The farmer returned around 11 p.m., pulled into the lean-to, and parked the vehicle. He walked towards the house, hidden from view after the first few steps. York was confident they were safe, and soon after he drifted off to sleep.
Amanda awoke just after dawn, nudging York. He was surprised he had slept that long. But it felt good. They needed the rest for the last day of their journey.
She awakened the children and they all had some cheese and bread and juice, walked through the woods a bit, and washed at a small stream. It was a pleasant morning, even if a bit crisp, and an hour later they nudged the ambulance from its hiding place and were soon back on the country road.
As the morning passed, York realized they had seen few vehicles; the roads traveled were quiet and deserted except for an occasional truck, or sedan, or wagon. The scenery switched from forest to farm, rolling hills to gentle streams, and the bucolic views gave little evidence of a world at war. York knew that someone, either Manfred Richter or one of his staff, had planned the route well. It would provide a perfect escape for the Nazis when their imminent defeat arrived.
They stopped for lunch, pulling off the road into the trees as they had before. Amanda got her camera and took photographs of the children, and then the adults, before capturing images of owls and deer.
There was little distance left to travel, maybe a hundred and fifty kilometers, but they still had almost eighteen hours before Max said it was safe to cross the border. The fuel gauge registered a hair above the empty mark. York added the last ten liters of petrol, knowing it would be close. He might have to steal more fuel.
They drove the entire afternoon, making several stops since they had the time, and let the children play outside. They stopped again for dinner, a little later than they had the day before, and took a long break to let everyone rest. Their food was almost exhausted, but there was enough for breakfast. And York had plenty of money. They could buy whatever they needed. But he knew they needed it in Switzerland, especially to care for the children.
They returned to the road, the tension easing the closer they got to the Switzerland. York decided to drive to the border, or at least within sight of it, before retiring for the evening.
It was after dark when the roads no longer matched the route they had planned. York pulled the ambulance to the side of the road and studied the map with a flashlight.
“What’s wrong?’ Amanda asked.
“We should have reached Gottmadingen by now,” he said. “It’s a small village, right on the border. We must have missed a turn.”
“Can’t you tell where we are by the map?”
He looked a moment more, and then studied the fuel gauge. “No,” he said. “Everything looks the same.”
“But we should be able to find the village.”
“All I know is that we’re lost, we have to be at the border before dawn, and we’re almost out of petrol.”
“Let me see the map,” Amanda said. “It’s late. And you’re tired.”
York stretched and yawned, glanced at his watch, and gazed out the window. There were pockets of light, the distance to them hard to judge, but he assumed they were tiny villages. One of them must be Gottmadingen. They just had to determine which one.
Amanda studied the map, trying to assess where they were. There were few landmarks she could use to gauge their location. The landscape was farmland, fallow for the winter, intersected by groves of trees. The terrain was hilly, with occasional rocky outcrops, narrow ravines sometimes beside the road, all bathed in blackness. None were remarkable enough to be noted on the map.
“Let’s get out and look around,” she said.
She left the vehicle, York right behind her. They turned in a full circle, unable to identify anything more than what they saw from the window. They were lost.
“It’s easy to get disorientated,” York said. “Especially when everything looks the same.”
“Let’s look from a higher elevation.”
There was a small knoll on the far edge of the road. They climbed to the top and, even though it wasn’t very high, they could see the lights from a hamlet a few kilometers away, what they thought was the east, which could be their destination. But there were also lights in the opposite direction, what they assumed was southwest.
“Maybe that’s Gottmadingen,” Amanda said, pointing east.
“But how do we know?” York asked. “I can’t waste petrol driving the wrong way.”
She pointed to the map with the flashlight. “I think we missed this turn, which would have taken us through town. If we go to the next crossroad and make a left, it will take us around the village and to the road across the border. A little farther, but it gets us there.”
York shrugged. “Let’s give it a try.”
They got back in the ambulance and started the engine. York eased out the clutch and they went to the next crossroad. He turned left and followed the road about a kilometer when the engine started to cough, the vehicle jerking forward and then stopping.
They looked at each other, sharing an anxious glance, as York turned the starter. The engine came to life, sputtered, moved the vehicle a few feet, and stopped again.
A series of large haystacks sat evenly spaced by the side of the road, with acres of farmland beyond them. York started the engine again, coaxed the ambulance off the road, and forced it forward before it came to rest behind a haystack. Then the engine died.
“We’re out of petrol,” he said. “Keep everyone in the ambulance and I’ll have a look around.”
“Should I come with you?”
He shook his head. “No, it’s better if you stay here. Let me see where we are.”
He got out of the vehicle and opened the rear door. Everyone was sleeping. He grabbed the empty petrol can and walked to the road.
The vehicle was hidden by the haystack. He walked to the west. The rear door was visible from the road, but only if you knew where to look. He went east. It was the same; the front end could be seen from the road. Since they hadn’t seen a vehicle for the last two or three hours, and they were now in a very rural area of dirt lanes, he thought they would be all right for the night.
The road ran to the east and, assuming Amanda had correctly identified their location, he started walking in that direction. The lights on his left should be the town of Gottmadingen. If she was right, the border crossing was very close. They could walk to it. If she was wrong, he would have to steal more petrol.
He had gone just over a kilometer when Gottmadingen spread a bit to the south, a narrow dirt lane twisting from the tip of civilization. He walked to the road, which was unmarked, and went due south. Just ahead a fence intersected the farm fields, and a grove of trees sat on either side of the lane. Two rectangular stones protruded a half meter from the ground.
York walked up to the first stone and saw Steiner Weg etched in it. He had the right road. He went to the fence, where the larger stone was located. One side read, Deutschland, while the other side, facing Gottmadingen, was marked Schweiz.
York was standing in Switzerland.
CHAPTER 73
York considered Max’s instructions, which were very explicit: only cross the border at dawn, or everyone would be killed or captured. Yet he just saw a deserted crossing. They could all walk to safety, if they left immediately. Or could they? York knew what he saw, but what didn’t he see? There had to be more, there had to be a hidden danger, or Max wouldn’t have been so insistent.
He returned to the ambulance and found Amanda waiting anxiously.
“Did anyone come by?” he asked.
“No, I saw nothing but darkness. And I checked the back. Everyone’s asleep.”
He looked at his watch. It was after 11 p.m.
“What did you find out?” she asked.
“You were right,” he said. “We’re just southwest of Gottmadingen, a kilometer or so from the border crossing. Do you think everyone can make it if we walk? We can cut across the fields to make
it shorter.”
Amanda pictured those in the back of the bus. “I’m not sure about Millie. She’s very sick. And there’s one little girl, the one with the thick glasses, that seems to have a breathing disorder, maybe asthma.”
“We can stop and rest as often as we need to,” he said. “And I can carry Millie.”
“Should we leave now?” Amanda asked.
York hesitated. “My contact said we had to cross the border at dawn. He was adamant, and said we were all at risk if we crossed at any other time.”
“You were just there and no one stopped you.”
He shrugged. “I know. But maybe I arrived at the right time. The guard may have been taking a break or getting a cup of coffee.”
“Then I suppose we should get some sleep,” Amanda said. “We seem safe here.”
“We should still leave before dawn, while it’s dark. We’ll be walking through open fields most of the way. We would be easy to see. There are fourteen of us.”
“It’s almost midnight now. What time should we leave?”
“Before six, if we can. We’ll have a quick breakfast, grab our belongings, and start walking. Sunrise is after seven, probably near eight.”
“I have an alarm clock,” she said. “We just haven’t needed it until now. But I’ll set it for 5:45.”
York was thoughtful for a moment, undecided. “I still don’t understand why it’s so critical to cross the border at dawn. We haven’t seen a German soldier for miles.”
She studied his face, noting the concern. “If you want to go now, I can wake everyone. But there won’t be anyone in Switzerland to greet us. They’ll all be in bed.”
He thought for a moment. Max had been so specific. It was the one detail he emphasized. And more than once. He must have had a reason.
“The children are tired,” he said reluctantly. “They need their rest. And so does Millie. Let’s set the alarm earlier. If we eat quickly, and can maintain some sort of progress during the walk, we’ll be at the border by seven at the latest.”
“All right, I put the batteries in and set the alarm for 5 a.m.”
Amanda put the clock on the dashboard and they drifted off to sleep. It had been an exhausting few days, tense and stressful, wrought with danger. But knowing they were so close offered sweet dreams, especially with the prospect of freedom and all that came with it. They slept soundly.
*
It seemed like only minutes had passed when the alarm sounded. Amanda turned it off and returned the clock to her purse, yawning and stretching. She leaned over and kissed York on the forehead.
“Time to get up, darling,” she said.
She opened the portal and called Erika, and a few minutes later they could hear the children stirring in the back of the ambulance.
York rubbed his face, willing away the weariness. He checked the pistol in his coat pocket, then climbed out, his cane in tow. Amanda followed.
They opened the back door and let the children mill about. They ate a light breakfast and then washed up with some water Erika had left. When everyone was finished, York removed all the baggage, stacking twelve bags of various sizes on the ground. Once unloaded, he made one last check of the ambulance to make sure they had everything they wanted.
“Can you pick up your bags?” he asked the children. “And then we’ll go for a walk across the fields.”
They started out slowly, Samuel helping Millie, while Inga and Erika managed Sarah and the others. They started walking single file but soon merged into a group. York found the hardest task was to keep the children focused. It took little to attract their attention, a butterfly or a bird, even the remnants of a corn cob.
They stopped often so Millie could rest, perching her on two of the bags, like a princess, while she regained her strength. The children did remarkably well, trying to be adults, and once again York marveled at how well-behaved they were, even if a bit noisy and distracted, a tribute to both Erika and Inga.
Even with frequent pauses they made steady progress and, in a little over an hour, the road was clearly defined in the darkness. York realized they would reach their objective early, but given his reconnaissance the evening before, he saw no issues. The sooner they got to Switzerland, the better. He even regretted not having gone at midnight.
They passed the grove of trees on the side of the border and reached the road. York waited for all to assemble, and then he pointed to the markers that were only meters away.
“Those stones identify the border,” he said. “We’ll be safe once we cross it.”
They moved forward, taking a few tentative steps to freedom, and then the entire road was flooded with light.
CHAPTER 74
The blinding glare came from headlamps, two cars hidden in trees on each side of the lane. The children screamed, startled and afraid, covering their eyes. The adults were stunned, unable to grasp that triumph had been stolen by tragedy. They stood in front of the children, trying to shelter them.
Four men stepped from the shadows, two from each side. They converged on the road, standing between the refugees and the Swiss border.
“You’re early, Michael,” a voice called.
York was startled. He thought he recognized the voice, but he couldn’t confirm it. Blinded by lights, he could only see shadowy figures.
“Max?” he asked tentatively, blinking.
Max stood on the road, an older man beside him. York had seen the man before. He had been with Max at different cafes around the city, a member in his network.
“Thank you, Mr. York,” a voice boomed. “You verified my escape route. If you can get out of Germany with a bus full of imbeciles, then anyone can.”
“Michael, drop your pistol to the ground,” Max said sternly. “And then kick it away.”
York did as ordered, his heart sinking. He was numb, unable to believe what was happening. He trusted Max with his life, and he always had. How could he have been so wrong?
Manfred Richter stepped forward, Albert Kaiser standing beside him.
“Amanda, darling, how nice to see you,” Manfred said, a sly smile pasted on his face. “I was afraid my liaisons might make you betray me.”
Amanda cast him a sullen stare, her face contorted with hatred. She then glared at Kaiser, a man she loved and trusted, now knowing she never should have.
“Mr. York’s purpose in Berlin was to test you,” Manfred continued, looking at Amanda with contempt. “I thought you might be persuaded to cooperate, but I never dreamed you would run away with him.”
“Let us walk across the border,” Amanda said bitterly. “And you’ll never have to see me again.”
“Oh, my dear, Amanda,” Richter, laughed, his arms open. “I could never do that. We love each other too much. Fortunately, I have a big heart. So we can forgive and forget.”
“Not a chance,” she said. “I despise you. That will never change.”
Richter ignored her and turned to Erika Jaeger. “I always liked you, Erika. But I must say I’m disappointed.”
Erika lunged forward, her husband’s chisel in her right hand. The blade glistened in the light, sharp and defined, dangerous and deadly. She aimed for his throat, channeling her hatred into one deadly strike.
Richter raised his left hand, blocked the blow, and smacked her face. He wrenched the chisel from her hand and threw it into the brush beside the road.
She stood timidly, her hand touching her bruised cheek, and moved back towards the children, fighting tears.
“Leave her alone, Richter,” York said. His warning was weak. Outgunned and outnumbered, he had no way of protecting anyone.
“No one told you to speak, Mr. York,” Richter said. “So shut up.”
York ignored him. Even though he suspected the truth, he didn’t want to believe it. He turned towards his old friend. “Max, what’s going on?”
“Oh, Michael, how can you be so stupid,” Max scolded. “These are my associates.” He pointed to his left. “Captain Klein
, an acquaintance from the last war. You know Mr. Kaiser. And I’m sure you’ve heard of our leader, Manfred Richter.”
York felt like a fool, stupid and betrayed. His mind wandered through the past, searching for signs, a thousand questions now unanswered.
“What about the posters?” he asked Max. “The whole city was looking for you.”
“I needed to make sure you trusted me,” Max said simply. “You walked past Richter and me at a café. I was certain you saw us. But I overestimated your powers of observation.”
“Why do all this?” York asked, crestfallen. “Why create this charade?”
“Do you mean why did I let you and your companions get your hopes up? Or why did I bring you to Berlin at all?” He paused, enjoying the drama. “I had to know who the spy was. I knew it wasn’t Kaiser. Richter and I were afraid it might be Amanda. But I knew whoever it was sold valuable information to the Allies, and we had to find them. You proved it was Faber, and you kept British Intelligence happy with nonsense, like stupid photographs of Hitler and Goebbels.”
“I enjoyed it immensely,” Manfred Richter added. “Sorry about the boathouse. I couldn’t help toying with you, taking the boat out. But you’re a resourceful man, Mr. York. You surprised me.”
“You’re an animal, Richter. I will hunt you down and kill you.”
Richter laughed. “I doubt that.”
“Michael, you’re beaten,” Max said. “Accept it.”
Richter turned to Amanda. “Come with me, Amanda. You, too, Erika. Get your bags, you’re returning to Berlin. Mr. Kaiser has selected a new viola player and we need violinists. A concert has already been scheduled for Saturday.”
Amanda lunged forward, crying, pummeling his face, clawing and scratching, her arms swinging wildly. “I hate you!” she screamed.
He took a step back, surprised, and raised his hands to defend himself. Once he fought her off, he swung his right fist, hitting her on the side of the head. She dropped to the ground.
York moved to help her, but was stopped by Max. He thrust his pistol in York’s face. “Not a good idea.”
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