Betty, Alex and Gustav formed a tense circle around the site of last night's campfire. The day was quickly growing old around them and preparations for the night's activities set a feverish pace throughout the camp. This moment in the late afternoon was the first time Gustav had been able to set aside for them all day and the visiting members of Section N listened intently as he outlined the plan for them. When Gustav was done, Alex sat back and puffed out an incredulous breath.
"You want us to go in there dressed as gypsies? From what I've heard, the Nazis have a particular dislike for those people."
Gustav's teeth flashed in the dying sunlight as his lips parted in a wry grin. "Then they won't be too surprised when we attack them. We must have some sort of disguise in order to get close enough to the compound. They'll assume we're looking for food or a night's lodging, and by the time they discover we intend something entirely different, we'll already be amongst them. Otherwise, we'll be too far away for you and Betty to slip in the back of the castle to look for Scott. I think we can provide the men there with the necessary distraction to give you just enough time to complete your search and hopefully smuggle Scott out safely. It's a good plan, yes?"
"Yes, it is a good plan," Betty agreed when Alex only looked dubious. "And anyhow, it's the only one we've got and we're out of time. We have to make it work."
"We will. I've been planning attacks and carrying them out for years now. Piece of cake." Gustav shrugged as if he hadn't a care in the world and Betty felt a warm rush of tears as he spoke the familiar words that sounded so alien with a strong French accent.
"Now you must excuse me. There is much to do, and you both need to change your clothes." Without further speech, Gustav hurried away from their circle, leaving Betty and Alex to consider what the next few hours might bring.
"It's hard to believe this will all be over in such a short time," Betty observed absently, her eyes staring off into the distance.
"Yes, it will be over soon. I only hope Gustav knows what he's doing," Alex returned with a concerned frown.
"Oh, I'm sure he does." Betty rose quickly to her friend's defense. "He knows the situation here better than anyone else. He's the perfect person to plan this mission."
"Just don't forget he's also the person who blindly led your husband into a trap," Alex pointed out pessimistically.
"That's not fair. It could have happened to anyone and anyway, it's not his fault. We've got to find out who the leak in Section N is so this doesn't happen again. If you want someone to blame, find the traitor. I'm going to go get ready." Frustrated and more frightened than she cared to admit, Betty scrambled away from the fire pit and back to her tent, refusing to be discouraged by Alex's attitude.
Once inside her tent, she discovered the gypsy clothing laid out on her bedroll and changed quickly, knowing Gustav would want to move shortly since they had rather a long walk to the castle before them. When she'd finished changing, she stopped for a moment and looked up, as if she could see the sky through the roof of the sturdy canvas tent. She closed her eyes and murmured a rapid prayer, believing fervently that God was on their side. That task complete, she stepped out of her tent and glanced around, noticing that the group was gathering at the far end of the camp, and that Alex was not among them.
Determined that he wouldn't hold them up, Betty decided to search for him, going first to his own tent which was just a couple down from hers. He didn't respond when she called his name and, curious, she glanced inside. His gypsy costume was missing, so he'd at least found time to change, but where had he gone afterward? Betty continued down the row of tents, calling his name and pausing every once in awhile to listen for a reply.
At last she reached the tent she knew housed the wireless and other communication equipment. She shrugged, knowing he'd have no reason to be in that tent or any of the ones beyond it. Pivoting slowly, she was just beginning to retrace her steps when she heard the soft murmur of voices...no, just one, a carefully hushed male voice.
Curious, she moved noiselessly toward the tent with the wireless equipment which seemed to be the source of the noise. She approached slowly, knowing that eavesdropping in this type of situation was potentially lethal. The voice was vaguely familiar, she realized as she came closer, but sounded strange, the cadence somehow foreign. That wasn't so unusual, however, when most transmissions were sent via some code or other. Her hand reached for the door flap, but just as she was about to draw it back, the voice suddenly cut off mid-sentence and Alex came barreling out of the tent.
Betty jumped back in surprise and Alex stared at her belligerently. "What are you doing?" he demanded roughly.
"I could ask you the same thing," she returned defensively, suspicion narrowing her eyes.
He frowned darkly back at her. "I was sending a status report to General Hopkins. As ordered," he added when she continued to stare at him.
"Oh," she nodded slowly and for a moment, they stood in silence.
"Look, if you don't believe me, you can check the frequency of the last transmission, but frankly it's a waste of time when everyone else is ready to go." He sighed and rubbed a hand along the back of his neck. "You and I both know there's a leak, but you've got to believe that it's not me, or we'll never finish this mission. We have to trust each other. First rule of being partners." His engaging smile blossomed, and although Betty outwardly agreed with him, she failed to banish a cold doubt the niggled somewhere at the back of her mind. Alex may not be the leak, but there was still something about him she couldn't entirely trust, and she'd be glad when she could work exclusively with Scott again.
Alex took her arm and led her back to the group, the touch reminding her once again of that day on the firing range. He'd had his arms around her and Scott had been convinced that he'd been trying to seduce her in some way. She'd laughed it off at the time, feeling warm and secure and loved with Scott beside her, but now she wasn't so sure. The look she'd so often surprised in Alex's eyes since that day held such relentless desire for her that she could no longer shrug it away as a harmless crush.
Desire was natural, she'd felt it often enough herself, seen it almost every time Scott looked into her eyes. The feeling was powerful, drawing them irresistibly together like magnets that sparked and burned when they made contact. But what happened when it went unrequited for months? What did it do to a man whose entire existence had been one of rejection and isolation?
Scott had emerged from a solitary lifestyle unscathed, capable of loving and being loved in a normal, healthy relationship. But his personality and character were stronger and more fully developed than Alex's. Underneath everything he was noble and unselfish, things that were virtually impossible to hide. But was it always like that? Could a lifetime of unsatisfying relationships, coupled with a weak character, ultimately leave a man twisted and bitter, feeling no allegiance to anyone or anything so that he turned toward something that was the antithesis of decency?
Betty shook off the dark direction of her thoughts as they joined the others, convincing herself that her worries for Scott were responsible for her morbid turn of mind. Her fears only partially allayed, she focused her attention on Gustav as he gave orders in a low, intense voice.
Before long, they were underway, looking for all intents and purposes as just another gypsy caravan traveling from town to town. Betty's mind concentrated on the hours ahead, but she knew Alex's eyes watched her, and the knowledge chilled her.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Pruitt stood back to admire his handiwork, flexing his hand to alleviate the numbness. Scott's face looked like the patchwork crazy quilt Rollie's great-grandmother had sewn before she'd lost her sight. Grimly, he reviewed the last hour he'd spent alone with Scott. Despite the assurances Pruitt had made regarding Betty's safety in return for information, Scott had remained silent, offering not even the smallest amount of cooperation. Pruitt knew it was because, deep down, Scott didn't believe Betty was in France, but the Nazi spy knew otherwise.
A peremptory knock sounded at the door and Pruitt barked out a command to enter. While his back was turned, Scott feebly raised his head, curious as to what sort of message was important enough to interrupt their private session. He watched as Rollie took a thin slip of paper in his hand and studied it for a moment before crushing it in a gleeful fist.
"The proof is here, Sherwood. The rebels are on their way and Betty is with them. You'll see your wife one last time, but it will be my face you'll see as you gasp for your final breath."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Betty crouched with the others at the edge of the deep undergrowth of the forest, looking at the castle spread before them in all it's faded glory. They'd been undercover here for the last ten minutes, waiting for the sun to set further before venturing nearer the fortress. Gustav hoped that darkness would help to further protect them from the Nazis noticing any deficiency in their costumes, but Betty thought the quiet waiting would drive her to screaming fits. She was so close to Scott, so near to rescuing him, and although she understood Gustav's reasoning, the wait was interminably frustrating.
To calm her nerves, she looked again to the side of the castle she and Alex would shortly be sneaking around to reach a door hidden in the back side of the structure. Gustav knew from his contact, Therese, that this door was nearest to where Scott was being held. They knew the exact location of Scott's cell, the problem being that since the Jackal's return, it was likely the prisoner had been moved to one of the nearby interrogation rooms and there had been no time to discover precisely which one. Betty shrugged that problem aside. The real problem was getting inside. Once that was done, everything else became almost simplistic, since Gustav's band should draw most of the men in the castle outside.
Gustav whistled sharply, and Betty knew the moment had arrived. Alex took a firm grip on her hand as they fell in at the end of the line of rebels. The look he gave her was grim and tense, and she hoped the only reason for it was an attack of nerves. The group filed out of the woods, keeping close together, but still managing to look utterly casual. Betty couldn't help but be impressed at the relative ease with which this had been accomplished. Gustav's band had become expert during the war years, and not much frightened them anymore. The only thing that truly worried them was German tyranny, and they were doing all they could to combat that.
The front of the long line was even now reaching the somewhat ramshackle gates and Betty's hand involuntarily tightened on Alex's. He looked down at her and half smiled, though the expression didn't reach his eyes.
There's something missing in him, Betty realized with a flash of insight, some warmth of humanity that's always been lacking. She'd been sorry for him before, but no longer. He wasn't the type to want sympathy, and she had the feeling he'd joined up with Section N for all the wrong reasons. Not out of a feeling of patriotism or a desire to protect the world from encroaching Nazi power, but for personal glory and the thrill of an adventure. They were selfish, inadequate reasons, and in this line of work, they were also dangerous ones. Betty understood now the intense dislike Scott held for the other man whose immaturity alone had led him here, and she began to share it.
There was nothing to be done about that now, however, and Betty knew she had to push her doubts about Alex's character aside for the time being and trust General Hopkins' assessment of his loyalty.
She stood in tense silence as Gustav, at the head of the caravan, was greeted warily by one of the German guards who were aligned outside the main entrance. For a moment they spoke quietly, then the other man began to back away, but Gustav reached out to clap a companionable, and detaining, hand on the other man's rigid arm. No sooner had he made contact than he whipped a gun out of his waistband with his other hand, shooting the Nazi at point blank range.
The shot galvanized the entire scene into action. Both groups sprang toward each other and as shots rang out, the small area began to grow smoky. More soldiers spilled out of the doorway behind the initial group of Germans and Betty wondered if Gustav had miscalculated the number of soldiers here. Before she had time to consider it more, Alex was tugging her along to the left, running low to the ground. They left the melee behind and no one noticed their departure. The group of rebels had provided them with a successful diversion.
Betty and Alex reached the ivy-covered castle wall and leaned up against it to catch their breath. Alex looked down at her and indicated with a quick nod that he was ready to continue. Betty agreed and they crept quickly along the wall, pausing for only a moment to peer around the corner when they reached it. Alex continued around the corner and waved her forward. He removed a lockpick from his pocket and went to work on the rusty, disused mechanism.
He swore repeatedly under his breath and beads of perspiration broke out on his forehead as the lock remained persistently shut. Betty watched him anxiously for a moment then turned to scan the area to be sure they hadn't been detected. The immediate area was quiet and deserted and would have been almost bucolically pleasant if it hadn't been for the muffled shouts, curses and gunshots emanating from the other side of the imposing building.
At last, the lock gave, and Alex pushed her up against the wall before he opened the door. He drew a gun from the holster concealed under his arm and gingerly reached for the door handle, expecting, and getting, a loud creak as he swung it open. Betty expected half the German army to pour out of the opening, but nothing came and silence still reigned in the little clearing.
Alex moved into the doorway, motioning her to follow and Betty crept up behind him. The corridor was sparsely lit, the air damp and cloying as they moved slowly along the way, counting doors as they went. Betty shivered in the oppressive atmosphere and Alex's presence was of little comfort. At last they reached the door they knew must be Scott's cell and once again Alex produced the lockpick to begin the tedious task of opening the door. This lock was in much better condition and Alex's hand was swift and sure as he deftly unlatched it.
Betty resisted the urge to call Scott's name, knowing that doing so would alert anyone else in the area to their presence. The ease with which they'd moved down the hall thus far surprised her. She'd known most of the Germans would be distracted by the battle raging out front, but she'd still counted on some opposition before they'd reached this point.
The door swung inward and Alex leapt into the aperture, but no sounds of struggle came from the room and Betty peered around the door jamb. She hurried inside the brightly lit room, taking in the sparse furnishings and the rumpled cot in the corner.
"He isn't here," she said dejectedly, blinking fiercely as the bright light in the room assaulted her eyes. "We'll have to keep searching. He must be in one of the interrogation rooms Therese told us about." She turned around to face Alex who stood next to the door.
"Yes, let's go," Alex motioned her curtly to his side and after a quick glance into the hallway, they were moving further into the castle.
The path took a downward dip, and Betty's thoughts inevitably turned toward dungeons and torture chambers as they passed through a labyrinth of corridors. The walls were damp with moisture and the persistent roots of trees and plants had pushed their way between cracks in the stones, indicating they were underground. They hadn't seen any doors in some time and Betty had just begun to wonder if they hadn't taken a wrong turn somewhere when Alex suddenly stopped short.
He turned to face her, leaning in close. "I think this is far enough," he said softly.
"Far enough for what?" Betty demanded in a confused whisper. "Are you sure we've come the right way?"
"Positive," Alex responded, raising his voice with arrogant unconcern.
"Where are the interrogation rooms? From the look of that door, it hasn't been used in years. We must have gone wrong somewhere," Betty remonstrated, though an icy prickle of fear began to work its way along her spine.
"The interrogation rooms? I'm sure we're quite far from them. But we have reached what you might call a juncture, my dear Mrs. Sherwood," Alex's eyes flashed ominously in the dingy electric light.
Betty backed away from him, unnerved by the disturbed gleam in his eyes, her only thought to get back out to clean air and away from the man they'd all so seriously underestimated. "It's you, isn't it? You set up this whole thing."
Alex's hand shot out to snatch her wrist, crushing her bones together in a bruising grip. She winced at the pain and he drew her near him again. "Not so fast, Betty. You can't leave, now that we have a chance to really know each other."
"I know everything I need to know about you. You're a traitor to the Allied cause. You didn't contact Hopkins, you radioed here to the castle to warn them we were on our way. You're on their side. That's why no one's stopped us yet." She gasped in pain as he gripped her by both arms, his fingers biting into her flesh.
"Very astute. But that's exactly what I'd expect from you, Betty." She could feel his breath on her face, but the light was too dim to read his expression, making it impossible for her to know what he was thinking. "I've always admired your mind, the quick way you put things together, and here you've done it again."
"It's not so hard when you leave a trail a mile wide," Betty tried to sound braver than she felt.
Alex laughed softly, his breath puffing against her face again. "I had to leave a trail for you. I wanted you to know."
"Why?"
"Because you're the only one that cared. The only one that accepted me. You can't deny the way you feel about me." She caught the gleam of his teeth, the flash obscene in the murky light.
Tears burned in her eyes, seared her throat, the pain in her arms was intense. "The way I feel about you?" she finally gasped out.
"You've been so coy, so sly, playing me against your husband for months. Testing us, deciding who was more worthy. Haven't you made your decision yet?" He waited expectantly, his smile smug enough to make her stomach churn.
"There was never a decision to make, Alex. I love my husband, and I never led you on." Repugnance and fear made her unusually emphatic.
"The game is over, Betty!" he snarled. "Your husband is lost, but I am here. I am the survivor, and as such, I can offer you a choice which he never could."
"A choice?" The question came out on a sob of pain. "What choice?"
"Victory. It's not too late for you to change the direction of your life and choose to be on the winning side of this war. I can make the transition possible for you if you come to Berlin with me. It's the only way I can save your life. Before long, the world must accept the unstoppable power of the Third Reich. All opposition will be crushed, you along with it unless you accept my offer. You must see that it's the only way." His voice was the low, intense hiss of a fully-converted fanatic, made all the more dramatic by the fire blazing in his eyes.
"No, I don't see that," Betty objected. "You're wrong about the way things are going. The Nazis are losing, and everyone knows it but them. It's you who will die."
Enraged, Alex pushed her up against the unforgiving stone wall, a sharp edge jutting into the back of her head. Betty gave a yelp of pain, but before she could fight against him, he'd trapped her throat in his hand, drawing his gun with the other.
"I was afraid you'd say something like that," he hissed out seconds before a single gunshot shattered the silence.
Our Mutual Spy
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