Hannah knew exactly what to make of it, but she had no intention of letting the Doctor know that. She felt that his interest was purely scientific, but she knew all too well how persuasive the Nazis could be when there was power to be had. She leaned in closer, pretending to examine the script.
“It certainly shares some similarities with Arabic, but it isn’t like anything I’ve ever seen before.” She gestured to the smaller ring. “See these markings, here and here?” When he nodded, she continued. “They’re more akin to hieroglyphs.”
“Can you make any sense of it at all?” He studied her face.
“I’m not certain, but I think the hieroglyphs may be the key to deciphering the script around the larger ring.” She hoped her explanation would be sufficient to satisfy the Doctor and buy her some time.
“Do you think you could decipher it, dear?”
She furrowed her brow. “I might be able to, but I’ll need some time to study the markings. Is there a library nearby?”
“Well, yes, there is. Do you think you’ll be able to find anything of use?”
“They may have some Arabic texts that I can use for a baseline comparison.” She paused and rubbed her chin. “Where did you say the artifact was found, Doctor?”
He studied her a moment before answering. “It was discovered on an archaeological dig near Patay. The Vichy thought it might be of interest to the Fuhrer, so they presented it to the local command. Eventually it came to the attention of Doctor Goebbels, and he tasked me with studying it to see if the strange source of its energy could be harnessed.”
Harnessed. That’s exactly what she was worried about. There was no telling what kind of destruction would be unleashed if the Nazi’s were successful. She knew that the true power of the book could only be drawn out when all of the protectors were gathered before it. She also knew that the Nazis were quite resourceful, and that they just might be able to break it open with their arsenal of equipment given the chance.
“And what are the electromagnetic devices for?”
For a brief moment she thought she detected a look of surprise on his face. He cleared his throat and looked away when he answered.
“Just a test to see how the device would react to a direct bombardment.”
“And?”
He looked back up at her. “Pardon?”
“What were the results?”
“Oh yes, of course…the results. The artifact seems to respond by storing up a greater amount of energy. Which then dissipates quite rapidly once the bombardment stops.” He scratched his head and looked around the tabletop. He picked up a well-worn notebook and flipped through the pages. “I haven’t really learned anything productive in that regard. Why don’t you go ahead and take some rubbings of the rings for your research.”
He tore a sheet of paper from the notebook and handed her a thick pencil with a dull point. She accepted them and set about taking detailed rubbings of the intricate script and symbols from the book. Most of it was for the Doctor’s benefit. She was already familiar with the script. It had been imprinted on her when the book was first brought down from the heavens. While she certainly didn’t remember that lifetime, she remembered the script.
“I think I’ve got a pretty complete sampling, Doctor. Do you have a car that I could take to the library?”
He hesitated before answering. “I’m afraid Lieutenant Wozniak was quite insistent that you have an escort when you travel in the city.” When she started to protest, he put up a hand. “It’s for your own safety, dear. After all, the square right outside was just bombed. I couldn’t bear to think what I would do if any harm came to you.”
She thought about protesting further, but she could see that he was genuinely worried for her safety, so she just nodded.
“Thank you, my dear.” He patted her hand. “I’ll have Niklas bring a car around front for you.”
“Niklas? Why does that name sound familiar?”
He gave her a little smile. “He’s the handsome young lad that’s been assigned to keep an eye on the residents in your apartment building. Quite an amiable fellow.”
“Oh yes, I remember him now.” She returned the Doctor’s smile even though she didn’t share his assessment of Niklas. Her first impression was that he was too eager to please, and when you worked for the Nazis, eagerness was a dangerous trait.
***
Hannah had to give the Doctor credit. He certainly traveled in style. When she walked out the front doors of the Capitole, Niklas was waiting at the bottom of the steps, holding the door of a shiny, black Mercedes-Benz open for her. The Doctor must carry quite a bit of clout, she thought. Typically these cars were reserved for high-ranking officers and heads of state. The car was a convertible affair with a spare tire recessed into a sweeping front fender. She reveled in the irony that a car meant for transporting the elite of the Nazi Party would now be chauffeuring a Jew throughout an occupied city, and in a small way at least, helping her to thwart their efforts.
Niklas looked almost as well put together as the car. His gray wool trousers were tucked neatly into gleaming black riding boots. Even the coat looked as though it had seen no real action. The buttons were entirely too polished, and the lapels were creased to perfection. He was definitely overeager, she thought.
“Good morning, Miss Klein. The Doctor instructed me to take you to the library.” He clicked his heels and stood at attention. She wondered how she merited such deference.
“At ease soldier.” She slid into the front seat and rested her arm on the door. “You do know where it is, don’t you?”
“Affirmative, Miss.” He sat down next to her, pulled the door closed, and started the car.
The Mercedes growled to life as though it had been waiting for the opportunity. Niklas eased it through the square and around the Capitole in the opposite direction of the chaos of recent events, although much of the damage had already been cleaned up.
The air was brisk enough that she was glad she was wearing her wool coat, but not so cool as to be uncomfortable. In fact, if she hadn’t been with the enemy, the car ride would have been rather pleasant.
Niklas traversed a route similar to the one she had the night before. They turned down the same lane lined with apartments, skirting the river. The surroundings looked quite different in the daylight. It was a beautiful city to be sure, but there was something missing. Hannah didn’t realize what it was at first. Then it came to her gradually. It was a lack of people. No, that wasn’t exactly it either. There were people on the streets, but they all walked with a purpose. They all appeared to have destinations in mind. There were no children playing in yards, or amorous couples strolling idly. Just those that had a need to get from one place to another. Heads down, feet moving. It reminded Hannah that it wasn’t necessary to lock someone in a cell to imprison them.
Niklas slowed the car and turned down a wide avenue. It was the bridge. The same one she had crawled across. She could see the spires of the church on the other side reaching skyward as if pleading for help from above. They drove over the bridge and past the church. The big green doors were closed. She wondered what had happened to the Bishop. Maybe she could sneak out of the library, double back and check on him. If he was alright, she needed to let him know that there would probably be extra security in front of her apartment. It might not be the safest place for one of the young boys to deliver a message from Jacques. Perhaps she could arrange a new meeting place. Yes, that’s exactly what she would do, just as soon as she lost Niklas. If she could loose him.
Chance Encounter
The enormity of everything that had happened over the last couple of days pressed down on Ana, making it difficult for her to breathe. She kissed Lee on the cheek one final time and sat back in the seat. She sobbed. For how long, she didn’t know. It was only the sound of sirens that brought her back to the moment.
Ana checked the gun and realized it was empty. She pulled another clip
out of the glove compartment and reloaded. It was then she remembered the address that Lee told her about. A little yellow slip of paper with neat printing rested on top of a roadmap. She didn’t recognize the address, but she stuck it in her pocket along with the map. There was no name on the paper, but she would worry about that when the time came. For now, she needed to get as far away from the car as possible. The police would most certainly want to detain a woman covered in blood with a gun leaving the scene of an accident.
She looked in the rearview mirror, and did her best to wipe the blood from her cheek. A second later a big, black Mercedes screeched to a halt at the end of the alley. Something just below the surface roiled up within her, something dark and familiar. It was the rage. She decided these men would be the best recipients.
Two men erupted from the back of the Mercedes, each taking up positions on either side of the alley. The driver stepped out and took cover behind the hood.
“Ana, come out slowly. We don’t want to hurt you.”
She didn’t bother with a reply. Instead, she shot the back glass out of the BMW and peppered the front tire of the Mercedes with bullets. The man behind the hood ducked down further, but didn’t return fire. One of the other men was crouched behind a dumpster. She lost sight of the other.
The sirens were getting louder now. She knew these men would be in a hurry to grab her before the police arrived.
She pushed her door open, fired off several rounds toward the dumpster, and then darted from the car to a recessed doorway for cover. Just as she turned around, a shot pulverized a brick at the edge of the frame. She fired blindly, scanning the alley for her attacker. She knew that they had orders to take her alive, but that obviously didn’t preclude them from shooting her in the legs.
A moment later, she caught sight of the other man, he had moved down the alley in an attempt to box her in. He raced from his point of cover toward her side of the street. Bad move. Ana drew a bead on him, expelled a deep breath, and shot him through the chest. He fell to the ground in a heap.
The sirens were right on top of them now. She heard the first man shout out something to the man behind the dumpster. A second later he erupted from his point of cover, but this one didn’t take any chances. He shot wildly in Ana’s direction and dove over the hood of the Mercedes. She didn’t wait to watch them get in the car. Instead, she fired off another couple of rounds, and sprinted down the alley in the opposite direction.
A teenager with a dirty apron stepped out into the alley carrying a bag of trash. He didn’t seem to notice the chaos around him. After a moment, she realized why. He had earphones on and was mouthing the words to whatever song was playing on his radio.
Ana rushed him before he had a chance to look up. She grabbed his apron and pointed the gun at him. He nearly fell backwards. The look on his face was a mix of confusion and terror. He put his arms up and started babbling something that Ana couldn’t quite make out. Another quick tug on the apron and he seemed to get her drift. He untied it and handed it to her. She waved the gun back down the alley, suggesting that he clear out as fast as possible. He didn’t take much encouragement.
When the boy was around the corner, she put on the apron, tucked the gun into the waist of her jeans, and then put the apron on. At least it would cover a little of the blood, she thought.
The door was still open, so she pushed her way inside, finding herself in a dim washroom, presumably in a restaurant. She heard footsteps, but didn’t have time to react before another man came around the corner.
“Hey, Paul, what was all that racket out—“ The man stopped dead when he saw her.
She smiled and shrugged.
“Who are you?” He started to walk toward her.
Ana grabbed a tray off of a counter and hurled it at his head. When he ducked, she rushed past him and into the kitchen. Apparently the kitchen was noisy enough that her antics had not yet aroused much attention. One of the cooks gave her an odd look, but continued stirring whatever was in the large pot on the stove.
A pair of double doors swung open, and a towheaded boy hefting a large tray of dishes erupted into the kitchen. Ana heard shouting from behind her. She turned to see the man she had thrown the tray at come running out of the washroom. Without hesitation, she grabbed the boy with the tray and launched him at the other man. The boy screamed as dishes and glasses went spiraling off the tray in every direction.
The clattering and shattering of ceramic and glass echoed through the small space. Ana pirouetted past the boy and out the double doors. The dining area, which had presumably been full of activity and idle chatter, now sat in silence. All eyes were fixed on her. She screamed, pointed toward the kitchen, and then ran headlong for the front of the restaurant. She was out the front door before anyone could react.
The street was a bustle of activity. Each side of the wide lane was lined with bistros and shops, and people of all ages filled the sidewalks. Only those closest to the restaurant seemed to notice her hasty exit, and apparently the blood on her blouse convinced them to give her a wide berth. She walked briskly past them and did her best to blend in with the crowd. Clothes. She definitely needed fresh clothes, she thought.
A trendy store up the street looked promising. She folded her arms across her chest, doing her best to cover up as much of the blood as possible, and walked with her head down until she reached the shop.
A twenty-something girl stood behind a stark counter, her attention focused on the phone at her ear. The store itself was long and narrow, with just enough room for the sort of girls this outlet was aimed at, to fit down the aisles. Ana darted inside, grabbed a pair of jeans off of a low table and a red silk blouse from an adjacent rack. She held them up in front of her as she passed by the attendant while she motioned toward the fitting rooms. The girl narrowed her eyes, but otherwise said nothing. She just waved her on and kept talking on the phone.
Ana was relieved to find that the fitting room, although impossibly small, had a lock. She quickly bolted it behind her and hung the clothes on a hook. She nearly fainted when she saw herself in the mirror. There was still a streak of blood on her chin and her hair looked as if she had been in a wind tunnel.
She took the apron and the blood soaked shirt off, carefully wrapping the shirt inside the apron. She balled it up and shoved it under the slat of wood that she could only assume was a bench. Then she licked her fingers and rubbed at the blood on her chin. It wasn’t perfect, but she managed to get the worst of it cleaned up. The red blouse went a long way to camouflage the pinkish traces at her neckline. She had the shirt buttoned and her hair patted back into place when a man’s voice called out to her.
“Miss?”
She tried to estimate how close the man was. Pretty close, she thought.
“Miss? I need you to come out please.”
“What’s wrong?” She realized for the first time that she had effortlessly transitioned to German, even though she didn't remember speaking it before.
“I need to ask you a few questions.” The voice was deep and calm. Not a store manager. A seasoned professional. She detected the hint of authority that came with a lifetime of experience.
“What’s the problem…officer?”
“How did you know I am with the police?”
“Lucky guess.”
She thought she could hear the man fidgeting with something. Was he drawing his weapon?
“I need you to come out slowly, Miss.” His voice maintained its calm demeanor.
She pulled the gun from her waistband, and aimed it at the door, gauging his position from the sound of his voice. She hoped she wouldn’t have to shoot an innocent man.
“I’m coming out.” She slid the lock back and then reaffirmed her grip on the gun before pushing the door open with her foot.
The man was just left of her behind a rack of sequined
tops, and, just as she thought, had his weapon drawn. The shop attendant was nowhere to be found.
“Don’t do anything you’re going to regret, Miss.” His bright eyes assessed her in a matter of seconds. The salt and pepper hair spoke to his years of experience.
She was confident he wouldn’t do anything rash, but she was equally confident that he wouldn’t just let her walk out of the store.
“I don’t want to shoot you, but this situation is bigger than either of us. I’m afraid I can’t just put my gun down and leave with you.” She hoped that he could see the determination in her eyes.
“And I’m afraid I can’t just let you leave here.” He kept his weapon trained on her midsection as his eyes roved over her, sizing her up, calculating the odds. “I’ve already called for backup. They’ll be here any minute.”
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