“Do I know him?” Bernard shot Ken a quick glance. “If it weren’t for me, Drake wouldn’t know how to make it down the street in Paris.”
Ken smirked. “Bernard’s one of the first Maquisards I ever met. He thinks because he pulled me from a burning car, that I need to be looked out for.”
Bernard gestured toward the backseat. “Lucky for you, I saw those spectacles in the back, Noelle. I don’t meddle with wizards’ possessions and needed to bring them to you.”
“Thank you, Bernard.” I faced Ken. “Now, are you going to tell me about the assistant?”
“I found him drowned in the Seine River.”
And I thought I was having a frustrating day. “So how did you end up decoding the message?”
“I went to another codemaster—Mathieu Perrine.”
I could just imagine what a meeting between them would look like. “You’ve met Mathieu?”
“Yeah, and it looks like you did too. It didn’t take long to figure out you had passed through, so I headed out this way, and that’s when I ran into Bernard. We came out here when he said he needed to get your emerald spectacles back to you. When I saw you in the hospice with that warlock, I knew I had to get you out of there quick.”
“Those spectacles were real emerald?” Bernard eyed us with interest.
“Don’t get any ideas, old man. Remember, you don’t mess with wizards’ possessions?” Ken placed his arm around me and I finally began to relax.
“I’m glad you were there,” I told him with a serious look in my eye, “but next time...you might not want to rush into the middle of something like that.” Marc would’ve torn through Ken just like he did Karl Manfried.
Ken threw me an incredulous glance. “What are you talking about? You needed help. You couldn’t even walk on your own.”
“Just be careful,” I said. Sometimes I wished he’d take a step back and analyze what was going on in a situation rather than rushing into something because he felt it was the right thing to do.
“It’s good to have you back, Drake—it’ll be like old times. And I’m glad we found you, Noelle.”
“I’m glad you’re both here.” I reached for Ken’s hand and held it tightly, secretly wishing that “here” was anywhere other than Nazi-occupied Paris. I would’ve felt like an idiot if I had confronted Ken or accused him of anything.
“I’m glad you’re alive.” He squeezed my hand in return.
“Where are we going?” I leaned into him.
“A Maquisard safe house.” Bernard slowed the car. “Tonight, we’re going to hit the factory.”
“I’m coming too. It’s the only way I’ll find the laboratory I’m looking for.”
“You need rest first.” Ken frowned at me.
Bernard pulled up to a large house just southwest of the factory. It had no gate, and looked like it might have once been a beautiful country house. As soon as we stepped out of the car, a Maquisard woman greeted us. A young man who didn’t even look old enough to drive came out and took Bernard’s keys.
The two exchanged a few words and Bernard patted the young man on his back. “Take care of it, will you?” After he watched the young man drive off, he turned to face me. “Well, whether you like it or not, you’re stuck with me.”
11
I awoke with a start. My rest was more disturbed than anything else, but at least I had slept. Darkness permeated the small bedroom and I sat up and reached for the lamp on the nightstand next to the bed. Though my body ached from weariness, all I could think about was the Vélizy factory going down in flames.
As Ken lay asleep next to me, it made me reflect on the question of how many more years, or even weeks I could last? Stella was my age and her remains lay scattered at the gates of Dachau. She could have lived a normal life, found a new husband and started a family. And here I was, Noelle, Emelie...and whoever else I’ve pretended to be; I’ve barely escaped with my own life, and tonight I would be putting it at risk again by going to the factory.
“Ken...are you awake?”
“Yes.”
After a few long seconds, I prodded him with my foot. “Wake up.”
“Do you need anything?” He turned to face me.
“I was thinking about some things.”
“What is it?”
“Do you ever plan to quit spying?”
“When the war’s over with, yes.” He sat up.
I snorted. “And when do you think that’s going to be?”
“Listen, a couple of sources told me that the U.S. is likely to join the Allies by the end of the year. The Navy’s already getting into skirmishes with the Japanese, so this is all going to be over soon.”
I hoped his sources were right. “Do you enjoy this life?”
“If I weren’t doing this, I wouldn’t have met you.”
A flicker of a smile crossed my lips. “I’m tired.”
“We all get tired, but that’s a good thing.”
“Why?”
“It means you’re still human. If you could go through all this without feeling, thinking, or questioning, then what the hell are you?”
“Do you feel like you’re missing out on life? Even the simple things? I think the last film I saw was Wizard of Oz. I mean, when’s the last time you’ve been to a cinema? And I used to read all the time when I was at Radcliffe—”
“Yeah, I know...I stole a copy of your file, remember?”
“Of course.” I also stole a copy of his within three days.
His grin faded and he stared at me. “Last year, after the Cairo job, the Boss gave me another assignment. I went to Amsterdam and delivered a parcel schedule to the Resistance leaders. They needed to know where to pick up the food we were dropping throughout the country. They needed to feed themselves because the Nazis were taking everything. People were eating wild roots and grass, cats, dogs...anything they could get their hands on.”
“You never told me about that.” I sat up and wrapped my arms around him. Hearing about the Cairo job bothered me, but I didn’t have it in me to ask him about it just yet.
His eyes grew cold. “I delivered the parcel schedule, and then I was supposed to report back to the Boss. Instead, I went with the resistance fighters on a couple of sabotage missions. When it was over, I felt invulnerable, like I really did something. But then a week later, on a car ride across the border, I noticed a whole line of those same men I fought with, tied to fence posts, with their bellies slit open. The Nazis wrote ‘Terrorist’ across their chests in their own blood.”
“I’m so sorry.” I couldn’t find any other words of consolation, and just held him tighter.
“After seeing that, I felt like it would’ve been better if I had never come at all. I started questioning everything, and I felt...” he sighed. “But when I was back in the States, OSS forwarded me some letters addressed to my codename. They were from friends and family of the men who were killed. It took me a few weeks to gain the courage to open the damn things and read them.”
“And...?” I planted a kiss behind his ear.
“The letters said they wanted to thank me. Could you believe that? They even said they had the strength to survive and move forward. I thought...I thought their letters would say that they hated me.”
I kissed him again. “And when you saw how they really felt...you asked yourself why you shouldn’t have the strength to continue as well?”
He nodded. “I know what it means to be tired, and there’s nothing wrong with that.”
With a heavy heart, I considered his words and played out his story in my mind. Sometimes I wanted to quit because it all felt like a burden that was just too heavy to bear. I admired Stella, who refused to let her husband die in vain. Renée—she possessed that quiet strength that had eluded so many.
Deep down, I knew that the one thing I truly hated was losing people, because I lost one of the most important people in my life when I was just a child. Could I be as brave as those two women? My mother once t
old me, “Know what you can do, and what you can’t...and thank God if you have the sense to know the difference.” Somehow, I wanted to survive all this, and not just as an empty shell living to see another day. If there was one thing I had learned, it’s that when you’ve been involved in this for too long, you ended up broken—I would rather die than see that day...or better yet, I would want to retire and have a few neat stories to tell my grandchildren one day.
I heard a knock on the door. “Come in.”
“All rested up, I hope?” Bernard entered the room holding a hot mug of tea, looking as if he managed to curl up somewhere and sleep as well.
“Yes...we need to show Noelle a map of the factory.” Ken went over to the nightstand and pulled out the drawer. Reaching into the vacant spot, he withdrew a sheet of paper. He unfolded it and handed it to me, gesturing for me to examine it.
I studied the map and committed it to memory. There were two security checkpoints that we would have to bypass before reaching the factory building itself. The first checkpoint was a barricade placed at the road which broke off from the main road and led to the factory grounds. The second checkpoint stood at the gates. The steel gates enclosed the factory building, which had two westside entrances and one eastside emergency exit. The former enamel factory stood three stories high and had a basement area.
“Our plan is to go in and have you and Drake neutralize the weapons. The Maquisards will be our backup if anything goes wrong.” Bernard finished his tea and gestured toward the Maquisard woman, who came in with a box full of items. She sat it next to him and left.
“What about the armored cars and the tank?” I hadn’t forgotten about them.
“They’re not going to risk firing on the factory.” Bernard rummaged through the box. “And I have a few men who are going to be dealing with them, if needed. Do you still have that radio transmission jammer I gave you?”
“Yes.” I also retrieved and handed him my emerald spectacles. “They could probably use these as well. Whoever wears these can see in the dark.”
“Thank you.” He placed them into his pocket and reached deep into the box. He withdrew a black case. He opened it and presented the knife inside. I could taste the light metallic essence of the silver within the weapon and delighted in it, although I still preferred gold. I reconciled myself to the fact that untainted silver would be an immense improvement from steel.
Ken grabbed a uniform that Bernard handed him from the box. “All we have to do is get in, take care of those chemical weapons, and get out. There’s no time for fooling around.”
“We’re going in as SS officers?” I caught a wad of black garb that Bernard tossed toward me.
“I have identification for all of us.” Bernard gestured for me to start getting dressed. “God help me, this had better work since we can only use these credentials once. I’m going in as Fritz Aldarich, and you’re going to be our nurse.”
“We should also keep our eyes open for anything that can lead us to their research laboratories in the region.” I examined the nurse’s uniform, which came with a black dress, white-collared shirt, a matching cape, and headdress.
Bernard threw on his cap and coat. “We deciphered a message that said Fritz Aldarich is inspecting the factory tonight. As long as we neutralize those weapons before he comes, we’ll be all right. I’ll see what I can do about the laboratories.”
Ken finished dressing and kept fiddling with his armband as if it itched. Bernard grabbed a suitcase secretly laden with weapons and tools. Once I finished putting on my nurse’s uniform, we all gazed at each other. If we wanted another day of “cheating death,” as Lyder would've put it, we could not afford to make a single mistake.
We pulled up to the first checkpoint, where the diverging road leading to the factory was barricaded. Several German soldiers and trekkers stood before us. The Maquisards lurked further down the main road, just far enough to not be detected, but close enough to rush in if we needed them. We followed one of the soldier’s instructions and turned off our headlights, waiting for him and a second soldier to approach.
“Identification, please.” He collected our credentials and inspected them. His partner shined his flashlight on us and examined us with an expressionless face. I kept mine as calm as possible, knowing that many Maquisards were imprisoned or tortured in the process of stealing and counterfeiting papers and identities for missions such as this.
The soldier with our credentials took the papers back to his booth to examine them in detail, and two other soldiers came forward with their flashlights and weapons ready. Just ahead, an armored car faced us, and a second one patrolled the vicinity. The tank roamed on the other side of the factory grounds.
He came back and handed us our papers. “You’re early—we were expecting you two hours from now.”
“Look,” Bernard glared from his passenger side seat, “if it were up to me, I wouldn’t have come at all to this backward town. However, since we come on the express orders of the Führer, I want to quickly get this done.”
“You’re aware of standard safety procedure?” The soldier directed his question toward Ken, who was in the driver seat. Apparently he wasn’t in the mood to speak with a foul Ortsgruppenleiter.
“Of course,” Ken answered in German, following Bernard’s lead. “The weapons are ‘as is’?”
“You’ll have to ask Lieutenant Korbin...he’s just ahead.” He saluted us and returned to his booth, signaling toward the other men to set the barricade aside and for the armored car to let us drive past.
We drove down the narrow road and approached the second checkpoint at the factory gates. This time we were instructed to park our car off to the side of the road and present ourselves at the gate. Ken and Bernard flanked me as we walked toward Lieutenant Korbin and his guards. He saluted us, and we saluted him in return.
“Good evening, Ortsgruppenleiter Adalrich. I’ll be your escort throughout the factory and can answer any questions you may have.”
“Very good,” Bernard handed him our papers. “You may call me Fritz. As you can see, I brought along my assistant, Josef, and our nurse Hilda.”
Korbin’s gaze went between the papers and our faces. “May I ask why you need the nurse?” He handed us our papers.
“It seems you failed to examine all my information.” I opened my bag and displayed its contents. “I’ve also been trained in advanced chemical science, and will be collecting samples of the chemical agent. As volatile as it is, we still have to ensure its integrity.”
He viewed the chemistry kit with interest. “Is...it true, those chemicals were made by a wizard?”
“It seems you need to be sent out into the fray more often.” Ken peered into Korbin’s eyes. “I’ve seen it melt men’s flesh and expose bare bone. I’ve heard soldiers cry for mercy with their last breath while the spell consumed them. I don’t think the devil himself could have made anything more virulent.”
Korbin’s face blanched and he quickly motioned for us to follow him through the gate entrance. “How much more do you expect the generals will move? We’ve already used half.”
“If we can weaken the Allies this easily in three months,” I answered. “I predict we won’t need much to finish the task.”
Two guards stood at the building’s double doors just ahead. Korbin hailed them as they saluted us, and we passed through the doorway unmolested, gazing at the stars above as we stood in the open courtyard of the factory. From where I stood, I remembered that to my right were the two westside exits, and to my left I’d find the emergency exit if I needed to use it. Dozens of soldiers stood sentinel on the balconies of the second and third stories, either facing the courtyard or pacing up and down.
Bernard pulled out a notebook and pen, trying to ignore the intimidating sight. “Lead us to the weapons, Korbin.”
Korbin took us into a small room on the first floor that allowed access to the basement level. I could sense a ward on the reinforced door. Korbin unlocked
the door and ushered us in. When the lights flickered on, we saw that the basement was bigger than we had thought, and the stockpile of chemical weapons stood in the middle of the room, about two hundred “cubes” of material stacked high, forming a pyramid.
The fact that they packaged it this way made me certain that the chemical agent was in powder form. I needed to test its physical and magical composition, and if I could, swipe a sample. However it would all mean nothing if I couldn’t neutralize it.
“You’ll have to be careful with it,” Korbin told me as he went over to a locker and took out a pair of warded gloves.
I took out my own pair of gloves. “Just leave me to my work.”
Bernard pointed toward some notes posted on the locker. “You see those procedural rules? I think they ought to be posted right outside at the door, not on the storage locker.”
Korbin walked him over toward the notes. “Since whoever would come to test or transfer the chemicals would have to come to the locker first, I thought this would be the proper place.”
Bernard trailed off, going down a list of changes he wanted implemented, and grabbed the notes off the locker and went through them. He was probably looking for that research laboratory I needed.
As Ken stood as lookout near the door, I set up my warded chemistry set on a table in the corner and took out my silver knife. I carved a fortified symbol of protection around the seat I’d be sitting in—a plaited symbol that looked like a three-leaf clover.
I put on my gloves and went over to the pyramid to grab one of the cubes from the top. All of the packaging was secured with a ward, but the chemical itself was another matter. I brought it back over to the table and sat within my protective symbol. I snipped open the plastic bag and frowned at the stench already assaulting my nose, but it didn’t stop there—somehow the black grainy powder stirred on its own, and spread as if a wind had blown it. I used one of the beakers from the chemistry set to trap it.
I could already feel the powder graze against the beaker and try to rise into the air. It made me wonder if their wards were strong enough to completely contain this. I fed more energy into my own protective symbol, and the chemical settled back down. It almost felt alive; it just moved and swirled on its own. I could even feel it push against my protective magic and pulsate like a beating heart. I would seriously have a problem if this stuff broke through and ate my face off.
The Gray Tower Trilogy: Books 1-3 Page 11