Crossword (32 page)

"There is no time to rest. We must get this into the
car and head for the border, to whatever location you were instructed to use to
leave this sinking ship."

He sighed, wanting only to rest his battered and bruised
body for a few minutes, but he knew she was correct; every minute of delay
increased the danger for them. Grudgingly, his body followed his commands and
he stood up to survey the situation. The most difficult part would be getting
the crate up out of the cellar and onto the barn floor, a proposition made
especially difficult because of the weight of the lead shielding surrounding
the plutonium, and having to negotiate a steeply pitched and broken ladder.
"First, let's move this over to the base of the ladder. We should be able
to slide it across the floor." Four stout rope handles meant for lifting
protruded from the sides of the crate, two on each side. They cleared a path to
the ladder and then took hold of the ropes at one end and began to pull,
straining at first to overcome the inertia, but then sliding it with only
moderate difficulty across the compact earthen floor. At the base of the ladder
Larry looked up through the opening above and realized how they would lift their
heavy burden to the main floor of the barn. "Stay down here while I go
back up. There's a hoist near the top of the barn." He spoke as he moved,
returning to the pile of boxes and cartons, and carrying one back to the base
of the ladder where he set it down, a stepping stone to replace the bottom
steps. "You see them in almost all barns so bales of hay could be hauled
inside to cure. This one, though, is on a rail so it can travel directly over
this cellar, and is rigged with a block and tackle, no doubt to lower heavy
supplies and such or to lift them out. It looked intact." He stepped on
the box, then onto the first intact rung of the ladder, turning back to Eva
when he had taken hold of the rails. "If it is, we should be able to hoist
this baby out of here." He disappeared through the entrance and Eva heard
him moving around above.

She sat down on the gray crate and tried to remain patient,
a task that was doomed from the start. Her mind raced ahead to their next moves
and the instructions that Gerhard had given her for the exit from Germany once
the plutonium had been retrieved, a plan that, had Larry known it, would
obviate any need to worry about whether he would die from radiation poisoning
or from that cancer that ate away from within. She fiddled with the stout,
corded handles attached to the crate, then realized what it was she was sitting
on top of, and quickly stood up, backing away several paces.

"Heads up down there." A heavy rope snaked its way
down from above, the large wooden block and metal hook at the end bouncing from
one rung of the ladder to the next until it coiled up on the ground in front of
her. Larry followed it down the ladder, alighting next to her with a slight
genuflection of his injured leg. "This should do it. You'll probably have
to help me; the mechanical advantage isn't that great." He inspected the
lift handles of the crate, planting his feet firmly and pulling on each of them
in turn, assuring himself that they would take the weight of the load when they
hoisted it to the barn's main level. Placing the block at the end of the crate,
he placed the metal hook under one of the rope handles. "I'll go up again
and start taking in the slack. Stay here and make sure this remains in
position, and then give a holler when the crate starts to come off the ground.
I'll tie it off and wait till you climb up to help and we can both lift it out
of here." There was celerity in the way he spoke and the way he moved, an
urgency also felt by Eva; the feeling that compels one to look over their
shoulder, afraid that someone or something is closing in on them. Up the ladder
he went once more, and in minutes she heard the squeak of the pulleys and
watched as the rope slowly rose up like an inanimate cobra swaying to the
silent tune of an invisible flute.

"Halt!" One end of the container was suspended
about a foot in the air, swinging slightly from side to side, as Eva hopped up
on the box at the foot of the ladder and scampered up, anxious to reel in their
catch and be out of the gloom that surrounded them. Larry stood near one of the
supports, the rope belayed around it, the end held taught in his grip.

"Take hold of the rope as I unwind it and brace
yourself to take the weight." He slowly circled the support, working his
hands forward as the rope came loose so Eva could take hold of the freed end.
Together they pulled, leaning back and levering their weight to help. The noise
of the crate bouncing against the ladder as it slowly rose from the depths of
the cellar sounded above the squeak of the pulleys, and provided audible
evidence that progress was being made as the rope traveled its path from block
to block. They were both sweating by the time a dark shape began to emerge from
the entrance, slowly rotating from side to side as it was delivered from its
subterranean lair until it was held suspended over the opening, seemingly
helpless, although in its gray depths, under the stenciled swastika, it
contained the seeds of death for many thousands.

"Now what?" she said.

"Keep the rope taught and follow me." Larry backed
up and started to circle the thick support that held up the overhead loft,
playing out rope as needed until it was secured, and he could tie it off. Their
hands burned from the effort, blisters starting to well up, muscles cramping
and their chests heaving from the exertion. Pausing only to take a few deep
breaths and stretch his shoulders, Larry hurried to the dangling crate, fearful
that something would snap and it would crash to the floor far below. Taking
hold of the rope handle on one side, he called to Eva to grab the other side,
and together they tugged it away from the opening, the upper block and tackle
sliding reluctantly on the overhead rail until it was safely over the floor of
the barn. It took only a minute to release the tension on the rope and ease the
crate to the ground.

"Should we look inside?"

"Absolutely. Wouldn't we look stupid if we went through
everything we had to endure so far only to bring back a crate full of lead
weight? The crowbar's just outside the door; I'll be right back." Eva
started to sit on the crate but caught herself in time to straighten up before
she made contact. She wasn't really sure exactly what the danger was, but did
know that she had been told to keep her distance, especially when it had to be
uncrated for the final portion of the escape from Germany. Standing at what she
considered to be a respectful distance, hands on hips and impatiently tapping
one foot, she waited while Larry retrieved the crowbar and pried off the top,
the nails squealing as they were pulled free. Inside was a lead box, hand holds
at each corner and a series of six latch bolts securing the lid to the lower
part of the casing. He turned each of the latches and pulled off the top,
letting it rest crosswise across the top of the wooden crate while he thumbed
the flashlight on and inspected the contents. When the lid came away Eva
averted her eyes and instinctively held up her hand to shield her face, as if
she expected some bright death ray to emanate from within, but when the calm
twilight ambience of the barn remained unperturbed, she felt somewhat
embarrassed by her fear and took a few steps closer to look inside. Instincts
have stood our species in good stead over the millennia, but only for those
members that were smart enough to heed them. Eva didn't know that the aura of
death was often invisible and its scent unnoticed.

"Is it there?"

"It looks like we hit pay dirt."

Eva took another two steps closer and peered inside. What
she saw was not very impressive. Amid a filling of sawdust and curled wood
chips was a ball of silvery metal, about the size of a large grapefruit.

"I'm going to repack this, then we can use the car to
drag it to the door. That should be easier than trying to open the door wide
enough to get the car all the way into the barn. Back the car into place while
I get this ready."

Eva turned and walked to the door, squinting and blinking
several times as she emerged into the daylight, the sun low on the horizon but
still shining brightly as she made her way to the car and opened the door. At
first she thought her vision had been affected by the sudden radiance, for when
she looked up she saw another vehicle like theirs, parked almost alongside. She
blinked again before she noticed that one of Gerhard's aides stood by the car,
and as her eyes adjusted to the change in light she also saw, with horror, that
sitting in the back seat, hands bound behind her, was Maria. She continued
staring for several more seconds, the rage welling up, her knuckles white as
she tensely gripped the still open door. Grabbing her purse, she slammed the
door and walked around to the other side to face the uncomfortable appearing
sergeant. "What is the meaning of this?"

"It was getting too dangerous to keep her there."

Eva's voice rose as her anger grew. "You weren't
supposed to keep her there, you fucking idiot, you were supposed to get rid of
her. And in case you're too dumb to know what that means, it means you should
have killed her and dumped her body."

"But Fraulein, you don't realize what things are like
in the city now. Everyone knows that the Americans or Russians will soon be at
our doors. There may be reprisals."

"Jesus, I don't believe this. She's just a fucking slut
of a make pretend daughter of a dead general. No one cares anymore."

"It isn't that simple. Everyone is looking out for
themselves now, trying to have some kind of edge when the end comes. Perhaps if
I were to have some money, real money, not German Marks, I would be able to
make the proper arrangements." A question hung in the air, and they both
knew it, although it was only Eva that knew the answer.

"Oh, I understand now. It is only a matter of money,
merely a financial matter. Well, that makes it easier to understand."

"I'm glad you see it that way, Fraulein." A tenuous
smile appeared on his face when she opened her purse.

"What about her?" she said, motioning in Maria's
direction. The sergeant turned his head, following her glance, and started to
say something as he turned back, but didn't quite manage to get it out before
the first of two bullets ripped through his upper abdomen and a third tore into
his head, Eva delivering the coup d'etat as he slumped to the ground.

* *

Larry thought he heard voices coming from outside, but shrugged it
off as Eva simply resuming the song she had been singing under her breath while
she waited for him to open the crate, and so he continued his hurried
preparations to get their package ready. However, the sound of three revolver
shots was unmistakable. He ran to the door, snatching up the crowbar as he
went. As he dashed to Eva's side he did a quick appraisal —— one
man down, obviously dead, one woman tied in the back seat of a German staff car
and Eva holding the revolver in her hand, the smell of gunpowder still in the
air.

"What the hell happened here and who is she?"

"She was a former secretary to General Schroeder who
somehow got wind of what was going on. His aide, that disgusting man at your
feet, found her snooping around and beat her into telling him everything she
knew about the operation, which was more than he knew. Uncle Heinrich was smart
not to tell him all the details and the importance of what we are doing,
because when he realized the significance, after he forced it out of that slut,
he decided that he should blackmail us. I couldn't let him report us to the
authorities; I had to shoot him."

Larry scanned the distance, seeing no evidence that anyone
had heard the shots, and turned back to Eva. "We'll need to get rid of the
body, maybe just dump it somewhere along the way."

"Bodies. This bitch can't live either." She took a
step forward and opened the rear door, raising her gun as she moved, her thumb
sliding up toward the hammer.

"Whoa there," Larry exclaimed as he deftly and not
particularly gently, snatched the revolver from her hand, "No more
shooting for the moment."

"She is a slut, the worst kind, caring only for
herself; a threat to your mission and to both of us. We have to eliminate her
immediately," she shouted, venom in her voice and eyes.

He put the gun in his pocket and reached into the rear of
the car, removing the gag tied around Maria's face, keeping one hand free and
one eye on Eva. As soon as the tie was loosened Maria began talking loudly, her
fear adding a shrill timbre to her voice. "My name is Maria. I'm General
Schroeder's ward and that woman hit me and she kissed me and she slapped me
again and again and kicked me when I was on the floor. Oh, God, how could she
do that? Why did she kiss me? She must be a crazy woman." She said more,
but it was lost in the sobs that she could no longer hold at bay, her chest
heaving and tears filling her eyes. Her words broke over Larry like a tidal
wave, a physical force which caught him unaware.

"The whore will say anything to save herself; let's
shoot her before we have to listen to any more of these lies." Eva took a
step forward but Larry held up one arm to restrain her, the other grasping the
butt of the revolver in his pocket, Maria's words echoing in his mind, "My
name is Maria, General Schroeder's ward."

"Stand back." The revolver was out and at waist
level, pointing at the gap between the two women, the indeterminate aim an
indication of the uncertainty that had suddenly been intercalated. "You,
in the car, get out." He grabbed her arm and tugged, helping her slide out
of the car, her hands still bound behind her. "The two of you, into the
barn; march!"

Maria's fear was evident while Eva showed exasperation,
still playing the roll of the falsely accused. Larry cocked the trigger, merely
to add authority and gravity to his demand, then herded them both inside and
had them each sit on hay bales about two meters from each other, close enough
so it would take only a slight movement of the hand to switch aim from one to
the other. "Both of you just sit there and don't say anything." He
quietly eased the hammer forward until it settled into its resting position,
more secure and less prone to accidental discharge, and then began to pace back
and forth, never taking his eyes off of the two women. Which one was lying? It
wasn't that important to find out what the imposter intended to do; whatever it
was it was certain to be counter to the objective of the mission, but he did
need to know who, so they could be eliminated or neutralized. Two beautiful
women, one beautiful and sinister enemy.