of tears. “Was it just too long to go without a woman in your bed?” she shouted, her words firing at a machine-gun pace. “What, did you just stop off at the local brothel on the way into town and pick her up?”
“I’m not going to explain until you calm down.”
Gabi shoved him backward and wiped her free-flowing tears. “I can’t believe you. I came all this way for you.”
“It’s not what you think.”
“Isn’t it?”
Neil stood there, saying nothing.
Gabi pinched her lips together and stared off through the whispering pines. Finally she nodded and turned to him. “Okay, I’m calm. So, explain.”
And Neil did.
~~~
A half-hour later, the three of them sat at the kitchen table, the two girls watching as Neil sawed into the overdone pork tenderloin. With each slice, he grunted upon seeing the gray center of the meat. Madeline couldn’t have cared less about the tenderloin. She occasionally stole glances at Gabi, the doe-eyed German girl. She had to be in her early twenties, and had an innocent yearning about her, which made Madeline despise her even more. Earlier, when they had returned to the backyard, Neil had sent the German girl to the bathroom to wash up. Madeline had stood by the burnt tenderloin with her hands on her hips, watching across the yard as Neil gave the girl another hug. She knew women well enough to know why—exactly why—the German girl had come here. She wanted to claim him as her own. And, as Madeline grudgingly admitted, who could blame her? He was handsome, mysterious, and from a faraway land.
Just like Jakey had been.
Those attributes noted, Madeline had absolutely zero designs about starting something with Neil—Dieter. She simply viewed him as a ray of hope, and it made her jealous that this German girl, who probably had never endured a fingernail of the hardships that Madeline had, also viewed him the same way. Add to that the fact that the German was beautiful, and blonde, and played the dumbfounded, innocent victim so well—it made Madeline want to knock her teeth backward and pull her hair until she screamed.
The violent thought made Madeline grin, just before she received a compliment from the German girl.
“Thank you for the food. The vegetables are delicious.”
Madeline’s malicious smirk dissolved, fading to a semi-frown as she was unsure of the genuineness of the accolade. She offered a cheap replica of a thankful nod before turning her gaze to the male in the room.
He appeared uncomfortable, rubbing his hands together as he blurted out a trite question to Madeline. “Have you ever been over the northern range to where Gabi is from?”
Bullshit, stock small talk annoyed Madeline to no end, and she didn’t hide it from her expression or tone when she said no.
“And had you been here to Innsbruck before?” he asked Gabi.
She shook her head as she chewed green beans.
Neil gnawed on a piece of the leather-like meat, gesturing to Gabi. “Innsbruck is picturesque, but I’m not so sure I don’t like where you’re from better. While still mountainous, it’s not quite the same as here, especially since Innsbruck is in such a steep valley.” He managed to get the meat down before he placed his knife and fork on his plate. “I’ve always enjoyed seeing how land looks just before a big mountain range. Once, I drove from Chicago back to California, and Denver was exactly—”
“What is your problem?” Gabi suddenly asked Madeline, cutting Neil off.
Madeline threw her fork onto her plate and eyed Gabi, taken aback at her sudden forcefulness. She recovered quickly. “Don’t you dare take a tone like that with me, Mädchen. Why don’t you ask Neil what my problem is?”
Gabi’s mouth was puckered tightly as she turned to Neil, arching her eyebrows. Neil glanced over at Madeline, resignedly placing his napkin on the table. “Madeline is half-Jewish, Gabi. Like I touched on earlier, she’s endured countless persecution and her family has been taken away. The Nazis did all this.”
Madeline listened to Neil’s words, feeling oddly relieved and exonerated as he spoke them. She used her fingers to push back stray wisps of hair, combing them into the mass of hair that was held tightly at the back of her head. She didn’t say a word; she simply watched Gabi’s reaction.
Gabi blinked several times before turning to Madeline. “You mailed the letter.”
“What letter?”
“The one to Neil, when he was in San Francisco, from his best friend who died.”
Madeline’s eyes instantly filled with tears. “He was my fiancé.”
Gabi considered this for a moment. She nodded, sipped her water and looked down into her lap, pausing for an uncomfortable amount of time. “I’m terribly sorry for how I just acted. And more so for how you’ve been treated.”
Madeline pushed her food to the center of the table. She stood and walked to the cupboard, retrieving an old pack of cigarettes she kept for when she was in the mood. She came back to the table, lighting one and sliding the pack to Neil. He opened his eyes widely.
“You’ll live,” Madeline remarked.
Neil nodded thoughtfully, but declined. He slid the pack to Gabi. She lit one.
Madeline stole glances at Gabi. It must have taken tremendous courage to leave her home like she did, crossing the mountains and going into another land. Even still, she wasn’t completely sold on the German girl’s value system. It wouldn’t be fair to judge her solely as a German, because many Germans had proven to be good people. It was the minority Nazis who had caused such strife. I might as well just ask.
“How do you feel about Jews?”
Gabi shrugged, taking a moment before answering. “If you strip away the National Socialist views which have been forced on me and every other person in my country, I feel about Jews like I do any other person. But as far as how I feel about the discrimination that is taking place, I find it disgusting. I don’t expect you to believe me, but it’s the truth and that’s all I have,” Gabi said, maintaining eye contact. “There’s a sweet old man in Hausham, the nearby town. He owned a confectionary and had to close it for the trouble the Nazis made for him. I always liked him. It wasn’t fair and it made me sad because he didn’t deserve any of it. I heard he was severely beaten and no one has seen him since.”
Madeline was about to speak when Gabi continued. “But if you want an apology from me, you won’t get one. My family is not Nazi. In fact, we despise the party. We keep to ourselves and work our land as we always have. I cannot apologize for what I haven’t taken pa
rt in, but I am sorry…deeply sorry that such an unjust persecution is happening to anyone, including you.”
The words flowed from the young lady with conviction and maturity that belied her age. Madeline listened to each syllable, drinking each one in until she felt like there was a leaden weight on her shoulders that was heavier than she could carry. She crushed out her cigarette and stood, trying to muster a smile as more tears welled in her eyes. Not knowing what to do, but needing privacy, she crossed the room and rushed into the bedroom, flopping onto the made bed and howling into one of the pillows.
The pain was there, always there, centimeters underneath the surface. Pain for Jakey. Pain for her family. The pain of knowing that a life she had once had was gone, and would never return. The people were gone. Their property was no longer theirs. All the good memories ruined. She sobbed, her body shuddering as her brain flashed wretched images like a picture show gone bad. Seconds later, she heard the door click shut and felt the mattress depress.
It was Gabi. The German girl gently patted Madeline’s upper back, comforting her. She leaned down, making a shushing sound like a mother might comfort her sick child. It surprised Madeline that the soothing actually helped. In fact, it felt wonderful. After several minutes, Madeline was cried out. Having been through so many tragedies, she was well in touch with her emotions on the sad side of the ledger. Once the tears ceased, her sarcastic edge would typically disappear and, if only for a while, her old self would emerge. Before the tragedies, before the persecution, Madeline had been happy. She removed her damp hand from underneath her face and clasped Gabi’s hand, squeezing it.
It was a gesture of gratitude.
~~~
Neil ate a full meal while they were in the bedroom. Sure, the pork was overcooked, but it still tasted better than food from a can or that tepid chicken broth he’d subsisted on for two weeks. Burnt or not, the meat was coated with the flavorful caramelized coating that only a grill can provide. He ate with gusto.
To hell with it.
As he cleaned up, the silence in the bedroom was slowly replaced by murmurs of voices. Once the kitchen was clean, Neil sipped some Austrian iced tea—it was surprisingly very sweet—and fought his craving of a cigarette. Dr. Kraabe was correct; it was a bad habit. Neil planned to heed the doctor’s advice, as irritating as the cravings might be. After another twenty minutes, he lit the wood he had stacked earlier and sat on the hearth, massaging Schatze behind her ears until she fell asleep. As the seasoned alder took flame, cracking and popping, he took an inventory of what he had learned thus far.
There were two questions in Neil’s mind, and a third that was pointless in answering until he answered the first two. First, where had Jakey hidden the children and their caretakers? Neil was no closer to learning this than he had been when he first left San Francisco, and the fact that he was physically closer—and still didn’t have a clue—made him feel that much farther from the answer. The second question was who had killed Jakey, and why. Third, and secondary to the first, was how to move the children once he found them. Since Neil had made a career in shipping, he felt he could probably lean on experience to figure that one out when the time came.
Find the children and get them anything they need; find Jakey’s killer; avenge Jakey; move the children. Preferably in that order. Thus far, however, as J. Harrison Musselwhite would say in his Arkansan drawl, Neil “hadn’t peed a drop.”
If he could just get a little time to focus, Neil was confident he could make progress. If he could concentrate without distraction, keeping the details of his missions to himself, he knew he’d have a clear advantage. He was like a hare, fast and agile. The pursuing fox might be faster in the stretch, but the fox had no idea when the hare might turn. If the hare timed it just right, the fox would be left rolling in the dirt and still hungry, while the hare would be alive to run again. The hare didn’t use anyone else to accomplish this, and only he knew when that vital turn was coming.
Neil eyed the bedroom. There were two important women in there who depended on him. And while he needed to keep them safe, he also worried that their presence might hinder his abilities.
The bedroom door suddenly creaked open and Gabi and Madeline exited. “I’m going to drive her to the doctor’s house,” Gabi said.
“Drive her? What if someone sees you? And you don’t know where you’re going.”
“No one will see me. Madeline will show me the way. I know how to drive. I’m a big girl. Please just stay here and keep doing whatever it is you’re doing,” she said in a tone that indicated she didn’t want an argument.
Madeline’s body was covered in her coat, draped over her shoulders. She had undone her hair, and it flowed halfway down her back and shoulders, concealing much of her face. When she turned to Neil, he could see the pain in her eyes.
“I’m sorry for the way I acted,” Madeline said, hardly audible.
“You need not apologize,” Neil said. “Gabi…”
“I’ll be just fine.” The two women exited.
It was nearly an hour before Gabi returned. She sat at the table and drank iced tea as she relayed the entire story of her conversation from earlier. Madeline had told her everything, about her family, about her feelings of depression, and about Jakey Herman. A quick study, Gabi had a near thorough understanding of everything that was going on, telling Neil that Madeline would be better off if she could continue to talk about her pain as she had done tonight.
“She’s been bottling up her grief. She told me that tonight was the first time she had truly let it all out,” Gabi said, shaking her head.
“Is she okay?”
“It took a lot out of her but, yes, I think she’ll wake up tomorrow and feel much better for it.”
“Did she talk about how Jakey died?”
“No. But I will speak with her about that soon.” Gabi’s voice had an edge of finality.
Neil rubbed his tired eyes. It was rare for him to feel helpless, or at least it had been before Emilee’s murder, but now the feeling was becoming much more familiar to him. He uncovered his eyes and gazed at the beauty sitting next to him.
Gabi held her empty glass on the table, using her hand to move it in slow circles. There was a question forming on her face. Neil waited patiently.
“The only thing I cannot figure out is…” she paused, knitting her eyebrows as she focused on Neil, “why exactly are you here?”
Gabi had spoken for the better part of twenty minutes, without a break, and Neil had listened, rapt. Now, her abrupt query jolted him back to reality. He fumbled irritably for words, realizing that he didn’t have an adequate answer.
“Well, because my friend asked me to come here, as his dying wish.”
She squeezed her eyelids shut and shook her head. It was an expression of impatience, almost as if he hadn’t been quite bright enough to understand the deeper meaning of her words. “I know about that, but what I don’t know…what Madeline didn’t know to tell me…and what I think you don’t know to tell me…is why your friend Jacob chose you. Why ask Neil Reuter, a man who had to come all the way from San Francisco? Among all the Jews and their friends, there must be a host of supremely capable people. So, why did Jacob choose you to find these children?”
Neil was surprised at Gabi’s sudden edge. “Well, I speak German and I’ve been behind the lines before—back when there was a war going on. Jakey knew that, because he’d been with me. And I’m pretty damned good at this type of thing. I’m using my own money, a considerable sum. And I’m not Jewish. There’s three reasons.”
“And they couldn’t have found all that anywhere else? Madeline told me the money was a non-issue.”
“So what’s your point?”
“My point is exactly what I already asked. It’s a question of why they chose you. It…doesn’t…make…sense.”
Angered, Neil rapped on the table. “What is all this? All of the sudden it’s interrogate-Neil-Reuter-night?” Schatze lifted her head at th
e sudden change in tone.
“Dieter Dremel,” Gabi replied softly.
“Okay, interrogate-Dieter-Dremel-night.”
She looked at him. “Why did he choose you, Neil? I’m not trying to bring you down, but the question bothers me, and you should stop mourning Jakey, at least temporarily, so that you can dispassionately come to the root of the question, too.” She brightened. “If you figure out why, then perhaps you can decipher this puzzle you’re trying to solve.”
Neil moved to the fireplace, the flame warming his face. He paid heed to her question, running it over and over through his mind. She was right. After all of the elaborate preparation, which could even include framing him for Lex Curran’s death, what was so damned important about getting him to Austria to find these children? Sure, he was qualified for the mission. And because he wasn’t Jewish, and could assimilate, he was able to do these things in broad daylight. But there had to be others who could have done it as well, perhaps even better.
And not taken nearly two months to arrive.
He turned to Gabi.
“I agree that Jakey’s motivation is peculiar. I’ll think about it. For now, I just don’t know.” He moved over her. “Now, Gabi, why are you here?”
She grasped his hand. “Because I love you, Neil.”
That got him.
Neil was silent. Oddly warm inside, but silent.
“I mean it,” Gabi said.
“I’ve learned that you don’t mince words,” Neil whispered. He gathered himself, clearing his throat. “Before you allow your emotions for me to set, I need to tell you something.”
“Tell me what?”
He shut his eyes. He took deep breaths.
At the start of his adult life, his plum assignment as the general’s attaché quickly led to special military schooling. That led to his place on the battlefield, then to undercover military work, first as an intelligence combatant and then a sapper. Eventually it turned into a shadowy existence straight out of the plot of a Saturday matinee. In those nickel flicks, the hero, someone like Spencer Tracy, a cigarette dangling from his full lips, would always say exactly what Neil was about to say, but the hero would say it with such aplomb.
Final Mission: Zion - A World War 2 Thriller Page 45