Hearts of Resistance

by Soraya M. Lane

  He pulled out a thin sheet of paper first, paper that had codes on it for Hazel. The Gestapo couldn’t take possession of it!

  She lunged for it, her movement fast, jerking down and forward and snatching it from him. Arms grabbed at her, roughly hauling her back by her stomach as Kurt jumped up to take it from her. But Rose was fast, far too fast for them. She didn’t bother to use her elbows to slam into the guard who had her from behind. Instead she frantically bit at the paper, tearing it with her teeth twice and quickly chewing.

  Kurt snatched what was left from her but she’d already eaten out the middle of it, which meant there would be no way it could possibly make any sense to any of them. His hand clamped around her jaw, trying to prise her mouth open, but Rose swallowed, gagging as she tried to push the paper down her throat. There wasn’t enough saliva, she hadn’t chewed it for long enough, but she was not going to give in until she’d forced it down.

  ‘You bitch!’ he swore in German, holding his hand back and slamming it into her face.

  She wanted to scream as pain echoed through her body, the crack loud, knowing he’d broken something, maybe her cheekbone. But instead she swallowed through the pain, opening her mouth wide once she was done to show him it was gone.

  He’d dropped down again, and she struggled against the hold the other man had on her. By now there were other guards, even civilians looking on, no doubt wondering what was going on and who she was.

  She saw him find the explosives at the same moment a rifle butt slammed into her head from behind. For a moment she saw the concrete coming up to meet her, but then everything went black.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  HAZEL

  Hazel smiled to herself as she puckered up and carefully applied her bright red lipstick. She’d used it the day Rose had left and the two days since, and she liked that it made her feel closer to her friend. She’d thought about her a lot since she’d left, wondering what she was doing and when to expect her back, but the truth was she might not see her for days and it didn’t necessarily mean anything had gone wrong. Or at least that’s what she was telling herself.

  She walked upstairs, back to the attic she was regularly transmitting from, reaching for her pencil the moment she sat down. She twirled it between her forefinger and thumb and settled down. This was the moment she’d been dreading. She needed to confirm the drop-off coordinates for Harry and a small group of other rescued airmen and an injured SOE agent, and the moment she did that, the reality of him leaving would start to set in because he’d be gone within hours.

  She didn’t want to see him go, but he needed to get out of here. His leg wasn’t healing well despite the amount of attention she was giving him, but she knew only basic first aid; it wasn’t as if she were a nurse.

  ‘Hazel?’

  She looked up, turning when there was a light knock at the door.

  ‘Hello,’ Hazel said, smiling at Sophia.

  ‘I’m heading out,’ she replied. ‘I wanted to see if you’d managed to confirm Harry’s passage?’

  She grinned. ‘Fingers crossed. He should be on his way tonight if I manage to get the final confirmation.’

  Sophia came forward, surprising her by putting her arms on her shoulders and then drawing her closer for a hug, dropping a kiss to the top of her head.

  ‘They say you’re the fastest they’ve ever seen at transmitting messages to London.’ Hazel laughed and hugged her back. It was awkward because she was still sitting, but she appreciated the affection. It still surprised her whenever Sophia was so kind, even after everything. But that day she’d killed the Nazi had changed something between them, even though neither of them had ever spoken about it again.

  ‘I’m lucky. Being a country mouse is definitely better than being a city one!’ She used their code terminology – radio operators were often called country or city mice depending on where they were transmitting from.

  ‘Don’t be so hard on yourself. You’re good at your job. Better than good, you’re great.’ Sophia stepped back and Hazel felt a strange shiver pass through her.

  ‘You’re not leaving, are you?’ she asked, keeping her voice low in case anyone was listening to them. The way Sophia had come to her seemed strangely final in a way. She hoped there was nothing going on that she didn’t know about.

  ‘No, of course not. I just, well, I don’t know. I’m worried about Rose, I suppose, and I feel, oh, I don’t even know what I’m trying to say.’ Sophia’s brows were knitted close together, like she was trying to figure something out.

  Hazel stood and hugged her again, holding her for longer, knowing how overwhelmed she’d felt at times and wanting to do anything she could to comfort Sophia. What they were doing, it was tough mentally, had made Hazel question so many things, but the one thing she’d never questioned was how dedicated Rose and Sophia were to the cause.

  ‘It’s like a little safe haven here, isn’t it?’ she said, finally letting go of Sophia.

  ‘It feels too safe. I don’t feel right about something, but I don’t know why.’ She let out a deep, audible breath. ‘I definitely want to leave when she gets back. The more I thought about what you said, about how we could be compromising our safety . . .’ Her words trailed off. ‘I just thought she’d be back by now. It’s making me jittery.’

  Hazel knew what she meant. ‘Look, if they knew we were here, if there were teams out there tracking my signals? They’d have stormed the place by now. There’s no way they would let me send another message.’ She didn’t mention Rose because she shared all the same worries.

  ‘I know, you’re right. But I felt safe at our last place, too. I never would have thought anyone there would have betrayed us.’

  Hazel patted Sophia’s shoulder before turning back to her radio. She hadn’t had any messages come through yet.

  She listened to the door open and shut, and then Sophia’s footsteps slowly receding. Her stomach swirled, something unsettling her, but she pushed the feeling away and settled back down to work.

  She put the headset to her ears and carefully sent her message by code. They had a delivery of arms scheduled to come in, and it was the best way to get Harry safely home, not to mention the other men. Certainly a whole lot better than having to smuggle him through a network of people to get him to Spain.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  ROSE

  Rose sat alone. They had her in a room, a cell, and she had no idea how she’d got there. All she knew was that she was sitting on concrete, her back to a wall, and she was dripping wet. She’d only woken when they’d thrown a bucket of cold water over her as she’d been lying on the hard floor, the puddle of water spread around her. She was shivering, her entire body convulsing, but she’d done her best. She’d twirled her long hair up and managed to knot it in place, with a few pins that had still been hanging from her hair helping to keep it in place, so it wasn’t dripping down her back. But she’d decided to keep her clothes on instead of stripping off to dry. There was no point risking her clothes being taken if they weren’t on her body, because at least with them on she could dry out slowly and then stay warm. If she even lived that long.

  Footsteps echoed out and she sat up straight, ready to look fear in the eye. They could scare her all they liked, but she wasn’t about to let them think they could get her to give anything away. Her only priority now was keeping her friends safe, and she would say nothing, nothing, to give their location or existence away. It would start to get dark again soon, she was certain of it, unless she’d been out for so long that she had lost an entire night.

  ‘Here she is,’ a man said in rough French, ‘our lovely new prisoner.’

  She stared at the man as he walked into the cell, his smile verging on cruel. He was eating a slice of bread and she looked away from it. He was trying to tease her, trying to make her salivate so she’d beg him for food. Only he had no idea just how stubborn she could be.

  ‘You might be a fool, but you’re beautiful,’ he said
, his accent thick. ‘We could still all have a lot of fun with you.’

  Rose gulped but she defiantly stared back at him. Rape would be a fate far worse than death for her, but every Gestapo in the region could rape her and she still wouldn’t talk. Scream, yes. Cry, certainly. Vow to slaughter every last one of them? Until my dying breath. But she would not let them torture her into giving her secrets away.

  ‘Tell us who you work for,’ he said. ‘I want to know everything. We’ve already found the others, so you have nothing left worth hiding.’

  She sat silently, her lips slightly parted, her breathing shallow. She didn’t believe him for a second. Who was he even pretending to have found?

  ‘We know where you came from and where you were going back to. It’s only a matter of time before we know everything.’

  Still she didn’t say a word, but the hairs on her back slowly prickled as she thought of Hazel and Sophia being captured.

  ‘Stand up!’ he barked.

  She glared at him but grudgingly did what he said. She would do whatever they asked, so long as they weren’t asking her to talk.

  He strode closer, the bread long gone as he wound his arm back and pummelled his fist into her stomach.

  ‘Arrghh,’ she cried out, hating the pained noise that escaped from her throat.

  ‘Tell me what I need to know,’ he said in a low voice, stroking her hair as she tried to stand from her doubled-over position. ‘Then I can be gentle with you.’

  She shook her head and he punched her again. Rose doubled back over, and he hit her a third time, slamming her back against the concrete wall. Tears escaped her eyes, as she cried out, yelping in pain.

  He walked away then, striding from the cell and calling over his shoulder.

  ‘You will talk,’ he said. ‘I am good at making women talk. Eventually.’

  ‘Bastard!’ She spat out the word but it came out low, barely audible, her lungs screaming as they tried to work. She gasped for air as she listened to his footsteps echo away from her, struggling to breathe, struggling to move. Struggling to stay coherent.

  They couldn’t know anything; it wasn’t possible. They might get close, but there was no way they could trace her back to the chateau.

  Rose shut her eyes, willing sleep to find her to take away the pain. She’d expected Kurt, knew he’d be furious that she’d deceived him, but in a way she’d expected to be able to sweet-talk him. To play on the attraction he’d had to her, beg for forgiveness, give him a few titbits of information to get him to trust her, to make it look like she was wanting to be turned.

  But her captor wasn’t Kurt. And that man? She was certain he’d taken great pleasure every time his fist had connected with her body.

  The shaking had stopped. When, she didn’t know, but her body had finally warmed enough to stop convulsing from the cold, her clothes no longer wet to her skin. But her feet were still like icicles, and no amount of jumping up and down or flexing and wriggling her toes had helped.

  Rose sat still, ears pricked. She’d had very little contact with anyone since her arrival, but she knew there must be others in cells nearby. It was so dark where she was, the only light an old lamp in the corner. And that was only ever turned on in the short time it took them to interrogate her.

  Today would be worse. They’d thrown icy water on her, pretended that they knew everything about her friends when she was certain they didn’t, flexed a few tools that were supposed to terrify her into talking for fear of them being used on her. None of that had worked, of course, which meant that today she was certain they’d start doing dreadful things to her instead of merely threatening to.

  She heard footsteps, soft at first but then becoming louder. It would no doubt be the same man, the one who made her feel sick just by looking at him. Her eye was swollen from having his fist slammed into her face so many times, and her jaw ached. But it wasn’t like she was being fed anything, so at least she’d been able to rest it.

  ‘Bonjour, my love.’ The thick German accent made her cringe, his words making her skin crawl. She knew that was exactly the reaction he wanted, but she could barely look at him when he flicked the light on and pushed open the cell door.

  ‘What, not even a “good morning”?’ he asked, speaking in German now.

  She sighed and stood, not wanting to be curled into a ball in a submissive position with him standing over her. She kept her back straight and her expression neutral.

  ‘Good morning,’ she said in perfect German.

  ‘Ah! She has a voice!’ he said, his sarcasm not lost on her.

  She waited to see what he would say to her next.

  ‘Are you hungry?’

  Rose nodded. There was no point lying; anyone in her position would be starving hungry. She actually had no idea how long she’d been captive, but she was certain it was long enough for Hazel and Sophia to know that something had gone terribly wrong. She thought of their safety constantly, hoped they weren’t locked in a cell somewhere, or worse. And Sebastian. Would her brother and his lovely wife still be safe? She’d been fretting about them since her capture, too. Was he still alive? Were they both safe?

  ‘Tell me what the codes mean,’ he said plainly. ‘All you need to do is give me something, some piece of information, and I’ll have breakfast sent down to you.’

  Rose thought for a moment, wondered whether she could tell him something trivial in exchange for something to eat. If she didn’t have something soon then her energy would diminish completely, and she needed to stay physically and mentally strong.

  ‘I know nothing of importance,’ she replied, deciding to stay standing so she didn’t feel so inferior beside him.

  ‘We know you are a courier,’ he said, spitting out the word. ‘You are transporting information and devices. That means you have information to give me. You are working for someone.’

  She knew there was no point flatly denying her involvement in the Resistance movement. They’d caught her with evidence. She was guilty, and there was no getting around that fact.

  ‘I know nothing because I was paid to take those things,’ she said quietly. ‘I needed more money, so I said yes, and they told me I had to make it back or I wouldn’t be paid. I am guilty.’

  He smiled as if he believed he’d been the one to push her into finally talking, as if his tactics had succeeded.

  ‘You see? So much easier when you talk.’ His laugh was sinister, or maybe she hated him so much that she was imagining the cruel undertones. ‘Perhaps we can be friends after all.’

  Rose nodded, forcing a tight smile. ‘I would receive a package, but I never saw who was delivering it. My job was to leave it near a train station,’ she lied.

  ‘That is all?’ he asked.

  Rose smiled. ‘Yes. I don’t want to get into trouble. I never meant to do anything wrong.’

  ‘I will get you something to eat. I am a man of my word,’ he announced as he turned around. ‘When you’re ready, you will tell me the rest.’

  She watched him go, knew the second she saw him hesitate he was going to turn and say something else.

  ‘If you don’t tell me everything?’ he said in a low, quiet voice. ‘Then you will never eat again. I promise you that.’

  Rose didn’t doubt him. He liked her being passive, and if she didn’t stay that way, she was certain her life would be short and miserable. She could die here, and no one would care. But she didn’t want this filthy Nazi to get the satisfaction of seeing her take her last breath.

  He returned with a piece of bread, covered in dripping, and a chipped cup half-full of water. She took it gratefully.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said, eyeing the piece of bread, her mouth full of saliva as she anticipated her first bite. She didn’t care what it tasted like or how old it was; eating something, anything, would help her to stay alive.

  Rose waited for him to leave before eating. Her stomach growled and groaned loudly in response, but she ate slowly. She chewed every tiny mo
uthful well and swallowed it down before pausing and taking another, wanting to feel full, knowing it might be the last thing she ate for some time. She sipped the water, too, a few little mouthfuls before finishing the piece of bread. She was still hungry, but it had taken the worst of the pains away and she knew it would give her more energy for whatever her captor had in store for her next.

  She sat against the wall, the concrete so hard on her bottom that she felt as if her bones were protruding through her skin. Rose shut her eyes and willed sleep to find her, the cold seeping back through her body, chilling her right through as she imagined Peter’s smiling face, imagined how warm she’d feel in his arms, the strength of his embrace.

  ‘Get up!’

  Rose was jolted awake by the rough voice, followed by something loud banging. She jumped up, bleary-eyed, realising she’d been asleep but not having any idea how long she’d been out.

  ‘Get up!’

  There had to be others. If it was only her he wanted to rouse, then why wouldn’t he be standing in her cell?

  Her door opened and she waited for instructions. A man pointed, one she hadn’t seen before, and she obeyed, walking out and standing still. She wanted desperately to glance back, but he was holding a gun and the last thing she needed was to be smacked with the butt of it again and suffer more injuries.

  There were more footsteps and she wondered who was there, but still she didn’t look. Was she being taken out to be executed? She trembled at the thought even though she knew they wouldn’t kill her yet. They hadn’t tried hard enough to extract information from her; there was still so much they would do to her before they gave up on what she did or didn’t know. The Resistance had been too disruptive for them not to question her hard. Surely?