Assignment prague, p.3
Assignment Prague, page 3
The doctor’s car had a trunk. It wasn’t a pleasant thought, but maybe they could haul her in the trunk to the flat they had rented for her. The doctor had reasons to be on the streets at night, so he could visit her at the apartment when necessary. Anton knew he would have to stay with her for a while, and Mrs. Svobodova might get suspicious if he stayed away from the flat for a long period of time. And what would the landlady do if she were suspicious? Maybe nothing. At least he hoped so.
He heard the door open and close at five, and he jumped up and ran to look out. Erik was just disappearing around the corner, and Anton knew he couldn’t create the commotion of chasing after him. Damn these kids! Why was he saddled with teenagers? And now a woman. There was nothing to be done but hope Erik would make it home without being caught and Tereza could be moved with no problems.
He finally dozed, and the alarm sounded at nine. He dressed in the same workingman’s clothes he wore the day before and went downstairs to the bakery. Mrs. Svobodova had found coffee somewhere, and she poured a cup for him. She had a piece of bread also, and a small sweet roll she brought up from under the counter. She told him she had potatoes and would make soup later in the day, so he paid her for that, too, when he left.
The church was a short walk, and he arrived there a few minutes before ten. The hushed atmosphere always gave Anton a feeling of tranquility, at least for the short time he was there. He walked down the center aisle and sat in a pew near the front. He was alone in the church; he took the coded message from inside his shirt and slipped it into a newspaper he picked up along the way.
The tall, thin man who met him faithfully each time he called sat down beside him. “Good morning. Anything interesting in the paper today?”
“Just the usual.” His contact would know the paper was full of the usual Nazi propaganda. Anton’s thoughts now were on getting to the doctor’s office and solving the problem of getting Tereza out of there. “I’ve finished reading. Would you like the paper?”
“Yes, thanks.” The contact looked around. “I feel the need to give you an early warning. There’s been talk that something needs to be done about the Skoda Munitions Works. I—”
“By something, you mean sabotage, or a fire . . . something like that?”
“Nothing has been decided yet, but the thinking is that the production of panzers needs to be slowed down or stopped. It’s almost certain you’ll be involved, whatever is decided.”
Anton nodded. Here was something more to worry about. But he had more pressing problems at the moment, and he stood up to leave. “Thanks for letting me know. I must go now.”
The contact picked up the paper and began looking at the headlines. Anton nodded at the man and left. From the church he walked to Dr. Havelka’s office, again entering through the back. He tapped on the door to the room where Tereza was being kept and got no answer. He went in; she was lying just as she was when he was there last. If he waited here long enough, someone would come to check on her.
It wasn’t long till Dr. Havelka came in. “I don’t know what’s going on, but an acquaintance of mine, a doctor, called me earlier. He said the Gestapo came and searched his office from top to bottom. He was going to call all the doctors he knows to warn them. I’ve been calling some myself. Do you know what’s happening? More importantly, we need to do something with Tereza immediately.”
“The Nazis went to the field where she landed. They know someone came down in the tree, and of course they assume that person was injured. Is your car here?”
“They brought it back this morning. It’s in the garage.”
“Let’s put her in the trunk and drive her somewhere. Tell the patients in the waiting room you’ve been called away on an emergency.”
“I can’t leave Anna here alone to face the Gestapo. You take the car and take her somewhere in the country. Do you have any relatives who could help?”
“My only relative nearby is an aunt, who lives just down the street.”
“Could you take her there?”
“The biggest problem with that is she has a maid that I’m not sure of. She’s fairly new, and I don’t know her that well.”
“Might be risky. Take her back to that barn, drive the car into the barn, and get her into the front of the car. Don’t take her out of the car. Remember the rats.”
“I could drive back into town after dark. Let me have your permit. Maybe I’ll take her to my apartment.” As soon as he said this, he knew it wouldn’t work. He wasn’t thinking clearly. What if Eliska came by and found her there? It would be more than a problem, it could be a disaster. And the landlady usually brought food every day. What would she think if she saw a young woman with a cast on her leg? He’d have to take her to the apartment they rented for her a few blocks from his.
Anton was impressed with the way Dr. Havelka gave up his permit without hesitation. Would that there were more like him. They went to Tereza’s room and put her on the stretcher. Anton could see they had found a dress for her somewhere, and she had a shoe and sock on her right foot that looked as if they came off the foot of a farm worker. They carried her to the garage without looking around to see who was watching. It would be best to act as if they were performing an everyday task, that it didn’t matter if anyone was watching or not. Once inside the garage, they shut the door and lifted her into the trunk.
Anton drove out, wondering about the air supply in the trunk. Surely it was ample for the half-hour drive to the barn. He hoped the Nazis would be so busy searching medical facilities that they wouldn’t be setting up roadblocks. He was afraid to speed—the worst thing he could do would be to call attention to himself.
When he reached the barn, he drove inside far enough, he hoped, so that the car couldn’t be seen from the dirt road. He got out quickly and opened the trunk to find a wide-awake Tereza staring at him.
CHAPTER FOUR
The man was looking at her as if he were surprised to find her in his trunk. “Where am I?” She said the words in English and then had the feeling that she shouldn’t be speaking English. She wasn’t sure why, but nothing was clear at this point.
“You’re okay, but no English, please.” He was speaking Czech and smiling now, so he seemed less formidable.
“Where am I,” this time in Czech.
“You’re in the trunk of a Rolls Royce in a barn in the Czech countryside. I need to carry you to the front of the car, and then we can talk.” He picked her up, and a pain shot through her left leg that was sharp enough to make her gasp. “Sorry.” He placed her on the passenger seat, then went around and got in behind the wheel.
She was concerned about saying anything until she could figure out what was happening to her, so she waited for him to speak.
“Do you remember parachuting into Czechoslovakia?”
“No.” She would say as little as possible till she decided whether she could trust this man.
“Your chute didn’t open—well, it partially opened at the last minute, and you managed somehow to land in a tree. Or maybe a gust of wind just blew you there. Anyway, that was Wednesday at about two a.m. We took you to the office of a doctor in Prague, and he sewed up your cuts and put a cast on your leg. Then the Nazis came to the field where you landed and were snooping around, so we knew they’d be searching the medical facilities for an injured jumper. I had to bring you here. Do you remember your name?”
“I’m Alexandra Novak.” She saw him cringe when she said this and thought it was a reaction to the fact that she didn’t use Novakova, putting the traditional Czech feminine ending on her surname. But then, it just wasn’t done in America. He surely could understand that.
“No, you’re Tereza Valentova. You must never say the other name again. Do you remember why you’re here?”
The fog in her mind was beginning to lift a little. “I’m Tereza Valentova from the Sudetenland. My father was Czech and my mother German, which explains why I speak both languages.” She found herself saying the words as if they had been imprinted on her brain. She wondered why she was saying them, when she knew she was Alexandra Novak. “What day is it now?”
“It’s Thursday. It was only yesterday morning that you arrived.”
“Why didn’t my parachute open?”
“There was no way of telling. It was tangled in the tree, and I had to rip it and cut it to get it out of the tree. Of course, we had to bury it immediately, so we’ll never know what happened. Maybe it wasn’t packed properly.”
She wanted to curl up in the backseat and sleep, but it seemed like too much trouble to get back there with the cast on her leg. “My leg hurts.”
“The doctor gave me some pills for the pain and a jar of water. I’ll get them.” He got out and opened the trunk, and then returned and took the lid off a glass jar. “You’ll have to drink out of the jar. I don’t have anything else.” He handed her a small white pill.
She still wasn’t sure she trusted him, but she was desperate to take something for the pain, so she swallowed the pill. “My head hurts, too.”
“I hope the pill will fix it. Do you remember why you came here?”
“Everything seems a jumble right now.” Actually, she was beginning to remember a lot of things, but she didn’t know how much she should divulge. The man beside her probably wanted her to think he was Czech, but he didn’t look like the Czech descendants she knew back in Texas. They all had blonde hair and green eyes like she did. Maybe she should ask, but would he tell her the truth? Maybe he was a Nazi trying to get information from her, but he didn’t look like a German, either. “Are you Czech?”
“Yes, I was born here.”
“You don’t look much like the Czechs I know.”
“There are plenty of Czechs who don’t really look like Czechs. My great-grandmother was Romanian. Her hair was dark, too. Actually, I’ve always suspected she was a gypsy, but no one in the family wants to talk about it. Especially now, when the Nazis are rounding up gypsies and other groups they consider undesirable. Everyone else in my family has blonde hair, but I took after her.”
His eyes were gray, and his skin was fair. One thing she didn’t want to do at this point was to assess his attractiveness, but it was difficult not to notice that he was extremely attractive. Obviously he was trying to keep the conversation light, hoping she would trust him. “What’s our next move?”
“We have to wait here till well after dark. Then I’ll take you to an apartment we rented for you. You’ll have to stay there till you’re well enough to continue with the work you were sent here to do.”
“What about food? And I have a feeling I don’t have any clothes other than what I’m wearing.”
“I’ll take care of things. Unfortunately, food isn’t plentiful here, but we’ll do the best we can. I have a landlady who owns a bakery that the Nazis enjoy, so she’s able to get things the average shop owner doesn’t have access to.”
Tereza heard a noise behind the car, and she turned to see a huge man walking toward the car with a pitchfork in his hand.
CHAPTER FIVE
Anton turned toward the back of the car and saw the man approaching. He thought about his gun in the box on his bookshelf and wished he’d remembered to put it back in the car. He’d never killed anyone, but this might have been his first experience if he had the gun, because the hulking man approaching them was carrying a pitchfork. If he didn’t harm them, he might memorize their license plate and describe the car to the Nazis, which would put the doctor in jeopardy. As it was, without the gun, he’d have to bluff. The car windows were down, and it was too late to roll all of them up. He put his hand on Tereza’s leg; she jerked away at first and then seemed to understand.
“What are you doing in my barn?” He was standing beside Anton’s door.
Anton smiled and hoped the smile was convincing. “Just looking for a little privacy. My wife has spies all over town, so my girlfriend and I look for a place in the country. You look like a married man. You know what wives can be like.”
The man stood there pondering this for a moment. He looked directly at Tereza. “You get out of the car.” Then at Anton. “You get out of here.”
Anton opened the door with all the force he could muster in such a confined space, slamming it into the man and knocking him down. He shut the door and started the car, but the man hoisted himself up on the side of the car and then reached in and cut off the engine. “Get out,” he shouted at Tereza. He had dropped his pitchfork when he fell, and he now reached through the window and began choking Anton. Anton punched him in the stomach, but this was like punching a bag of cement. He tried unsuccessfully to pry the man’s fingers from around his throat. Then his attacker gasped and slowly sank to the ground.
Tereza was standing beside the man with the pitchfork in her hands. How in the devil had she managed to get out of the car and around to the other side with the cast on her leg? He gasped and caught his breath. “Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it. You’d better drag him to the back of the barn and get us out of here.” Her face was white. She dropped the pitchfork and hobbled back to the passenger side.
“I’ll help you get back in the car. Then I’ll get rid of Attila the Hun here.” He sounded more flippant than he felt; the episode had left him shaken. He’d been trained in killing by the resistance, but he’d never seen a man die in front of him. For a moment he thought he was going to be sick, but he managed to control the feeling.
He noticed that Tereza was shaking as she stood there staring at the man. Anton helped her into the passenger seat, then knelt by the man and felt for a pulse. There was none. He could see blood oozing from his side. It took all his strength to drag the body to the back of the barn, where he placed it beside some bales of hay. He placed the pitchfork, tines down, next to the body after wiping it down with his handkerchief. Maybe whoever discovered him would think he fell on the pitchfork.
He started the car. “We need to get out of here before anyone else shows up.” They reached the highway and he turned west, away from Prague. “I’ll stop somewhere and see if I can find something to eat. I can’t take you in anywhere with the Nazis looking for an injured person, but I’ll get something and bring it to the car. Are you hungry?”
“I’m starving. I guess that’s a healthy sign.”
“We need to get you some crutches. The doctor has some, but in our rush to get you out of his office we forgot to put them in the car. We weren’t thinking about them because we didn’t know when you’d wake up and be able to use them. We’ll get you settled in the apartment tonight, and I’ll return the doctor’s car. Maybe he can drive me back to the apartment with the crutches. I can’t take a chance on being seen with them on the street.”
They came to Hostivice, where they spotted a small store beside the road. The proprietor looked out the window as Anton walked in; he was taking an interest in the Rolls Royce. “May I help you?”
The shelves were nearly bare. “I’d like some food. Do you have anything?”
“Do you have coupons?”
Anton took his ration card from his pocket. He had given most of the coupons to Mrs. Svobodova for the food she furnished him.
“I have a little bread and cheese. Also a couple of apples.” He obviously had seen that there was another person in the car.
“I’ll take all that.” He’d give it to Tereza. Mrs. Svobodova had mentioned that she was making something—potato soup, wasn’t it? He’d have that later—exactly when, he wasn’t sure. He paid and gave what was left of his ration cards to the shopkeeper.
He insisted he wasn’t hungry, so Tereza devoured the bread and cheese as he drove down the highway. She said he had to at least have one of the apples. He found another dirt road that led down to a small creek where two boys were fishing. Anton took the apples from the brown paper bag the clerk had given him and hoped the boys would go home soon, but they were fascinated with the Rolls Royce. They soon abandoned their poles and came to stare at the car.
“Is that your car, mister?” the older one asked.
“It belongs to my boss. He let me borrow it for today.”
“What you doing down here by the creek?”
“We came down to eat our apples. Would you and your brother like part of one?”
“He ain’t my brother, but he’d like some. I would, too.”
Anton took a penknife from his pocket and cut his apple into thirds. Tereza tried to give him hers, but he insisted she eat it. He handed the kids their share.
“What happened to your leg, lady?”
Anton answered, establishing the alibi they originally thought of. “She was riding her bicycle and a car hit her. It broke her leg.” The kids were going to go home and tell their families about seeing a Rolls Royce and a woman with a broken leg. They’d have to leave as soon as they finished the apples.
He started the car while the boys were still inspecting it. “Give us a ride!” the younger one shouted.
“Can’t do it. Your fishing poles are going to get the seats wet and dirty.”
“We’ll leave them here. We come back every day.”
Anton looked at Tereza and shrugged. He wondered whether she grasped their need for secrecy. “I’ll give you a ride to the highway. You’ll have to walk from there.”
Now the older boy joined in. “To my house, please. I want my older brother to see me in a Rolls.”
“Sorry, I can’t do that. If you want a ride to the highway, get in.”
They both climbed into the backseat and leaned back against the soft leather upholstery. “I’m going to tell my brother about this, but he’ll never believe me.”
