Dangerous Allies (7 page)

Playing it for all it was worth, Reiter continued looking at her in the way a man looked at the woman he loved.

The swift ache of loneliness came fast and hard. Reality came faster.

This was a ruse, she reminded herself.

They were spies. On a mission. Nothing more.

Get it straight, Katia.

“Lead the way, Herr Reiter,” she said in a perfectly steady voice.

“By all means.”

They walked arm in arm for three full blocks, the perfect picture of romantic bliss, but as they rounded the last corner, Reiter slowed his steps. And then…

The unmistakable grind of a hammer sliding into place rang in her ears. “
Halt!
Or I’ll shoot.”

J
ack froze.

Right here, right now, what he did next would determine all of their fates. His initial instinct was to turn and fight. But he made himself slow down, think offensively, and consider other options first.

Anticipation shimmered along his skin, tightening his muscles, making him more aware, more alert. And ready to strike. A quick hit to the three vital points—throat, nose, temple—was all it would take.

It would be so easy to succumb to impulse. Friedrich Reiter would have no qualms over killing a guard.

Jack Anderson wouldn’t either, if it meant protecting the woman beside him. But Jack also knew better than to make such a rash mistake.

The Germans were meticulous record keepers. Once the guard was found, a report would be made. The grounds would be searched. And before long, Kerensky’s little uninvited jaunt into Doenitz’s room would be discovered.

The mission would be over before it had really begun.

The rhythmic sounds of Kerensky’s breathing re minded him of her presence. This was why he preferred to work alone. What if she was captured and interrogated tonight, what if she got hurt in an escape attempt, what if…

No.
Think in terms of absolutes,
he told himself,
not ifs.

He would do this right. With cold, hard pragmatism.

No emotion. Nothing personal.

And, lo, I am with you always…

Jack nearly flinched at the unexpected thought. Where had it come from? An old Scripture memorized from youth, or a reminder straight from God?

Jack couldn’t be certain. So he focused on the only reliable sources he had at his disposal. His brain. And his skills.

Without moving, he took note of the line of fog snaking along the waters of the distant harbor. The vapor would eventually shroud the entire town in its milky-white mist. Perfect cover for escape.

“Get your hands in the air.” The order was spat in clipped, rapid-fire German. “Now.”

In one part of his mind, Jack counted off seconds. The rest of him searched for a solution that would keep all three of them alive. Measuring, gauging, he dropped a quick glance on to Kerensky. She met his gaze with hard steel in her eyes.

Good. She wouldn’t buckle.

“Do it, or I’ll shoot,” came the order. The voice was angry and a little desperate now. Jack knew from personal experience that desperate was the same as reckless.

Just what they needed—a desperate, reckless Nazi with a loaded rifle pointed at their backs.

After giving Kerensky’s shoulder a brief squeeze, Jack lifted his hands in the air above his head. She took a hard breath and did the same. By his calculation, less than fifteen seconds had passed since the guard’s initial command to halt.

“Turn around,” came the next order. “Slowly.”

Jack slid another glance at Kerensky. Her eyes were narrowed into determined, pale green slits surrounded by spiky dark lashes.

“We do this together,” he whispered.

She nodded. “Together.”

As a unit, they pivoted to face the enemy. For a split second, time came to a standstill and the world waited for one of them to make the next move.

Jack took a quick accounting of the guard. Dressed in a
Kriegsmarine
uniform, the rank of midshipman was evident by the single bar on his shoulder strap. The sailor was shorter than Jack, slighter and much, much younger. Nothing more than a boy, really.

A boy who carried a 98 Mauser infantry rifle, with its five-shot clip, and simple, strong action that could pierce a man’s—or woman’s—heart at this close range with little to no mess.

Not the best of situations.

But not disastrous, either. As long as Jack kept his head thinking and his emotions shut down.

“State your name and your business.” The voice was still strong, firm even, but the sailor’s eyes reflected hesitancy, as though he sensed Jack’s superior rank in spite of the civilian clothing.

Easing into the role of authority, Jack brought his hands to his waist. Palms facing forward, he took a deliberate step forward and addressed the sailor by his official rank of sub-lieutenant.
“Fähnrich zur See—”

The rifle jerked. “Get your hands back where I can see them.”

Jack knew exactly what he had to do now. A plan began formulating in his head. Placate first. Stall. But, at all costs, avoid bloodshed.

He took another step forward, careful to keep from spooking the guard any further.

However, Kerensky—the careless, rash woman—chose that moment to join the conversation. “Oh, honestly, this is ridiculous,” she said, lowering her hands slowly, but without an ounce of hesitation. “
Fähnrich,
there must be some mistake. Although, I’m sure it’s nothing we can’t work out.”

The sailor’s eyes narrowed. “Do I know you?”

Jack recognized the curling in his gut as a mixture of anger and fear. He’d almost had things under control. Why hadn’t the woman kept her mouth shut?

“Let me handle this,” he hissed at her, his eyes burning with silent caution that only an idiot would ignore.

Kerensky, of course, chose to disregard the clear warning. Why he’d expected any differently was a mystery to him. With a flick of her wrist, she yanked off her
cap. Her braid tumbled down, down, down, landing in a soft thump against her back.

Holding back a string of oaths, Jack took another step forward, shifting to his right, until he stood between her and the guard.

The sailor’s face went dead-white as he craned his neck to look around Jack. “You… You’re Katarina Kerensky.”

So much for anonymity.

She pushed Jack aside and gave the sailor one of her brilliant smiles. “Why, yes. Yes, I am.”

Wonder of wonders, the boy’s shock turned into immediate adoration, and the rifle’s nose tipped toward the ground. Well, well. Kerensky was using her fame to dazzle the kid. Rash, yes. Careless, most definitely. But maybe, just maybe, workable.

“I grow weary of this silly game,” she said.

Jack agreed completely.

The gun tipped lower still. Another minute and the rifle would be Jack’s.

“Yes, I, that is, I thought you were a threat.”

“A threat? Oh, you can’t be serious.” She let out a tinkling laugh and tugged her braid over her left shoulder. Twisting the tip around her finger, she managed to look feminine, frivolous and very nonthreatening.

From the glint in the sailor’s eyes, it was clear the boy felt genuine embarrassment over the incident. Jack wouldn’t have believed it if he hadn’t seen it for himself. Even through the haze of his frustration, he knew the wisdom of letting the woman play out the charade to the bitter end.

“Fähnrich—”

“My name is Franz Heintzman, Fräulein Kerensky.”

“Well, Franz…” She looked up and smiled into his eyes, all grace and charm in the gesture. A fairy-tale princess come to life. “You don’t mind if I call you by your first name, do you?”

“I’d be honored.”

“You see, Franz,” she continued. “My, uh, friend and I were taking a stroll along the quay for some fresh air after…well…” She flipped her braid back over her shoulder and left the rest unsaid.

The sailor blinked. “But why here in Wilhelmshaven?”

Kerensky leaned forward, crooked her finger at him until he drew closer to her. “We wanted privacy this evening. I—” she straightened, reached out and clasped Jack’s hand for a brief moment “—or rather
we,
don’t want others to know of our liaison just yet.”

Jack actually heard the kid swallow. It was all over now. Battle lost. Surrender inevitable. He almost felt sorry for the boy. Almost.

The power of the woman was amazing, mind-boggling. Jack didn’t know whether to tap her on the back in admiration or wring her pretty little neck for taking such a risk.

“Yes, yes, I think I understand,” Franz said. Then he looked at Jack again, the earlier suspicion in his eyes replaced with unmistakable envy.

Kerensky had been wrong about one thing. Her beauty wasn’t a weapon. It was mass destruction.

As though sensing his silent awe, she gave Jack a quick smile then pivoted back to the sailor. “Franz, dear, perhaps we could keep this incident our little secret?” She circled her hand in a gesture that included all three of them. “Maybe pretend you never saw us here tonight?”

Clearly wavering between doing his duty and making friends with a famous actress, the sailor looked from her to Jack and back to her again. “I’m not sure I can do that.”

Kerensky turned him facing toward the harbor and hooked her arm in his. “Let’s talk plainly, shall we?” Lowering her voice, she created an intimacy between them that had the boy blinking rapidly. “I really don’t want anyone to know about my visit here, for obvious reasons. What would make this easier for you?”

“Well, I don’t suppose—” He stopped and looked everywhere but at her.

“Yes?” She patted his hand, blessing him with a look that had his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat.

“I have a two-day leave next week. And, I would really like to see your latest play.”

“Done.” She went on to explain where he could pick up his ticket, adding a promise to meet him backstage—in her dressing room—after the performance.

At the excited beam in the boy’s eyes, Jack had seen enough. It was long past time to end this farce.

Kerensky was no longer star of this show. Jack was.

Drawing alongside her, he gave a brief smile to the midshipman. Then, in a perfectly reasonable tone, he
said, “Darling, it’s getting late. We should be on our way.”

Instead of arguing with him, wonder of wonders, her eyes filled with relief. “Yes, yes, of course.”

Not one to miss an opportunity, Jack took immediate advantage of the woman’s startling cooperation. With his mind on escape, he eased Kerensky closer to him, while offering a quick farewell to the boy.

Jack waited just long enough for Kerensky to say her own farewell before wrapping his arm around her shoulder and steering her in the direction of the car.

Although the guard had fallen under Kerensky’s spell quickly enough, Jack knew their luck wouldn’t last. German military training was too strong, too thorough. It wouldn’t be long before the boy came to his senses and took them to his commanding officer for questioning.

Jack picked up the pace.

T
hree minutes and two blocks later, Katia let out a deep sigh of relief. Surprised at the need to rest in Reiter’s protection a little longer, she had to resist the urge to retreat farther into the safety of his casual embrace.

For one, they weren’t alone. She sensed rather than saw the sailor’s presence still behind them, watching. Waiting. Perhaps even wondering if he’d made the right decision in letting them go so easily.

She wanted to look over her shoulder, but Katarina Kerensky
never
looked back.

Instead, her eyes shot to Friedrich Reiter’s face. His expression was impassive, his steps slow and lazy. She wasn’t fooled for a second. She could feel the tension slicing through him. His entire body may have looked relaxed, but there was no doubt in her mind that he was wound tight, ready to attack if the need arose.

The thought was as comforting as it was disturbing.

She knew he could have taken out the sailor in a matter of seconds, but something had held him back from killing the young man.

Had it been a deep sense of morality? Or had he simply been maintaining the integrity of the mission, ensuring no signs of their presence were left behind? A dead or injured guard would have been an unmistakable calling card.

One they would not have been able to take back.

Swallowing hard, she felt unusually restless and uneasy. Perhaps it was because she knew so little about the man walking beside her. And yet, she trusted him completely.

Odd. Katarina Kerensky trusted no one except herself. A Scripture came to mind, one her father had taught her during the dark days of revolution.
But they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary…

Because the verse had brought her father great comfort, Katia had memorized it, as well. Along with his other favorite verse,
My grace is sufficient.
Even in his last moments, Vladimir Kerensky had never lost faith in God.

Could Katia ever trust the Lord again, like she had as a child thanks to her father’s righteous example? After years of relying on her own strength, she doubted it would be as easy as making a decision on a cold night in Wilhelmshaven. Still…

Hope and bitterness warred within her. She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, to surrender to the Lord or continue in her own strength like always. Up to this point, she’d done well on her own.

But now?

Now
things were…different.

And she feared the man walking beside her had everything to do with the change.

She needed time to think, to sort through her confusion, but they weren’t safe yet.

“We better make this look real,” she whispered. “I’m sure our new friend is still watching.”

“Excellent idea.” Reiter stopped, turned her until she faced him directly. The intensity in his gaze made the air hitch deep in her lungs. She couldn’t bear the way his eyes searched her face, but she was too mesmerized to look away.

“Our man’s less than fifty yards behind you, on your left,” he said, leaning down to touch his forehead to hers. “We have to get this right the first time.”

“You don’t need to worry about me. Let’s not forget who just saved whom.”

He pulled back and rewarded her with a quiet smile. She decided his quiet smiles were the most dangerous. “Gloating, are you?” he asked.

“Absolutely.” She leaned into him, blinked like a cowering fool, because, well, why deny the truth? She wanted him to kiss her. And wasn’t that incredibly shocking?

His grin never faltered. In fact, to the untrained eye, he looked completely smitten with her. If Friedrich Reiter needed a career after the war, the man could make a fortune on the stage.

Dropping his head until their noses were an inch apart, he waited a beat. “I’d expect nothing less from you.”

He was making her nervous, and that made her angry. Not to mention incredibly afraid of losing control. She tried not to bristle, but temper mixed with confusion and fear twisted into a hard knot in her stomach, and had her wishing for a little more privacy. So she could kick him in the shin. “Why do your compliments always sound like insults?”

His expression softened. “Just part of my charm.”

“Of course.”

Watching him closely, she didn’t move, didn’t breathe. An eternity passed before his lips touched hers. They pressed, retreated, pressed again. A moment passed, then another. By the third, her knees gave out and she stumbled into him.

“Well done, that should convince him,” he said as he helped her find her balance, then set her at arm’s length.

His voice sounded too steady. Too sure. How could the man remain that unmoved when her own legs were literally giving way under the weight of her reaction to their short, meaningless, pretend kiss?

She had to cling to his shoulders to keep from tripping into him again.

He gave her an odd look, almost sad. “Let’s not overdo it, Kerensky.”

With a few quick maneuvers, he tucked her under his arm again, and led her toward the car.

“Our man just left,” he informed her.

“I know.”

Needing distance, she took a step away from him, but he tightened his grip on her shoulder and pulled her
back against him. “He could come back,” he explained at her questioning stare.

“Right.” But how was she supposed to calm her scrambling pulse when he wouldn’t let her have room to breathe?

Enough was enough. She was through being the only one off balance. “I saw your look of shock when I started talking,” she said. There. That should get an interesting reaction out of him.

For the first time that night, his steps faltered. “Shock doesn’t begin to describe it.”

“Oh?” She smiled sweetly at him, fully aware that she was baiting the human equivalent of a wild animal. What was the old saying about pulling a tiger by his tail? Did the same apply to cougars?

“Try frustration, anger, sheer terror for your safety. That sailor had his full attention on
me,
which is exactly where I wanted it. What I did not want,” he said as his voice filled with reproach, “was him noticing you.”

She was starting to get seriously insulted. “As if I can’t take care of myself,” she muttered.

“By revealing your true identity? That’s how you take care of yourself?” He blew out a frustrated breath. “It’s a wonder you’re still alive.”

“But I am. And so are you. Thanks to me, I might add.”

“What happens if your name shows up in a report, Katarina? Did you think about that when you were playing the famous actress out for a little tryst with her…friend?”

“Revealing my identity made it more believable. You’d
see that if you’d look past your colossal ego. Let’s say my name does end up in a report, so what? All it will say is that Katarina Kerensky and her unnamed friend decided to come to this obscure little village to avoid stares. My idea was just short of brilliant.”

“If you do say so yourself.”

“Weren’t you the one who said you wanted us to appear as lovers, in case someone saw us?” She gifted him with a smug grin. “But, no, wait, you were too busy thinking like a soldier back there, instead of a regular man.”

His eyes, a deep, troubled blue that had judged her just minutes before, now looked…weary. “All right, you have me there.”

She stared at him, her eyes going wide in spite of her attempt at playing nonchalant. “You admit it?”

They rounded the corner to the alley and he made a grand show of opening the car door for her. “Haven’t you ever met a man who can admit when he’s wrong?”

“Actually, I haven’t,” she said as she lowered herself to the seat.

He scooted her over with his hip and then settled in next to her. “Then let me be your first.”

Having a man, especially such a large man as Friedrich Reiter, sitting this close to her made the inside of the dark car seem too crowded, too confining.

Blinking at him, she shifted farther across the seat, but when he dug the keys out of their hiding place, she froze. “Shouldn’t I drive again?”

“No. You need to get some sleep. But before you settle in, let me have the box.” He opened his palm to her.

Too exhausted to argue with him, she slipped the wax impression into his hand without a word.

After pocketing the tiny box in his jacket, he turned his attention to starting the car and steering out of the alley.

Once they were heading toward Hamburg, Katia busied herself with watching the passing scenery. Dark clouds drifted in odd patterns across the sky, converging in front of the moon and plunging the landscape into an eerie darkness. Apprehension slithered up her spine, making her shudder from the weight of the sensation.

A still, small voice whispered a warning in her mind.

Something didn’t feel right about tonight, something she couldn’t quite name. Not just the incident with the guard, but something else entirely, something to do with the mission.

Had she missed another important detail?

Trying to remain calm, she ignored the odd shivers dancing along her skin. But the sense of foreboding wouldn’t go away.

Worrying was useless. So, she forced her mind to run through every detail of her time in Doenitz’s room. The initial entry, dropping to the floor, making the impression of the key, her swift exit, the…

Oh, no!

No, no, no, no, no.

How could she have been so careless? In her haste to get out of the room, she had moved the chair to a slightly different angle below the window.

She’d exited quickly, quietly and, what she had thought
at the time, efficiently. Only now did she realize that she’d left the chair out of its original position.

After all her planning and all her posturing, she’d made a second mistake in so many days. They would have to abandon the mission now.

She needed calm. She needed strength, the same strength her father had tapped in to in his final days in Russia.
They that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up…

No, wait. She was allowing the stress of the evening to do her thinking for her. She’d only left the chair marginally out of place. No one would notice the shift in its position unless specifically looking.

Friedrich Reiter had done this to her. With his dead-on suspicions about her Jewish blood and
pretend
kisses, he’d made her doubt herself and her abilities. He’d made her think she wasn’t in control of her own destiny, when she’d been just fine on her own for years.

She’d never failed to complete a mission successfully.

She would prevail in this one, too.

Admiral Doenitz would never discover her tiny mistake. She was almost sure of it.