Crossword

by Alan Bricklin

  "I'm coming down."

  "Wait. The last two rungs collapsed. I'll help you, but first let me have a look-see."

  Eva, never one for patience, alternately paced back and forth, and knelt to see, unsuccessfully, what was in the storage cellar.

  Larry slowly turned in a circle, shining the light across the floor and along the walls, the latter devoid of any appurtenance, made of stone or some kind of cinder block, and enclosing the space in an unadorned field of gray. The space itself measured approximately ten meters by five, and two rows of stout piles ran the length of the enclosure, each about two meters apart and capped by equally strong looking beams that supported the weight of the overlying barn floor. At first, he was surprised by the large amount of items, apparently unmolested, that lay over much of the ground, especially with the shortages and increasing amount of pilferage that were occurring as the war worsened for the Germans; but he quickly realized that the hidden entrance had provided the requisite security. Hobbling around, he saw stockpiles of canned goods as well as mason jars of preserved food, thoughtfully laid away by some farsighted farmer, a person whose whereabouts he could only imagine. It was not unusual, Eva had said, for families in this area to have secondary barns at some distance from the farm house in which they lived and he supposed that was the case. They may have relocated or been killed or may at this very moment be on their way over to check on their provisions. It was the latter scenario that gnawed at Larry and kept him ill at ease, stimulating him to pick up the pace of his exploration. In a matter of minutes he had circumnavigated the entire area without seeing anything that looked like the crate that Schroeder had described to him, a circumstance he did not find unusual considering its importance. The General had told him that he received permission from the owner to store something of great value in his hidden cellar, had paid him in advance and offered his office for favors and protection if needed. The owner, of course, could have sold it or removed it for his own purposes, but it seemed unlikely that a farmer would risk the ire of a general and member of the Nazi party. What was more probable was that he had added his own levels of concealment, fearful to risk the loss of something so valuable to a general of the Wehrmacht.

  "Lorenz, what is happening? I am coming down." He heard her clambering on to the ladder and he limped over to where it met the floor, shining the flashlight to light her way down, ready to help her maneuver the final two steps.

  "OK, hold up now, these last two are broken." He put the flashlight down, shifted most of his weight to his good leg and held out his arm. "Reach down and put your arm on my shoulder, I'll ease you down." She did as she was told, then stepped off the rung and toppled into his arms, managing, with catlike dexterity, to make sure his right hand was firmly planted on her left breast as he lowered her to the ground. The erotic was second nature to her no matter the situation, and Larry, for his part, was sure she had deftly positioned her body where she wanted it. Despite his annoyance at the manipulation, however, he could not prevent the tingle in his loins as her nipple brushed across his fingers.

  "Thank you," she said and picked up the flashlight that lay at his feet. "Come, this is taking too much time." She walked off, Larry lurching behind, the beam of the light passing methodically from one item to the next.

  "Hold it!" Larry shouted. She had just illuminated a number of boxes piled in the far corner and was moving the beam along to the next few objects. "Shine the light on those cartons you just passed over. They're piled awfully high; higher than any of the others. Let's see what's under them." He worked his way over to the mound of boxes and began removing them, Eva laying the flashlight on top of a nearby pile and coming forward to help him. Removal of the first layer revealed similar cartons of canned goods, but like any excavation, the upper strata were generally not the most revealing. They had lowered the height of the stack about two thirds when Larry hefted a box out of the way and the surface of a tarpaulin came into view. "This could be something," he commented, purposely keeping the excitement he felt out of his voice.

  Eva picked up the flashlight and brought it over, focusing it on the new discovery, certainly nondescript, but unlike anything else they had found so far. Larry made hasty work of the remaining façade that shrouded their discovery, Eva shoving several cartons out of the way with her knees and feet, until the core was disclosed, masked only by the tarp. She hastily reached out and tore it away, revealing the holy grail of their journey, a gray wooden crate upon which was stenciled in black the Nazi swastika and "Norsk Wasserkraftwerk." "That's it," said Larry with finality, as he sat down on a nearby crate.

  "There is no time to rest. We must get this into the car and head for the border, to whatever location you were instructed to use to leave this sinking ship."

  He sighed, wanting only to rest his battered and bruised body for a few minutes, but he knew she was correct; every minute of delay increased the danger for them. Grudgingly, his body followed his commands and he stood up to survey the situation. The most difficult part would be getting the crate up out of the cellar and onto the barn floor, a proposition made especially difficult because of the weight of the lead shielding surrounding the plutonium, and having to negotiate a steeply pitched and broken ladder. "First, let's move this over to the base of the ladder. We should be able to slide it across the floor." Four stout rope handles meant for lifting protruded from the sides of the crate, two on each side. They cleared a path to the ladder and then took hold of the ropes at one end and began to pull, straining at first to overcome the inertia, but then sliding it with only moderate difficulty across the compact earthen floor. At the base of the ladder Larry looked up through the opening above and realized how they would lift their heavy burden to the main floor of the barn. "Stay down here while I go back up. There's a hoist near the top of the barn." He spoke as he moved, returning to the pile of boxes and cartons, and carrying one back to the base of the ladder where he set it down, a stepping stone to replace the bottom steps. "You see them in almost all barns so bales of hay could be hauled inside to cure. This one, though, is on a rail so it can travel directly over this cellar, and is rigged with a block and tackle, no doubt to lower heavy supplies and such or to lift them out. It looked intact." He stepped on the box, then onto the first intact rung of the ladder, turning back to Eva when he had taken hold of the rails. "If it is, we should be able to hoist this baby out of here." He disappeared through the entrance and Eva heard him moving around above.

  She sat down on the gray crate and tried to remain patient, a task that was doomed from the start. Her mind raced ahead to their next moves and the instructions that Gerhard had given her for the exit from Germany once the plutonium had been retrieved, a plan that, had Larry known it, would obviate any need to worry about whether he would die from radiation poisoning or from that cancer that ate away from within. She fiddled with the stout, corded handles attached to the crate, then realized what it was she was sitting on top of, and quickly stood up, backing away several paces.

  "Heads up down there." A heavy rope snaked its way down from above, the large wooden block and metal hook at the end bouncing from one rung of the ladder to the next until it coiled up on the ground in front of her. Larry followed it down the ladder, alighting next to her with a slight genuflection of his injured leg. "This should do it. You'll probably have to help me; the mechanical advantage isn't that great." He inspected the lift handles of the crate, planting his feet firmly and pulling on each of them in turn, assuring himself that they would take the weight of the load when they hoisted it to the barn's main level. Placing the block at the end of the crate, he placed the metal hook under one of the rope handles. "I'll go up again and start taking in the slack. Stay here and make sure this remains in position, and then give a holler when the crate starts to come off the ground. I'll tie it off and wait till you climb up to help and we can both lift it out of here." There was celerity in the way he spoke and the way he moved, an urgency also felt by Eva; the feeling that com
pels one to look over their shoulder, afraid that someone or something is closing in on them. Up the ladder he went once more, and in minutes she heard the squeak of the pulleys and watched as the rope slowly rose up like an inanimate cobra swaying to the silent tune of an invisible flute.

  "Halt!" One end of the container was suspended about a foot in the air, swinging slightly from side to side, as Eva hopped up on the box at the foot of the ladder and scampered up, anxious to reel in their catch and be out of the gloom that surrounded them. Larry stood near one of the supports, the rope belayed around it, the end held taught in his grip.

  "Take hold of the rope as I unwind it and brace yourself to take the weight." He slowly circled the support, working his hands forward as the rope came loose so Eva could take hold of the freed end. Together they pulled, leaning back and levering their weight to help. The noise of the crate bouncing against the ladder as it slowly rose from the depths of the cellar sounded above the squeak of the pulleys, and provided audible evidence that progress was being made as the rope traveled its path from block to block. They were both sweating by the time a dark shape began to emerge from the entrance, slowly rotating from side to side as it was delivered from its subterranean lair until it was held suspended over the opening, seemingly helpless, although in its gray depths, under the stenciled swastika, it contained the seeds of death for many thousands.

  "Now what?" she said.

  "Keep the rope taught and follow me." Larry backed up and started to circle the thick support that held up the overhead loft, playing out rope as needed until it was secured, and he could tie it off. Their hands burned from the effort, blisters starting to well up, muscles cramping and their chests heaving from the exertion. Pausing only to take a few deep breaths and stretch his shoulders, Larry hurried to the dangling crate, fearful that something would snap and it would crash to the floor far below. Taking hold of the rope handle on one side, he called to Eva to grab the other side, and together they tugged it away from the opening, the upper block and tackle sliding reluctantly on the overhead rail until it was safely over the floor of the barn. It took only a minute to release the tension on the rope and ease the crate to the ground.

  "Should we look inside?"

  "Absolutely. Wouldn't we look stupid if we went through everything we had to endure so far only to bring back a crate full of lead weight? The crowbar's just outside the door; I'll be right back." Eva started to sit on the crate but caught herself in time to straighten up before she made contact. She wasn't really sure exactly what the danger was, but did know that she had been told to keep her distance, especially when it had to be uncrated for the final portion of the escape from Germany. Standing at what she considered to be a respectful distance, hands on hips and impatiently tapping one foot, she waited while Larry retrieved the crowbar and pried off the top, the nails squealing as they were pulled free. Inside was a lead box, hand holds at each corner and a series of six latch bolts securing the lid to the lower part of the casing. He turned each of the latches and pulled off the top, letting it rest crosswise across the top of the wooden crate while he thumbed the flashlight on and inspected the contents. When the lid came away Eva averted her eyes and instinctively held up her hand to shield her face, as if she expected some bright death ray to emanate from within, but when the calm twilight ambience of the barn remained unperturbed, she felt somewhat embarrassed by her fear and took a few steps closer to look inside. Instincts have stood our species in good stead over the millennia, but only for those members that were smart enough to heed them. Eva didn't know that the aura of death was often invisible and its scent unnoticed.

  "Is it there?"

  "It looks like we hit pay dirt."

  Eva took another two steps closer and peered inside. What she saw was not very impressive. Amid a filling of sawdust and curled wood chips was a ball of silvery metal, about the size of a large grapefruit.

  "I'm going to repack this, then we can use the car to drag it to the door. That should be easier than trying to open the door wide enough to get the car all the way into the barn. Back the car into place while I get this ready."

  Eva turned and walked to the door, squinting and blinking several times as she emerged into the daylight, the sun low on the horizon but still shining brightly as she made her way to the car and opened the door. At first she thought her vision had been affected by the sudden radiance, for when she looked up she saw another vehicle like theirs, parked almost alongside. She blinked again before she noticed that one of Gerhard's aides stood by the car, and as her eyes adjusted to the change in light she also saw, with horror, that sitting in the back seat, hands bound behind her, was Maria. She continued staring for several more seconds, the rage welling up, her knuckles white as she tensely gripped the still open door. Grabbing her purse, she slammed the door and walked around to the other side to face the uncomfortable appearing sergeant. "What is the meaning of this?"

  "It was getting too dangerous to keep her there."

  Eva's voice rose as her anger grew. "You weren't supposed to keep her there, you fucking idiot, you were supposed to get rid of her. And in case you're too dumb to know what that means, it means you should have killed her and dumped her body."

  "But Fraulein, you don't realize what things are like in the city now. Everyone knows that the Americans or Russians will soon be at our doors. There may be reprisals."

  "Jesus, I don't believe this. She's just a fucking slut of a make pretend daughter of a dead general. No one cares anymore."

  "It isn't that simple. Everyone is looking out for themselves now, trying to have some kind of edge when the end comes. Perhaps if I were to have some money, real money, not German Marks, I would be able to make the proper arrangements." A question hung in the air, and they both knew it, although it was only Eva that knew the answer.

  "Oh, I understand now. It is only a matter of money, merely a financial matter. Well, that makes it easier to understand."

  "I'm glad you see it that way, Fraulein." A tenuous smile appeared on his face when she opened her purse.

  "What about her?" she said, motioning in Maria's direction. The sergeant turned his head, following her glance, and started to say something as he turned back, but didn't quite manage to get it out before the first of two bullets ripped through his upper abdomen and a third tore into his head, Eva delivering the coup d'etat as he slumped to the ground.

  * *

  Larry thought he heard voices coming from outside, but shrugged it off as Eva simply resuming the song she had been singing under her breath while she waited for him to open the crate, and so he continued his hurried preparations to get their package ready. However, the sound of three revolver shots was unmistakable. He ran to the door, snatching up the crowbar as he went. As he dashed to Eva's side he did a quick appraisal —— one man down, obviously dead, one woman tied in the back seat of a German staff car and Eva holding the revolver in her hand, the smell of gunpowder still in the air.

  "What the hell happened here and who is she?"

  "She was a former secretary to General Schroeder who somehow got wind of what was going on. His aide, that disgusting man at your feet, found her snooping around and beat her into telling him everything she knew about the operation, which was more than he knew. Uncle Heinrich was smart not to tell him all the details and the importance of what we are doing, because when he realized the significance, after he forced it out of that slut, he decided that he should blackmail us. I couldn't let him report us to the authorities; I had to shoot him."

  Larry scanned the distance, seeing no evidence that anyone had heard the shots, and turned back to Eva. "We'll need to get rid of the body, maybe just dump it somewhere along the way."

  "Bodies. This bitch can't live either." She took a step forward and opened the rear door, raising her gun as she moved, her thumb sliding up toward the hammer.

  "Whoa there," Larry exclaimed as he deftly and not particularly gently, snatched the revolver from her hand, "No more
shooting for the moment."

  "She is a slut, the worst kind, caring only for herself; a threat to your mission and to both of us. We have to eliminate her immediately," she shouted, venom in her voice and eyes.

  He put the gun in his pocket and reached into the rear of the car, removing the gag tied around Maria's face, keeping one hand free and one eye on Eva. As soon as the tie was loosened Maria began talking loudly, her fear adding a shrill timbre to her voice. "My name is Maria. I'm General Schroeder's ward and that woman hit me and she kissed me and she slapped me again and again and kicked me when I was on the floor. Oh, God, how could she do that? Why did she kiss me? She must be a crazy woman." She said more, but it was lost in the sobs that she could no longer hold at bay, her chest heaving and tears filling her eyes. Her words broke over Larry like a tidal wave, a physical force which caught him unaware.

  "The whore will say anything to save herself; let's shoot her before we have to listen to any more of these lies." Eva took a step forward but Larry held up one arm to restrain her, the other grasping the butt of the revolver in his pocket, Maria's words echoing in his mind, "My name is Maria, General Schroeder's ward."

  "Stand back." The revolver was out and at waist level, pointing at the gap between the two women, the indeterminate aim an indication of the uncertainty that had suddenly been intercalated. "You, in the car, get out." He grabbed her arm and tugged, helping her slide out of the car, her hands still bound behind her. "The two of you, into the barn; march!"