by Renee Ryan
“I… Thank you. And I’ll do the same for you.” She came to him again, wrapped her arms around his waist. “It’s not our time.”
Cloaked in the shadows again, he pressed his lips against her temple. “There will be a day when this war is over. And then—”
“It will be our time to be together.”
“Yes.” He held her for a moment longer, just held her as a twisted, frightening mixture of hope and loss tangled together in his heart.
He didn’t want to leave her.
He didn’t have the right to take her with him. Like she said, this wasn’t about them.
God had given each of them a calling for their lives, at a time that required them both to think beyond themselves. They’d been blessed to have these three days.
Shifting her weight, she leaned back to look into his eyes again. “You should probably take your leave at this point.”
Yes, he would go. But not before he made it perfectly clear that he was her future. And she was his. He lowered his head and kissed her fiercely on the mouth. Gathering control, he set her at arm’s length, but kept his hands on her waist. “This isn’t the end for us. I won’t say goodbye.”
“Neither will I.” She touched his lips and then kissed him where her fingertip had been. She kissed him again, tenderly, softly, so softly he trembled.
Silent promises passed between them. Jack believed the Lord would bring him back to her. Someday. The thought gave him the necessary strength to turn and leave her behind.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Jack made it halfway through the ballroom before he was stopped by a soft, feminine voice coming from behind him. “Herr Reiter, I would like a word with you before you leave.”
He turned, very slowly, and came face-to-face with Elena Kerensky. He could say many things to this woman, demand even more; instead he kept silent and studied her in candid appraisal.
Tonight she wore her hair pinned in some fancy style of the day. She was dressed in a sparkling silver dress adorned with jewels the color of her eyes. All that was missing to complete the picture of a royal princess was the tiara.
But as regal as the woman looked on the surface, her wide blue eyes blinked up at him in… Jack couldn’t put a word to the expression. Fear, perhaps? No, something far more complicated than that.
“I am at your disposal, Princess.” He gave her a short bow. “What is it you wish to discuss?”
“Not here,” she said. “Follow me.”
“Of course.”
As she led him out of the ballroom, Jack looked around him. He wasn’t usually sentimental, or poetic, but Elena Kerensky had created an old-world charm that caught his imagination. It was as though he’d been transported back in time.
The air shimmered with the golden light of hundreds of candlesticks. Small tables had been arranged in sets of three, the groupings then separated by an assortment of ornamental trees. Flowers of various colors had been strategically placed throughout the room. While a full orchestra played classical music, mostly Austrian waltzes.
The irony was not lost on him. He found himself smiling cynically as she led him to a small alcove just off the front entrance. The spot was not entirely private, but private enough, as long as they kept their voices down.
For a moment she simply gazed into his eyes. He let her.
“You and I, we are alike, I think,” she said at last.
Now that was an interesting comment, one that sent the hairs on the back of his neck bristling. “How so?”
“We do what must be done in these difficult times.” Her words were strong enough, but her tone lacked edge. “We align ourselves with whom we must.”
In that moment, Jack realized Elena Kerensky was not the hard woman he’d once thought. She was simply trying to protect her daughter. His respect for her traveled up a few notches.
“The world is not always as black and white as some would have us believe,” he said in response.
“No.” She nodded. “It would seem we are of a similar mind.”
“Not so much of a shock when one considers our common interest in Katarina.”
“No. Not a shock at all.” Elena smiled, just a little. A very little. “You realize, of course, I am not completely blind in my daughter’s feelings for you.”
His protective instinct reared, but he shoved it behind an easy smile. “Katarina is a brave woman. I admire her greatly.”
“Admire her?” Parental outrage hummed between them. “That is all you feel for Katarina, mere admiration?”
“No. That is not all. Far from it.” He did not elaborate, but he allowed his feelings to show in his eyes. He would not lie about something so important as his love for Katarina. It was the one truth he could have whether he was Jack Anderson or Friedrich Reiter.
“You are a very careful man, Herr Reiter.” She nodded in approval. “It is a fine quality to have in these troubling times.”
“It has served me well.”
“I find it necessary to ask you to be a little less careful.”
He waited for the rest.
“Are your feelings strong enough for my daughter to encourage you to do whatever it takes to ensure her safety?”
The desperation in her eyes was at odds with her smooth tone. Clearly, Elena Kerensky was trying to say something more here, something important, but Jack didn’t have the time or the inclination to sort through the subtext of her words. “Princess Elena, I am not your enemy. Please, say what you need to say.”
She gave him one small nod. “I could not help but notice that you arrived tonight with the Reichsführer. Am I to assume you are an officer in the SS, in spite of your lack of uniform?”
Jack inclined his head, wondering why Schmidt had not shared that information with her himself. “You would be correct in your assumption.”
“I see.” Obvious relief filled her gaze. Jack had not expected that. The woman was proving a surprise, much like her daughter. They were an amazing pair.
“Then perhaps…” Elena trailed off in order to take a deep breath. “Perhaps you will take the final step to ensure Katarina’s safety?”
Did she know of her daughter’s work with the British? Or was she simply taking an obvious step by aligning her daughter’s future with that of an SS officer?
Every cell in his body stood at attention. “What did you have in mind?” Although he sensed her response before she spoke again.
“Will you marry her, Herr Reiter?”
And there it was. The solution to all their problems. So simple. So obvious. Of course it would come from Elena, a woman securing her own future in the same way she’d just suggested for her daughter.
Jack allowed the idea to settle in his mind. Is this it, Lord? Is this the answer I’ve been praying for?
If Katarina would not leave Germany, marriage to a high-ranking Nazi—say, a major in the SS—would give her a level of protection she would not have other wise.
With Jack’s direct ties to Heinrich Himmler, no one would look into her background, or her mother’s. Even if they tried they would never get past Jack, or rather, they would never get past SS-Sturmbannführer Friedrich Wilhelm Reiter.
“Yes, Princess Elena, when I return to Hamburg I will do everything in my power to marry your daughter.”
It was the easiest promise he’d ever made. Unfortunately, he had no idea when he would be able to follow through.
23 November 1939, 0830 hours, The English Channel, three miles off the coast of Harwich
The wind blew in from the north, howling viciously and punching Jack in the face. Amid the eight-foot swells and overcast sky, the low, steady thunder of HMS Basset’s engine was underscored by the angry pounding of water against the hull.
Facing into the wind, Jack took a deep breath. The heavy scent of diesel fuel overwhelmed the salty smell of the sea air and did nothing to settle his mind.
Where was the relief? Where was the pleasure over a successful mission completed?
> Back in Hamburg with Katarina Kerensky, that’s where.
He wanted to return to her. He wanted to be with her, always. But he had to be patient. He had to trust the Lord would, indeed, guide Jack back to her.
Unfortunately, there were no guarantees in war.
Lord, he prayed, protect Katarina in my absence. We’ve both come a long way in our faith, but we still have far to go. Soften each of our hearts to You so we may know Your love, regardless of these dark times in which we live. Give us strength to make the sacrifices we must make for You and Your people. Thy will be done.
“We’re nearly there, Lieutenant.”
Jack whipped around. He’d been so caught up in praying he hadn’t heard the captain come up behind him. Unforgivable. No matter how deep his personal anguish, he should have been more alert. A mistake like that in enemy territory could get him killed.
“Would you care to join me at the helm for the completion of our journey?”
Welcoming the distraction, he nodded. “Of course.”
Twenty minutes later, Jack jumped out of the trawler and onto the military dock near Harwich, only to find the head of MI6, Stewart Menzies himself, waiting for him on the quay.
Struck by the anxious look on the director’s face, Jack’s thoughts leaped immediately to Katarina and he closed the distance between them in a split second. “Did something go wrong after I left Germany?”
“I’ll explain in the car,” Menzies said, turning away before Jack could question him further.
For the first time in years, Jack felt real terror.
And there was nothing he could do to alleviate his fears but wait for the British spymaster to give him more information.
Jack had never felt so powerless. But as Menzies took his time settling into the back of the Bentley, Jack’s temper began to burn away his panic. He buried the impulse to strangle the information out of the other man and waited for the Brit to make the next move.
Once the car was in motion, Menzies finally acknowledged him. “You have the photographs with you?”
Straight and to the point. In spite of his frustration, Jack appreciated the frank approach. “Yes. I was also able to obtain the exact coordinates of the minefield that will be laid in the next few days along the Thames Estuary.”
“Then the mission was a success.”
There was something in Menzies’s eyes that put Jack instantly on alert. Looking out the window, he noted that they were traveling directly parallel to the coast, rather than west toward London. “Where are you taking me?”
Menzies leaned back in his seat and gave a careless shrug. “Let’s just say I have a surprise for you.”
Jack’s eyes cut from Menzies to the passing scenery then back to Menzies again. “I beg your pardon, sir, but I’ve had enough surprises in the past three days to last a lifetime.”
“Rest easy, Lieutenant. We are headed to Shoeburyness, where one of the magnetic mines was found imbedded in the mud along the shore.”
Jack relaxed his shoulders. “How much of the device is left?”
“It’s completely intact.”
A wave of disbelief crested, but then gave way to anticipation. What were the odds of finding a magnetic mine in full working condition? A thousand to one? A million to one?
It was incredible.
No. It was a miracle. God had provided the British with a miracle.
Thank You, Lord.
“We have your entire team already in place,” Menzies continued. “Lieutenant Commander Ouvry of the Royal Navy has volunteered to diffuse the bomb for us. And if he fails—”
“I’ll step in.”
Menzies gave him a sly smile. “I thought you might say that. But for Ouvry’s sake, let us hope it doesn’t come to that.”
Jack sent up a prayer for Ouvry’s protection, then fell into silence. The mission had come full circle. Just four days ago Jack had stood on the shores of the Isle of Wight surveying the remains of an American cargo ship, one of over a hundred civilian vessels blown up in the last three months.
Now all Jack had to do to prevent further losses was to finalize his countermeasures. And once he did, the Kriegsmarine’s deadly secret weapon would be rendered useless.
God’s will be done!
15 December 1939, war room, Whitehall, London
1400 hours
“I understand your countermeasures are operational.”
“Yes, sir.” Jack studied the man on the other side of the desk. Although he’d met with him on several “unofficial” occasions through the years, this was Jack’s first official meeting with Winston Churchill.
Churchill lit his cigar then took several short puffs. The resolute expression on his face fit his craggy features to perfection. “Let us pray this will buy us the time we need to stop Hitler’s attempt to cut off our islands from the rest of the world.”
“If I can speak frankly, sir, Hitler has underestimated the British.”
“True enough.” Churchill’s expression turned intense as he opened the file on his desk. “I see you gave us a detailed and accurate report of the minefield laid by U-116 last month.”
Jack nodded. Hermann Schmidt’s efforts had been wasted. Jack couldn’t think of a more fitting end to the magnetic mine mission.
“And because of that information,” Churchill continued as he tapped the top page of the report, “we have successfully rerouted dozens of supply ships in the last two weeks.”
“I didn’t do it alone,” Jack quickly pointed out. “Without Katarina Kerensky’s help, the mission would have failed.”
“I see she made quite an impression on you.”
“Yes.” And he desperately wanted to return to her. Three weeks had passed since he’d seen her last. It felt like a lifetime.
Closing the file, Churchill leaned back in his chair. “I have been informed that your next mission is set.”
“I leave for Berlin in two days.” And as soon as humanly possible he would find Katarina.
Churchill rose. “Be very sure this is what you want to do, Lieutenant.” He came around the desk and settled his hand on Jack’s shoulder. “Once you’re inside the SD, you will be on your own. Jack Anderson will cease to exist.”
Jack kept his gaze steady. “I understand.” It was the price he’d expected to pay the day he’d become Friedrich Reiter. This was the mission MI6 had trained him for these last two years. There was no turning back now.
“Send what information you can, but your main objective will be to sabotage from within.”
Jack nodded. It was a dangerous mission, one that could end in his death.
Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you.
He would not go into Germany alone.
Churchill spoke his thoughts aloud. “Well, then, Lieutenant, may God go with you.”
Jack rose and gladly shook hands with a man some called a warmonger but who Jack considered one of the bravest, most steadfast men he had ever met. “I pray we see one another on the other side of this war.”
“For both our sakes, I hope it is soon, Lieutenant.” Churchill’s eyes darkened with worry. “I hope it is very soon.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
16 February 1940, Berlin Theater, Berlin, Germany
For Katia, every night was the same. Perform her role. Take her bows. Greet her fans backstage.
Night after night, the audience came to watch her become a tragic heroine of a masterfully written play. Night after night, she gave them what they wanted.
While taking her bows, she squinted past the floodlights into the audience, looking for the one man she couldn’t seem to forget.
She feared he wouldn’t be there. But no matter how many days passed, no matter what city she was in, Katia never gave up hope of seeing Friedrich Reiter again.
He was in her mind always, even as she continued her clandestine work for the British. Over the past months, she’d completed four more missions for MI6. She had worked alone each time. Tha
nks to her part in the success of the magnetic mines mission, the British trusted her again. And thanks to Friedrich’s efforts at her mother’s ball in November, Admiral Doenitz had given Katia no more troubles.
Small compensation for a broken heart.
At least her relationship with her mother was healed. Although against the union from the start, Katia had stood as Elena’s witness at her wedding to Hermann Schmidt. That day, Katia’s heart had broken a little more. She only prayed marriage to Hermann would be enough to protect Elena from the death camps.
No. She would not give in to depressing thoughts now. Elena had made her choices and Katia had made hers. Their individual futures were in God’s hands now, the safest place to be in these dark times.
If only Katia could meet Friedrich again and see for herself that he was safe. Oh, how she missed him, how she feared for him. How she wished there was no war separating them.
Lord, is he safe? Please, I pray You keep him safe throughout the duration of the war and beyond.
As she joined the rest of the cast backstage, Katia skimmed her gaze across the milling crowd. Elegant women wearing their jewels and furs clung to men dressed in tuxedos and various military uniforms. Luftwaffe. Waffen. Gestapo.
SS.
Tonight, Heinrich Himmler himself was among the crowd. He was wearing the black uniform of the Gestapo. Small of stature, unassuming, it was hard to believe he was the architect of Germany’s greatest horrors.
Out of habit, she tried to determine the identity of the other Gestapo officer with Himmler, but the man had his back to her. The hard jolt to her heart made her breath catch in her throat. Could it be him?
She tried to think logically, but the pounding in her head made it difficult. There was something painfully familiar about the tall, broad-shouldered officer. And yet, she couldn’t allow herself to hope. She’d been through this routine countless times in the last three months.