Chapter 6: Can a Traitor be Trusted?

Erika slipped into the narrow walkway to the servant’s quarters. The servants were housed in the lower rear portion of the home. She hoped that if they heard the click of her claws on the floor, they wouldn’t be inquisitive enough to stick their heads out to see what was coming down the hall.

When working for the Nazis, it paid to keep to oneself. If the master of the house wants something, he can ring the maid on duty.

She located the laundry room and shifted. She grabbed a simple dress that was shorter on her than it would be on its owner. It came only to midthigh, but she wasn’t going for a fashionable look. She snatched a pair of shoes from a nearby rack. She took the knife and headed back upstairs.

Even when she wasn’t in her wolf, she had always prided herself on an adept sense of hearing. The violence of the explosion in the truck must have had some bearing on that because she never heard him coming.

“Somehow I knew you wouldn’t give up so easily.”

She wheeled, swinging the knife.

“All I need do is shout and they’ll be up here in seconds,” he said. “You’ll be surrounded. There’ll be no way out.”

She took her mind to the place where her wolf resides, patiently waiting to be called on. All Volker need do is shout, but all she needed to do was beckon and the transformation would occur. They might make it time to thwart her escape, but they wouldn’t make it before she tore out Volker’s throat.

“You don’t need the knife.”

He took a step toward her.

“Really. What you’re after isn’t here,” he said. He held his hand out toward the door to his study. He reached for his pocket, and she lunged toward him, stopping only when he produced a key and not a weapon.

“I’ll show you.” He nodded toward the door, and she stepped aside. “They took everything this morning. I’m going back. I was only here to see the terrain from which we would launch when the rockets are complete. And I needed to experience the weather here.”

He smiled.

“Mostly,” he said, “I wanted to experience France. We’re very fortunate that the French went down without putting up much of a fight. Their country remains intact. I’d never been to France. I’m glad I got to see it, to drink its wine and ‘meet’ some of its ladies, because once the Allies do their thing, it’ll be decimated.”

He huffed, “Such is war.”

He unlocked the door. Before he could open it, she put the point of the knife into the middle of his back, perhaps enough to puncture the fabric of his jacket, but not enough to puncture him.

He opened the door and turned on the light. He’d been telling the truth. The room was completely empty. She pushed him into the room and closed the door behind them.

“Now what?” he asked. He smiled again, this time looking her up and down. “I really wish you had gone with one of the maid’s uniforms in the closet. You wear this nicely, but it’s a bit humble for a woman like you.”

“A woman like me? You know nothing about me.”

He chuckled. “I know that I find your backside more exciting than a rocket at take-off.”

When she didn’t react to the comment he said, “I’m honest, if anything.”

Not only did the Allies need to know about the logistics of the rocket program—where they would be fired from, their range, and the amount of damage they would be capable of—but it would be helpful to understand the technology so they could develop something of their own that could counter the Germans.

It was almost like he knew what she was thinking.

“The war is lost. I’m a man of science. I’m incapable of convincing myself otherwise.” His tone had lost its joviality. “When we launched an attack on the Soviet Union, we guaranteed ourselves defeat. Napoleon couldn’t do it and Hitler won’t either. We cannot fight a war on both fronts and win. It’s all just a matter of time now. Rockets or no rockets. I’d just as soon not be around to see it fall.”

“Are you are saying you’ll go with me? Willingly?”

“I’m saying that I’ll be your prisoner until we get to England—if we can get to England. Once there, I will share what I know with your scientists in exchange for immunity from any war crimes I would otherwise be convicted of.”

She considered this for a moment. It was crazy, but wasn’t the entire world crazy at this moment?

“If you double-cross me, I’ll kill you without a second thought.”

He looked at her as if he doubted that.

“Believe me, you know nothing about me.”

If they tried this, he might end up learning more than he would ever care to know.

“I trust there is a plan to get you out of the country?” he asked.

“There is,” she admitted. “But it’s too late for that now. We will have to improvise.”

“I’m not a strong swimmer.” He grinned. “And I hear the water of the Channel is rather cold.”

“How do we get out of this house without being seen?”

“I’ll explain, but first, we need to stop in my room. I have a pistol. It may come in handy.”

“For me,” she said.

“Of course.”

“And I’ll use it first on you if you get any ideas.”

“Of course,” he repeated.

*

A sheet was pulled back to reveal the mangled corpse of what had once been a man in the prime of his existence, a Gestapo agent with the power to turn another’s life into a living hell at the drop of a hat. The irony was that something . . . or maybe someone, had turned the tables on him.

“As you can see, the bite marks are evident just as I told you on the phone,” said the officer in charge of the detachment that found this man and his partner. “We found them outside of a church.”

“Have you been able to discern why they were there?” Schmidt asked.

“We believe they had learned of a spy ring that had some connection to that area. Apparently, they had an old man with them, a member of the French Resistance and a spy. We didn’t find any trace of him.”

Schmidt pulled back the sheet on the other man and found him in even worse shape than his cohort. This man’s femur, the largest bone in the human body, had been snapped cleanly in half. All that was keeping lower half of the leg from dropping off was tendons and flesh.

“Do you think that whatever did this dragged the old man into the woods? We didn’t see a blood trail.”

Schmidt ignored the question. “Are your troops looking for this old man?”

“What do you think did this, a bear? Maybe a . . . a wolf?”

“Answer my question—are you looking for this old man?”

“The Gestapo came in. They said they were taking over and I believe they are searching for him. We are a heavy infantry battalion. We leave the spy business to the professionals.”

“Go find the Gestapo agent in charge. Get a description of this old man. Go door-to-door if you have to. I want him found.”

Schmidt threw the sheet over the dead man.

“And send the Gestapo agent in charge to me. I wish to speak with him. I saw a tavern on the way in. That’s where I’ll be.”

The other man clicked his heels and saluted. Schmidt sighed and reluctantly followed suit. If the army spent a little less time saluting and a little more time cracking heads, the Allies would lose their will to wage war.