by Erika Robuck
“Your name!” the assailant shouted in German-accented English.
Virginia had sucked in her breath but didn’t reply as they forced her at knifepoint out of bed. She’d stumbled, trying to regain her balance on one leg. Cuthbert stood, indifferent, below the window. Cold, sickening fear had gripped her until one of them called her a cripple in German.
“Hitler would gas you,” another said in English.
All fear was replaced with anger, steeling her. Her temper had its perks.
They’d dragged her out the door, while she hopped on her good leg to keep up. She was taken all the way to the basement, thrown in a chair, her hands tied behind her, the rope tearing the skin of her wrists. A light was thrown on her face, shadowing her interrogators—one in front of her, one behind—leaving her exposed and vulnerable.
For hours, they’d questioned her. Just when she was sure it was a test, they would dump a bucket of ice water over her, and she thought it wasn’t. Then, as suddenly as it all began, the interrogators turned off the light and locked her in the dark basement. Rodents squeaked along the walls, and her teeth chattered from the ice baths. She didn’t know how much time passed, but, maybe an hour or two later, she heard a key in the lock. She sat up straight, trying to control her shaking. In the light from the hall she saw a welcome silhouette: her instructor. He had cut her loose, wrapped a blanket around her shoulders, and helped her all the way back to her room. She felt as if she’d collapse, and couldn’t wait to sleep off the traumas of the night.
“Meet in the yard in ten minutes,” he said.
With a groan, she draped her soaked nightgown over her desk chair, strapped on her prosthetic, changed into her pants and boots, and slid a knife in its holder. Her clock read five thirty in the morning. In the yard, she found a team of five assembled in the dark—all the recruits that were left from the original thirty. She was given a raid map and a destination. A quick scan revealed the trail was almost six kilometers. As they set out, hints of dawn lay on the horizon, but the great, glowing moon remained.
The hike was brutal. She was bruised, parched, injured, and exhausted beyond comprehension. Yet as they dodged and killed mock enemies, advanced toward their goal—as the sun rose with its brilliance—Virginia felt a superhuman strength building in her. At the top of the final climb, after they’d slashed the tires on the vehicles and laced the escape routes with faux explosives, they ambushed the group of men in German uniforms who ran from the cottage, firing on them with blank shells, and engaging in hand-to-hand combat. When the mock raid was complete and successful, Vera had emerged from the forest, as smoothly as if they were meeting at a dinner party.
“Congratulations. You have not only completed a training program most people wouldn’t have hopes of surviving a fifth of, you’ve done so with courage and flying colors.”
Vera gazed down the line and, letting her stare rest on Virginia, gave her a nod.
“Now, let’s set Europe ablaze.”
Virginia had wanted more physical training before this mission, but there hadn’t been the time or resources. They were all stretched thin as frayed rope.
“Bonsoir,” says a voice.
The group jumps in surprise, and Virginia draws her knife, lunging toward the figure. She’s intercepted by Lavi just in time. Wild-eyed in the dark, the boy stares at the blade in terror. Lavi slaps his son and whispers a tirade of curses and reprimands, while Mimi tries to calm him. Virginia falls to sitting on the ground, trying to catch her breath.
Then comes the sound: the low drone. They stop and look heavenward for the answer to their prayers.
Climbing to standing, Virginia puts her knife away with a shaking hand and pulls out her flashlight. Mimi moves to take the boy, but Virginia grasps his hand and pulls him along with her. He wipes his tears and runs to keep up with her as she strides to the top of the field. The others fan out around her and, once Virginia places her flashlight in the boy’s hands and flicks it on, the others follow—points of light reaching to the heavens. She wraps her hands around his to flick the dash, dot, dot. Morse code, D, for Diane. The plane returns the signal, and soon three parachutes drift toward the ground. Lights off, the Maquis fetch the horse and cart from the barn at the edge of the field, and the group rushes to unpack, sort, and bury the containers.
Each discovery gives joy to the men around her, and she has trouble keeping them quiet. Cigarettes, canned meat, astringent, gauze, tape. It’s the weapons that bring them to near ecstasy. Sten guns—lightweight and easy to assemble—grenades, pistols, explosive kits—dozens of them. Once the supplies are loaded into the cart and they hurry alongside it to the barn, the Maquis on either side of Virginia lift her, bearing her like a queen all the way. When she insists they put her down, Lavi catches her, wrapping her in an embrace that swallows her up. She gives him a stiff pat and pulls away as quickly as she’s able.
“Diane,” he says. “Forgive me. For doubting you. I just didn’t think a . . .”
“I knew she could,” says Mimi, kissing her friend on both cheeks.
Next, the boy creeps toward her.
“I’m sorry, too. I . . .” His voice trails off.
Virginia kneels down to his eye level.
“I accept your apology,” she says. “But if you want to help, you must first get approval from your superiors. Is that clear?”
“Oui, Madame.”
She stands, keeping her face serious as she looks at the Maquis. They stare at her with a mixture of disbelief and adoration, clearly awaiting a speech or some words of encouragement. But in her mind, their faces become those of the three musketeers. Then those of her Lyon network.
Don’t get attached.
She crosses her arms over her chest and leaves them.
Chapter 11
Virginia can’t stay with these people.
She’s halfway through her life expectancy in the field. She’s managed two successful drops. But the memories that yank her out of time keep coming, and the carnage left in her wake from Lyon and Crozant continually plays out in her nightmares. She cannot—will not—have Mimi and her family meet the same fate.
Early in the morning of her twenty-fifth day, Virginia freshens her disguise makeup, packs her clothing suitcase, and finds Mimi in the kitchen to insist she find another safe house.
“Please,” says Mimi. “The boy knows he was wrong to sneak up on us at the drop. It won’t happen again.”
“I almost killed him.”
What she has barely admitted to herself is that, in that moment, she saw the face of the betrayer. She’s a liability to this family.
“But you didn’t,” says Mimi. “He’s fine. We’re all fine.”
“We’re all fine until we aren’t. I need a new safe house.”
“No, please.”
“Another safe house,” Virginia continues. “A second place to wire HQ. Even if it’s a barn. It’s not yet time for me to leave—we need at least one more drop for the Maquis here—but I can’t keep transmitting from this house.”
“I will discipline my son better.”
“No, it isn’t his fault. Or yours. It’s the nature of the work. I can’t be around children. And I can’t always control my temper.”
“None of us are perfect.”
Exasperated, Virginia runs her hands down her face.
“Please,” says Mimi, reaching out and holding Virginia’s arms. “With Lavi in the forest, I feel safer having someone like you here.”
“That’s an illusion,” says Virginia.
Mimi stares at her until a knock at the door startles them. Its quick staccato has urgency. Virginia goes to the dining room to look out the window while Mimi checks the peephole and opens the door. Though the young woman’s eyes have dark circles underneath them and her skin is pale, she’s a beauty.
“How long since you’ve had a
housekeeper?” the woman asks.
“It has been a long time,” says Mimi, closing the door.
The young woman has black hair, red lips, and red nails. Virginia can see why Louis is enamored.
“Sophie?” says Virginia, stepping from the shadows.
“Oui,” the woman says. “Louis has been here?”
“Yes,” says Mimi. “He’ll be so glad to know you’ve arrived safely.”
“Thank God,” Sophie says.
“Come, have a seat,” says Mimi. “I’ll get you some water.”
Virginia follows Sophie to the sitting room but doesn’t join her. She stands, facing the front of the house, keeping an eye on the street in case this conspicuous young woman was followed. Mimi soon returns with a glass of water and a slice of bread, which Sophie devours.
“I’m sorry,” Sophie says. “It’s been a hard couple of days.”
“No apologies,” says Mimi. “How can we help you?”
After a long drink of water, Sophie takes a deep breath. Virginia notices she doesn’t carry a wireless suitcase. Louis said Sophie was a pianist.
“Where’s your B2?” Virginia says.
“I failed to make contact on my first transmission, so the section leader, Hector, dismissed me for another pianist. He kept the B2.”
The wireless is not easy to operate, but the fact that Sophie wasn’t successful with it doesn’t speak well for her.
“My training was rushed,” Sophie continues, as if answering Virginia’s thoughts. “I told Vera—”
“Stop,” says Virginia. “Keep names and networks to yourself. You need to return to HQ. I can connect you to an escape circuit through the Pyrenees, but it will take some time to arrange.”
“No.” Sophie stands. “I’m not going back.”
“I don’t have time to train you further as a pianist, and you have no equipment. As it is, my own is running low on batteries.”
“I can do something else. Run weapons, help with drops—anything. Use me!”
In spite of herself, Virginia is impressed with Sophie’s courage, but she’s still skeptical.
“We do need a courier,” says Mimi. “Desperately.”
She’s right. Since Virginia abandoned Aramis and all hopes of a courier through him, she could use one here. She typically doesn’t like couriers to be as noticeable as Sophie, but sometimes one has to use what one is given.
“Do you have a safe house in the region?” Virginia asks.
“Yes.”
“A courier needs to be inconspicuous,” says Virginia.
“I can be that,” Sophie says. She reaches in her pocket for a handkerchief and rubs off her lipstick. Then she arranges her face as sternly as possible.
“I see why my brother likes you,” says Mimi.
Sophie hugs Mimi, her face aglow, forming another crack in Virginia’s ice-encased heart. Sophie’s eagerness, her enthusiasm, the way she can’t hear the word no remind her of someone.
She reminds Virginia of her old self.
* * *
—
Since Mimi still hasn’t delivered on a second safe house, Virginia takes matters into her own hands. She finds an abandoned barn on a hillside, several kilometers from Cosne. The signal is terrible—the barn loft is rotten and unusable—forcing her transmission time to run longer from the need to repeat messages, but she still religiously signs off at the nineteen-minute mark.
She alerts HQ that Sophie will be their new courier. Virginia’s consolation is that the girl is vetted and at their disposal. With D-Day surely looming, they have little time to hesitate. Also, Virginia knows it will make Louis happy, and that pleases her.
In an attempt to make Sophie less conspicuous, they poke out the broken lenses of a pair of old glasses, dress her in drab clothing, and tousle her hair, but their efforts are futile. Sophie’s beauty is like a deep red rose. Even if there’s dirt on the petals, it’s evident.
Virginia sits with Sophie day after day, feeding her names, addresses, messages, and code phrases the girl writes over and over until impressed upon her memory, which is remarkable. Afterward, they burn the papers and send her out. On trains, on bicycle, on foot. To Hector’s network, to the Maquis, to Paris.
As much as Virginia hates to admit it, Sophie is a breath of fresh air. She works tirelessly. She never complains. She just wants more: more ways to help, more trips, more messages. Mimi is the same, ceaselessly moving, taking care of her house, her family, the network, and the villagers. The three of them have become quite a team.
Though her affection grows by the day, Virginia keeps her feelings close. These people must see her as a cold, burned-out bulb in a string of vibrant lights, but this is how it must be. She continues to push Mimi to find her another safe house.
“I’m working on it,” says Mimi. “But it must be equal to your excellence. A place you’ll feel comfortable and will benefit you. My question, if you’ll answer, is where you’ll go next. If I know, I can find a contact who can be a bridge between Cosne and the next place, someone of discretion and knowledge, a traveling companion who won’t annoy you.”
Virginia is pleased with the amount of thought Mimi has put into this. She had assumed her request was being ignored. Why does she make everyone an adversary? She must stop thinking the worst about people—these good people who are on her side.
Mimi stares at her, waiting. Virginia doesn’t want to reveal the place of her final destination, but she doesn’t have much choice. In spite of Mimi’s perfect trust of her network, there’s a carelessness to it. A bravado. They would never knowingly betray her, but they are so open and overconfident, mistakes can be made.
“I see you worrying about us,” says Mimi. “But if we aren’t worried about ourselves, why are you taking it on?”
These words—they’re almost exactly what she said to Vera over and over about sending her back to France. Mimi means them, but she needs to know what can happen.
“At my last stop,” says Virginia, “those who helped me ended up dead. On fence spikes. In a town square. Out for all to see. I can’t live if that happens to you or the boy.”
Mimi takes Virginia’s hands in hers.
“Diane, I need you to hear me. And I mean this. If my boy and I end up on fence spikes for this cause, it will not be your fault. We’re fighting evil itself. If we die doing so, we will be saints in heaven. Mighty saints, like those who have died before us. Like you, if you die.”
“I’m no saint,” says Virginia.
“Maybe not yet. But we are all saints in training, whether we know it or not. Now, tell me. Where is your next stop?”
Virginia swallows. Still holding on to Mimi’s hands, she takes a deep breath.
“My final destination is the mountain region of the Haute-Loire. Specifically, the village of Le Chambon-sur-Lignon.”
Mimi stares at Virginia a moment before a smile touches her lips. Virginia’s heartbeat quickens. Can Mimi tell her more than Vera would share?
“I see what the name does to you,” says Virginia. “Will you tell me why? What’s so special about a place most people have never heard of? I thought I might be getting demoted.”
“My friend,” says Mimi, giving Virginia’s hands a squeeze. “That certainly isn’t the case. You will find out soon enough. This information helps me greatly.”
Chapter 12
Calling farewell to Mimi, Virginia pulls on her shawl to go and meet the Maquis for explosives training. The boy intercepts her.
“Uncle’s coming!”
Virginia smiles, curious about why Louis has returned but glad to know he’s well. But as Louis strides into the room holding Sophie’s hand, Virginia’s happiness turns to fury.
“Look who I found on the road,” Louis says. “I demanded her papers and gave a thorough search of her person.”
/> Sophie laughs and kisses Louis. As Mimi enters the room and looks from the pair to Virginia, she loses her smile. Virginia clenches her hands into fists.
“I have a present for you,” says Louis, holding up a biscuit tin.
She stares at the tin but doesn’t take it. Instead she pushes past them, slams the door, and heads to the forest.
The farther Virginia gets from town, the more her blood pressure drops. Almost an hour later, as she enters the woods, she can think clearly.
Louis and Sophie have put them all in danger, and he, above all, should know better. Agents should not be seen frequently together—especially three of them in one location. Louis was there to see her Lyon network disintegrate. They both ended up having to escape—her first, him following months later—with Nazis on the hunt for them, and both were lucky to survive Spanish prisons. She’s always allowed Louis to keep her heart light, but this is not a game, and he can no longer treat it as such. If he won’t follow protocol, she’ll cut him and Sophie off.
When she arrives at the Maquis camp, they now greet her with warm shouts and waves. She looks around at them and thinks maybe she’ll move out here. Their clearing has become a tent village. They’ve designated medical and food storage tents, have dug a bunker covered with boards and branches for their arsenal, and have even set up a chalkboard area for instruction, where an explosive kit rests for her lesson. She knows men, however. As much respect as she has earned from them, they do not see her as one of them. But she’s spent her whole life dealing with that, one way or another, and it’s not going to stop her now.
When she spots Lavi, she whistles across the camp. He greets her with a smile, but his face becomes serious when he sees hers.
“What is it?” he says.
“Louis arrived.”