She was losing it. Tears washed her eyes. “Sorry. It was a stupid attempt at humor.”
“You don’t do anything stupidly” she croaked. “If you did, you might be halfway human.”
“That’s harsh.”
“You force good decent people…” she wanted to say friends, but in truth, none of them were his friends “…into this hell?”
“Is trying to save our people wrong? Is it not worth a sacrifice?”
“’Our people’ are already dead. They died seventy years ago. You are saving ghosts.”
“This world is real Andrea. It’s not full of ghosts—it’s full of living, breathing men, women and children who are going to die—die horribly—unless we can help them.”
“You’re crazy.”
“You know that I’m right. This is a real world, as real as our time, as real as the world described in this book” he said, tossing the paperback on the ground. “It doesn’t matter what I’ve done. What matters is that we are here now.”
“I want to go home. So do the soldiers. They won’t put up with you forever.”
“The soldiers will come along. They know their duty when they can see it with their own eyes. It’s you who are blind.”
She ignored his sophistry. “Tell me how I can bring them home. I’ll talk with Yatom. Perhaps he’ll let me return to the capsule. If you help me maybe I can establish a link through the tachyon transmitter.”
“I already have an agreement with Yatom. After the sayeret takes Treblinka and Belzac I’ll assist you personally.”
“Why not let me start now?” Perchensky persisted. “What harm could it do—or do you think I’ll figure things out for myself?”
“No you won’t” he said. “Not because you are not brilliant, but I’m not lying when I say that I don’t know whether we can reestablish communication with Dimona. Frankly, like I told Yatom, I doubt it.”
“Tell me where to start” she begged.
“Yatom won’t allow you to return alone to the capsule anyway. And he can’t spare that big American you’re enamored with as an escort.”
“Bastard!” she screamed while she kicked dirt at him with her foot.
As she stalked away, Yatom called an orders group, not only for the officers, and Perchensky and Feldhandler, but the three assistant team leaders, Nir, Itzach and Chaim. Yatom knew that they had been lucky so far, but that luck wouldn’t hold forever. In the event that officers were killed or injured he wanted the assistant team leaders to be ready to carry on.
They met at Yatom’s car, parked amid oak branches and brambles. Yatom took out his map and traced the route to Treblinka.
The sayeret was only about sixty kilometers away if they stayed on the high roads. Barring serious difficulties Yatom guessed that they would reach the target within twenty four hours. Yatom doubted that all the vehicles could finish the journey if they strayed off the good roads and he wanted to take the most direct route. The high roads offered a relatively straight shot to the death camp, unless the maps were wrong. “Anybody disagree?” asked Yatom. “No” said Mofaz, answering for the group. “Let’s get this over with.” Neither Shapira nor the sayeret sergeants were inclined to question Yatom and Mofaz.
Feldhandler didn’t object. Perchansky, noted Shapira, appeared distant again, and seemed not to care.
“Good” said Yatom. We leave before dawn tomorrow. The route is fairly straightforward. We might arrive before midday. With luck, we’ll be able to hide out nearby and strike tomorrow night.”
“I doubt we’ll have a free ride all the way tomorrow during the day” said Feldhandler, adding quickly “but I agree we should attempt it. I’m only saying we should expect trouble.”
“That’s why the sergeants are here. In case we all don’t make it to the target. Any other questions or suggestions” Yatom asked in a voice that didn’t really invite further comment.
“I don’t see the point of my tagging along firrther on this little adventure” said Perchensky suddenly and venomously. “You won’t let me fight, and frankly I’m not good at it anyway. I can’t hit a thing with this” she continued, patting the Uzi slung from her shoulder. “Let me make my way back to the capsule. At least there I can work on getting us home—or see if it’s possible.” Then staring directly at Feldhandler she added “I don’t trust him. I want to work on the problem myself.”
“That’s a good idea” said Mofaz quickly, throwing a vicious look in the direction of Feldhandler.
Yatom, stonefaced, turned to Shapira. “Ron, what do you think?”
The lieutenant looked at Perchensky with some surprise, laced with a hint of either desire or admiration, Yatom could not be sure.
“You can’t go alone” Shapira told Perchensky. “And we can’t afford to detach somebody to escort you. Not yet anyway.”
“I agree” said Yatom. “Once Treblinka is reduced we will head back south anyway. That will be tomorrow God willing” he said with an ironic smile. Everybody knew Yatom was an ardent atheist. Mofaz shrugged exhaustedly and fiddled with his kippa. Perchensky crossed her arms.
“Anything else?”
“Yes” persisted Perchensky, eliciting a groan from Feldhandler and disconcerted looks from the sergeants who were anxious to finish their tasks in the bivouac and get to sleep. Yatom gestured for her to continue.
“I still do not understand the point of all this. We are playing a game for his benefit” she said pointing at Feldhandler, who leaned nonchalantly against the car. “We haven’t explored whether this makes any sense at all—whether we are doing any good, or effectively destroying the world we left behind!”
“I think we’ve been through this Andrea” said Feldhandler.
“No, we have not. You put us in an impossible situation and dictated a deal for which, as best I can see, there is no reward.”
“We are fighting the Nazis!” said Feldhandler excitedly. “What on earth are you saying?”
“I’m saying that we have no business here—righting wrongs that have already happened nearly a hundred years in the past. We should return to the capsule and do what we can to get home. If you won’t help I’ll do it myself.”
“Can you?” said Mofaz with an uncharacteristic hint of weakness.
“No, she can’t” said Feldhandler. “She’s wasting your time—and mine.” Without waiting for a reply the scientist walked off.
“Well” said Yatom. “Can you?”
“I don’t know” said Perchensky, with a sob. “I want to go home.”
“We all do” said Yatom, looking especially hard at Mofaz and his sergeants. “But you are not telling me anything new.”
Perchensky didn’t answer. Yatom turned from her, and addressed his men. “Okay, we are soldiers. Anybody have a problem with taking this place tomorrow?” he asked, jabbing at the map with a thick, dirty finger that landed on Treblinka. Nobody protested. “Then let’s get some rest.”
Chapter 20
Reinhardt Heydrich had planned, as usual, to drive himself home in his personal green Mercedes It was a point pride that he drove at his pleasure and alone within his little Bohemian empire, pretending no concern for his personal safety. Though he routinely traveled about without guards, Heydrich was cautious, and always went about armed. He was an inviting target, and he knew that a least a few partisans were about the cities and countryside of the conquered Czech nation.
But this very boldness added to his reputation as a man of action. His fearless reputation encompassed his own headquarters, and within the wider Reich bureaucracy itself. How different than Himmler he was! Himmler—who Heydrich had it on good authority—had become sickened when a bit of Jewish brain splashed upon him during a mass execution in the east, and would never take such risks—or demonstrate such sangfroid.