The agent’s head fell forward. He was dead.
22
They sped north on the Paris highway as the late-afternoon sun washed the countryside with rays of orange and cold yellow. The winter sun was the same everywhere: It was a constant. And Holcroft was grateful for it.
Code Wolfsschanze. It’s Wolfsschanze.
Peter Baldwin had known about Geneva. He had tried to tell MI Five, but the doubters in British Intelligence had not believed him.
He was trading off nothing!
What was he trading for?
What was the bargain he sought? Who was Peter Baldwin?
Who had been Peter Baldwin?
Who was Von Tiebolt … Tennyson?
If Von Tiebolt’s not the Tinamou, what is he? Why was his man shot? Why did they try to take her? Kill you?
Why?
At least one problem was put to rest: John Tennyson was not the Tinamou. Whatever else the son of Wilhelm von Tiebolt was—and it might well be dangerous to Geneva—he was not the assassin. But then, who was he? What had he done to become involved with killers? Why were men after him—and, by extension, his sister?
The questions kept Noel’s mind from dwelling on the last hours. He could not think about them; he would explode if he did. Three men killed—one by him. Killed by gunfire in the back street of a remote French village during a carnival. Madness.
«What do you think ‘Wolfsschanze’ stands for?» asked Helden.
«I know what it stands for,» he said.
She turned, surprised.
He told her—everything he knew about the survivors of Wolfsschanze. There was no point in concealing facts now. When he had finished, she was silent. He wondered if he had pushed her too far. Into a conflict she wanted no part of. She had said to him only a few days ago that if he did not do as she instructed, if he was not who he said he was, she would leave Paris and he would never find her. Would she do that now? Was the threat of Wolfsschanze the final burden she could not accept?
«Are you afraid?» he asked.
«That’s a foolish question.»
«I think you know what I mean.»
«Yes.» She leaned her head back on the seat. «You want to know if I’ll run away.»
«I guess that’s it. Will you?»
She did not reply for several moments; nor did he press her. When she spoke, there was the echoing sadness in her voice—so like her sister’s and yet so different. «I can’t run away any more than you can. Morality and fear aside, it’s simply not practical, is it? They’d find us. They’d kill us.»
«That’s pretty final.»
«It’s realistic. Besides, I’m tired of running. I have no energy left for it. The Rache, the ODESSA, now Wolfsschanze. Three hunters who stalk each other as well as us. It’s got to end. Herr Oberst is right about that.»
«I came to the same conclusion yesterday afternoon. It occurred to me that if it weren’t for my mother, I’d be running with you.»
«Heinrich Clausen’s son,» said Helden reflectively.
«And someone else’s.» He returned her look. «Do we agree? We don’t get in touch with this Payton-Jones?»
«We agree.»
«MI Five’ll look for us. They have no choice. They had a man on us; they’ll find out he was killed. There’ll be questions.»
«Which we can’t answer. We were followed; we did not follow.»
«I wonder who they were? The two men,» he said.
«The Rache, I would think. It’s their style.»
«Or the ODESSA.»
«Possibly. But the German spoken by the one who took me was odd. The dialect wasn’t recognizable. He was not a Münchner, and certainly not a Berliner. It was strange.»
«How do you mean?»
«It was very guttural, but still soft, if that makes sense.»
«Not too much. Then you think they were from the Rache?»
«Does it matter? We’ve got to protect ourselves from both. Nothing has changed. At least, not for me.» She reached over and touched his arm. «I’m sorry for you, though.»
«Why?»
«Because now you are running with us. You’re one of the children now—die verwünschte Kinder. The damned. And you’ve had no training.»
«It seems to me I’m getting it in a hurry.»
She withdrew her hand. «You should go to Berlin.»
«I know. We’ve got to move quickly. Kessler has to be reached and brought in; he’s the last of the»—Holcroft paused—«the issue.»
She smiled sadly at the word. «There’s you and my brother; you’re both knowledgeable, both ready to move, Kessler must be made ready, too… Zurich is the issue. And the solution to so much.»
Noel glanced at her. It did not take much to perceive what she was thinking. Zurich meant resources beyond imagination; surely a part of them would be used to curb, if not eliminate, the fanatics of the ODESSA and the Rache. Holcroft knew that she knew he had witnessed their horrors for himself; a one-third vote was hers for the asking. Her brother would agree.
«We’ll make Zurich work,» he said. «You can stop running soon. We can all stop.»
She looked at him pensively. Then she moved over on the seat next to him and put her hand through his arm and held it. She laid her head on his shoulder, her long blond hair falling over his jacket.
«I called for you and you came to me,» she said in her odd, floating voice. «We nearly died this afternoon. A man gave his life for us.»
«He was a professional,» replied Noel. «Our lives may have been incidental to him. He was after information, after a man he thought could give it to him.»
«I know that. I’ve seen such men before, such professionals. But at the last, he was decent; many aren’t. They sacrifice others too easily in the name of professionalism.»
«What do you mean?»
«You’re not trained; you would have done as he told you. You could have been used for bait, to draw fire. It would have been easier for him to let you take the bullets, and then me. I wasn’t important to him. In the confusion he might have saved his own life and gotten his man. But he saved us.»
«Where shall we go in Paris?»
«Not Paris,» said Helden. «Argenteuil. There’s a small hotel on the river. It’s lovely.»
Noel raised his left hand from the wheel and let it fall on the hair that cascaded down his jacket. «You’re lovely,» he said.
«I’m frightened. The fear has to go away.»
«Argenteuil?» he mused. «A small hotel in Argenteuil. You seem to know a lot of places for someone who’s been in France for only a few months.»
«You have to know where they don’t ask questions. You’re taught quickly; you learn quickly. Take the Billancourt exit. Please hurry.»
Their room overlooked the Seine, with a small balcony beyond the glass doors directly above the river. They stood for a few minutes in the night air, his arm around her, both of them looking down at the dark waters. Neither spoke; comfort was in their touch.
There was a knock on the door. Helden tensed; he smiled and reassured her.
«Relax. While you were washing up I ordered a bottle of brandy.»
She returned his smile and breathed again. «You should really let me do that. Your French is quite impossible.»
«I can say ‘Remy Martin,’» he said, releasing her. «Where I went to school it was the first thing we learned.» He went inside toward the door.
Holcroft took the tray from the waiter and stood for a moment watching Helden. She had closed the doors to the balcony and was staring out the windows at the night sky. She was a private woman, a lonely woman, and she was reaching out to him. He understood that.