Peter nodded his understanding. “And the second reason Aying wouldn’t call in the SS?”
Neil looked at the other adults. They all answered in unison. “Money.”
“Lord has almost certainly promised Aying a fortune for his cooperation,” Neil added. “He’ll pay it, too, assuming they can find and kill me.”
The assembled group grew quiet. Neil broke the silence.
“Since Aying and Lord are busy getting loaded in the hotel bar, I think we should get the children out tonight. Too much could change in the span of another day. And this rain will provide good cover. There’ll be less of a chance of someone wandering by and seeing the commotion.”
Kraabe nodded at the group. “Then call Falkenberg. Let’s tell him it’s time to earn his money.”
~~~
“Ja?”
“Oberst Falkenberg?”
“Nein. He is busy.”
“Get him.”
“Who is this?”
“It’s the person he’s been waiting for.”
A bump as the earpiece was placed on a table. Mumbling in the background. Footsteps coming quickly. “Falkenberg.”
“Do you have everything ready?”
“Do you have my money?”
“Yes.”
“Then everything is ready.”
“We need to go tonight, as in, right now.”
Silence.
“Did you hear me?”
“I’m here.”
“Did you hear me?”
“Ja.”
“Can you make it happen?”
“I believe so.”
“Not good enough.”
“Yes.”
“Good. Where do I meet you and your men?”
Silence.
“I haven’t much time.”
“My fee doubles if we go now.”
“I don’t have that much.” A lie.
“Yes, you do.” A double-bluff.
“If I can scrape together almost that much, say ninety percent of double, can we meet in one hour?” Say yes, you asshole.
“Why wait an hour? If you can scrape it together, we can meet in ten minutes.”
“Where?”
“North side of the Hauptbahnhof, next to the church. It’s secluded. There’s a spur where you’ll see the train and the trucks.”
“One hour, and tell your men not a word escapes to anyone.”
“You bring my money and we can lay siege to the city if you like.”
“One hour.”
Neil placed the earpiece in the cradle and turned to the expectant crowd. “The show starts...right now.”
CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE
UNFORTUNATELY, THE HEAVY RAIN MOVED SWIFTLY EAST, leaving in its wake chilly temperatures and a scattered sky of purple clouds racing over the swollen moon. The men were busy loading items into Thomas’ Opel Blitz truck. After loading two water cans, and wincing at the pulling in his side, Neil turned to the three men. “When we get to the train, Peter will ride up front with me. Doctor Kraabe, do you want to go with us?”
“I didn’t spend my last two years working on this for nothing. Of course, I’ll go.”
Neil nodded. “Good. Then I want you in one of the cars with the children, hopefully near the center of the train. I’m not sure how the boxcars will be set up, but in the event we have any stops, you keep your eye on what’s happening. I don’t know the soldiers we’re working with, or Falkenberg for that matter. We’ll need to be on our guard every step of the way.”
Neil turned to Thomas. “Herr Lundren, since you’re our policeman, I want you on the back of the train for security. We’ll put Madeline back there with you, and Gabi can come to the front with me.”
Thomas chewed on his lower lip for a moment. “I’m not so sure that’s where I can best serve you.”
Neil was loading the last of the items and, upon hearing this, he stopped and frowned. “What’s that mean?”
Thomas motioned to Doctor Kraabe. “The doctor here says I’ve most likely got cancer of the lung…or lungs. I’m running on borrowed time.”
Peter’s mouth turned downward. He looked Thomas up and down and, without hesitation, put his arm around the old man. Thomas affirmed the embrace, his eyes glistening.
“How can you be so sure?” Neil asked.
Doctor Kraabe nodded but said nothing.
Neil stepped closer to Thomas. “That doesn’t mean you won’t get well again. You should still come with us.”
Thomas shook his head. It was the type of quick, firm headshake that means only one thing. “No, I’ll stay behind. I already gave the SS my name, and when they find out they’ve been deceived, I’m as good as dead anyway.”
“Not if you escape to Yugoslavia,” Neil countered.
“I’m too old and too sick to escape. It doesn’t appeal to me at this stage in my life.”
“So what’ll you do?”
“I’ll do what does appeal to me.” The old man’s silver stubble twitched as his face crinkled into a smile. “Perhaps I can be a bit of an obstruction for Aying and your Mister Lord.”
Neil stared into the old man’s eyes. While he would have liked to have had time to dissuade him of his plan, he knew from experience that each person is responsible for their own actions. This was Thomas Lundren’s call. “So be it,” Neil said, extending his hand. Once the two men shook, Neil glanced around.
“Where are the girls?”
“I think they’re downstairs,” Peter answered.
“We leave in five minutes.” Neil thudded through the house and down the stairs. When he reached the secret passageway, the scent of perfume assaulted his nose. He pushed the door open, his eyes widening at the two creatures before him. Gabi was decked out in bright red, Madeline in black. The girls wore heels, tall ones, displaying shiny legs. Their hair was burnished and coiffed, framing porcelain doll faces accented by just enough makeup that they didn’t look overdone. Central to both outfits were jutting breasts, standing out like beacons, accentuated and revealing enough to attract the eyes of any man with a heartbeat. Madeline turned away from Neil, studying her own face in the small wall mirror while Gabi zipped up Madeline’s form-fitting dress from behind.
“What the hell is all this?” Neil bellowed.
Gabi turned to Neil. “Madeline, could you leave us for a moment?”
Once they were alone, Gabi walked to Neil and placed her arms around his waist. “We’re going to occupy your pursuers while you move the children.”
Neil didn’t breathe, didn’t speak, just stood there. “Are you completely insane?” he finally blurted in his native English.
Gabi turned back to the small table, donning a gold bangle. She leaned down, taking a final look in the mirror before turning back to Neil. “Remember when I told you I didn’t want to be window dressing?”
Neil remained silent.
“Remember when I said I would rather live and die than lead a boring existence?”
“Yes, I remember.”
“Well, I wasn’t kidding.”
“I can see that you weren’t kidding. And this is how you do it?”
“Go and retrieve those precious children and get them across the border. Tell me where to meet you and I will be there.” She eyed him in the mirror. “After I’ve done my part of this job.”
Neil’s tone started low and grew in volume. “They’ll kill you, Gabi. They’ll kill you stone dead. Preston Lord is a murderer, of the worst sort, and he’ll smile at you while he disembowels you.”
She turned, placing her arms over his shoulders, nearly eye-to-eye in her high heels. “Well then, I guess I’ll have to be careful, won’t I?”
Neil closed his eyes, willing himself to be patient. “Gabi, you’re in over your head. They’ll figure you out…Madeline, too.”
“We’ll just have to take that chance.”
“Are you even listening to me?”
“I’ve considered your every word.”
Nei
l lowered his eyes to the floor. “I can’t stop you, can I?”
“No, you cannot. This is what I want to do. I’m no different than you, am I? Stubborn as hell and propelled by what I believe is right.”
His eyes came up to hers as he noted her evident excitement over what was to come and, at that moment, he understood her better than he ever had before. His chest hitched once as he chuckled sadly, feeling oddly defeated, though he didn’t know why.
“I love you, Neil. No matter what happens to me, or you, or both of us, I want you to know I’ve fallen in love with you. I cannot imagine ever being with another man after you.”
Neil looked away, overcome with an image of Emilee, the last, and only, woman he’d ever told he loved. As he was about to respond, Gabi shook her head, touching a finger to his lips.
Then she kissed him, fully, holding his head in her hands. Finished, she pulled back from Neil, a confident smile on her face. “I won’t forget anything you’ve said about Lord and Aying. Madeline and I are big girls. So, from this point on, just worry about your end of things. We’ll be fine.”
Neil went into his pocket and handed her a wad of money. “Listen closely. Meet us tomorrow, in Jesenice, in Yugoslavia. I’ve never been there, so I don’t know any landmark to give you.” He looked to the low ceiling, thinking. “The main train station. Be there, acting like a passenger, at three in the afternoon. In case one of us is delayed, do the same thing the following day. And the one after that, if need be.” He stepped away and came back with a map.
“Here we are,” he said, touching the map. “And here’s Jesenice. In case you drive the truck, I want you to memorize the route, and a secondary route in case that one is blocked.”
She took it. “I will.”
“If they get tipped off to who you are—”
“Then Madeline and I will make our way there in hiding. I can do this, Neil.”
“How will you cross the border?” he asked.
“I’ll manage.”
“But you won’t be able to just—”
“I will manage,” she interrupted.
Neil shook his head. “Promise me you’ll be careful.”
Gabi nodded. “I promise.” She touched his face. “You be careful, Neil. And look after Peter.”
“Peter will be fine.” Neil wore a blithe smile, like a boy about to go out to play after having been cooped up by rain for three days straight. “Our part is going to be fun.”
“See…we both feel that way.”
“You got it? Jesenice…main train station…three in the afternoon.”
“See you in Jesenice.” She kissed him again.
~~~
Moments before, after she had left the underground chamber, Madeline pulled the door shut behind her and lingered in the wine cellar. There was a bit of light there, spilling in from the stairway that led up to the kitchen. As the muffled voices of Neil and Gabi floated through the cool cellar, she knelt, careful not to get dust on the tight black dress. From the bottom shelf, after quietly removing six bottles of Bordeaux, she lifted a small plank, retrieving a single item from a hidden compartment. Madeline stuffed the item into her clutch, making her way upstairs and waiting, cigarette in hand.
The item might come in handy later.
~~~
Thomas drove his truck with Doctor Kraabe in the cabin beside him. Despite Neil’s objections, Peter rode with him in the bed of the old Opel, carrying Neil’s second pistol while Neil held his Colt at his side. Schatze was with them, hanging her head out of the rails of the truck as it bumped over the trolley tracks on Maximilian Strasse.
The rain had apparently been pushed out by a cold front because the temperature was dropping rapidly. They drove into the Pradl neighborhood before doubling back to the Hauptbahnhof from the east. Thomas killed the lights on the truck as a passenger train departed. As soon as it passed, he crossed the tracks, following the access road to the south, just above the main yard. Neil saw the train, only six cars in total, including the engine. It was sitting to their left, nearly concealed by trees and scrub brush. Beside it were several trucks and a staff car. Neil could see the cherry glow of cigarettes, the mark of soldiers the world over, causing his worst craving since he’d quit.
“Over there,” Neil said to Thomas through the back glass. Thomas stopped near the assembled group and shut off the engine. Two presumed soldiers, dressed in plain dark shirts and dungarees, took positions on the sides of the truck, both men carrying shiny black MP-35 sub-machine guns around their neck.
“Wer ist Dremel?” one of them asked.
Neil called out his presence, climbing down from the back. The soldier started to frisk him when Neil pulled back and snapped at the man in sharp German. “I’m armed and, in case Falkenberg didn’t tell you, I’m in charge here.”
“Disarm him and let him through,” came the sound of Falkenberg’s high-German accent from the darkened staff car.
When Neil didn’t move, Falkenberg said, “No one is trying to double-cross you. I just want to complete our deal before we proceed.”
Unsure why he trusted Falkenberg, Neil placed his Colt in the soldier’s hand and headed to the staff car. Falkenberg exited the black Mercedes, eyeing Neil in the darkness. He wore dark wool slacks and a black Greek fisherman’s sweater.
“Come this way,” Falkenberg said, taking Neil to the side. “Is that the full amount?” Falkenberg asked, gesturing to the bag.
“It’s all there, Leo. If you’re going to count it, could you please get on with it? We’re pressed for time.”
The German colonel took the bag back to his car, opening the rear door and using his light to briefly survey the contents. After placing the bag in the trunk and murmuring something to his driver, he returned to Neil.
“What’s your plan?”
Neil informed Falkenberg of the location of the mine, estimating that their cargo of children and weapons would nearly fill the boxcars.
“Weapons?”
“They’ll come in handy,” Neil said. “We can stack the crates behind the doors of the boxcars. Then we’ll hide the children behind them.”
“Where did you get them?”
“My associate purchased them before Aying killed him.”
“Very well.” Falkenberg had one of the soldiers retrieve the train’s engineer and, without going into detail about the items they’d be loading, Neil told the location of the mine, as well as the spur the train could transfer to for loading.
“We’ll need a few mine cars,” the engineer volunteered.
“I agree,” Neil answered. “But I didn’t know where to find such a thing.”
The man lit a cigar, puffing for a moment before he said, “No problem. There’s a supply house right where we’ll transfer off the main line to go up the spur to the mine.”
Neil thanked him before Falkenberg sent him back to the train. Neil turned back to the colonel. “Do you have my Baratol?”
“I have a substitute.” Neil cocked his head but Falkenberg halted him with two vertical palms. “It’s better, trust me. German engineering, you know…”
“And these soldiers, we’ll need them to work and, if necessary, provide defense. This train has to make it to Yugoslavia. There can be no failures.”
Falkenberg handed Neil a bound folder. “In there you have all necessary paperwork containing every stamp and seal imaginable. In the event we’re stopped—and you can count on it at the border, if not before—this will ensure safe passage.”
Neil nodded, extending his hand to Falkenberg, who took it. “Let’s get a move on. We’ve got a great deal of loading to do, and I want to get to that border before the sun comes up tomorrow.”
Falkenberg summoned his men for a sterilized briefing. Everyone boarded the train, all except Thomas who, after a quick conference with Neil, set out for a destination several kilometers past the mine.
CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO
It was fully dark in Innsbruck. The gilded gas lamps abov
e the wooden sidewalk bathed the center of the rustic resort town in amber light. Soft Italian music wafted through the air, coming from the patio of a restaurant near the Tyroler Inn. The town oozed affluence, marked by finely-attired couples promenading hand in hand in the cool night air. Most had left their children at home in the care of a nanny from Italy or Egypt or Rumania. But the children weren’t on the parents’ minds this evening. This, like every night in stylish Innsbruck, was a time to be seen in one’s finest, looking one’s best. And none looked better than the dashing couple strutting around the corner onto Innstrasse. Their names were Madeline Seelbach and Gabi Heinz.
But, on this night, the girls had decided to be someone else. Madeline instructed Gabi not to give her name to anyone, to be perfectly coy. However, in the event she was questioned, she was still to use her Christian name, which was Gabrielle. Her last name would be Hoffman, another common German name that started with the letter H.
Madeline, while half Jewish, had a perfectly Germanic family name. Even still, having been secretive for some time, she was quite used to the usage of pseudonyms. Tonight, Madeline employed her favorite name, which she wished her mother had named her: Katarina. In the event she had to produce a family name, she would go with the decidedly German, and quite Christian, name Kreuz, meaning “cross.”
While dressed to the nines, they had chosen to steer clear of formalwear, which might limit the bars they would feel comfortable in. Madeline’s black dress, courtesy of Gabi’s shopping trip in Salzburg, had been too large on her petite frame. But Gabi, being quite handy with a needle and thread, expertly re-seamed the outfit, perfectly accentuating the getup to Madeline’s curves. She wore no jewelry other than a faux pearl necklace and a matching clasp in her hair. In her left hand was the black clutch, its slight bulge barely noticeable.
Gabi, on the other hand, wore a tight-fitting red dress with black trim, adorned with a cloche hat. Her hair was fashionably curled, so that her long locks tucked up closely to her neck and ears, showcasing the faux diamond earrings she had purchased in Salzburg. Her dress was cut above the knee and tapered to mimic the mermaid look, displaying her long legs, made even more alluring by the high, stiletto-style heels. In her gloved hand, Gabi held a black clutch, which, unlike Madeline’s, contained nothing illicit.
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