Chapter 30

Revenge

October 1943
Gestapo Headquarters, Warsaw, Poland

 

Klaus sat at his cramped desk in the basement of the Szucha Street headquarters. He stared blankly at a line of names on a paper. They were possible black marketeers. A group of Poles who would end up with broken fingers or worse because they were trying to sell a little bacon or a piece of fruit on the street.

What difference did it make? He thought about the war. The newspaper and radio continued to declare victory after victory, but maps never lied. The cities named were getting closer and closer to Poland. In the west, the Germans had lost Africa, Sicily, and a chunk of Italy. The Italians, perhaps wiser than they were, had quit the war. Nobody would talk about the obvious truth: they were losing.

What was going to happen to them? He’d already sent his wife and child back to their hometown. He couldn’t afford to keep them here any longer anyway, on his reduced salary. He’d lost his position, his friend, and he feared he would lose far more than that before this was done.

There was a knock at the door. A guard was standing in the doorway. “The colonel wants to see you.”

He sighed, nodding without a response. He stood, brushed himself off, and walked up the multiple flights of stairs to the commander’s office. His old office. He entered the room. Colonel Wagner was there shuffling some papers. He cleared his throat, but the commander did not look up for several minutes. Finally, he set the papers aside and motioned for Klaus to have a seat.

“Well, Rein, I’ve been reviewing your performance these past few months. I told the governor when I took over that I thought it was a mistake to keep you on at all, but he insisted that you still had value to us. I believe he was wrong.” The colonel traced his finger down a page. “Fourteen arrests in all these months? What have you been doing? Picking your arse?”

“You took me off egota,” said Klaus. “That’s what I had put my resources into. There was a certain amount of time needed to get up to speed on my new, and important, targets. By the way,” he said, leaning forward. “How is the hunt for egota going?” He knew the answer and relished the response.

The colonel’s face flushed. “We’re making progress,” he responded finally.

“I’m sure you are, Colonel. It’s not as easy when you’re in charge, is it?”

“You worry about your assignments and I’ll worry about mine,” the colonel snapped.

“Of course,” said Klaus. “Is that all?”

“Yes,” said the colonel, waving his hand and returning to his paperwork. “You’re dismissed.”

Klaus stormed out of the office. The bastard, he thought. He’d been after my job the whole time. Now that he has it, he’s not getting a damned thing done. Klaus had been so close to cracking the egota group wide open. After Peter’s death, he’d tripled the number of men investigating the resistance group. Then word had come down from the governor that he was relieved from his command and demoted in rank. He still remembered the triumphal entrance of the colonel and his followers.

Klaus returned to his office. His one assistant was there, crammed into a seat between the wall and Klaus’s metal desk. He had a look of excitement on his face.

“What is it?” Klaus asked.

“We’ve caught the informant,” he said.

“Which one?” Klaus asked, bored already with the discussion.

“The egota one. The big one.”

Klaus couldn’t believe it. “Where are they?” he asked.

“In a cell less than fifty meters from here.”

“Let’s go!” He turned and, with the assistant right behind him, he stormed down the corridor.

A half hour later he was back in the colonel’s office, laying out his information.

“You obtained all this in the past half hour?” the colonel asked. “How reliable is this person?”

“They’ve been entirely reliable in the past.”

The colonel shook his head. “Well, give me what you have, and I’ll look into it.”

Klaus couldn’t believe his ears. “You’re taking this away from me?”

“You’re not on egota. You know that. Thank you for the information. Please get back to work and I’ll look into this—if we have time.”

“But, sir. We have everything we need. We can move instantly. I can be ready in an hour.”

The colonel’s face flushed red. “Was I unclear, Rein? You don’t have any authority here anymore. Now get out of my office and for once try to do your job. And let me tell you something else. This is going in my report along with a recommendation that you be relieved of all duties and sent back to Germany.”

“Do what you will, Colonel,” said Klaus, turning to leave.

“I didn’t tell you you’re dismissed.”

Klaus turned, staring into the colonel’s eyes.

The colonel returned the look for long moments, but then glanced down at his documents. “That’s all.”

Klaus left and returned to his office. He sat at his desk for a long time, fuming. His assistant returned and he passed on the news.

“What are you going to do?” the agent asked.

“I’m going forward, without orders.” He looked at the young man. “If you don’t want to be involved, I understand.”

His assistant hesitated for a few moments, then nodded. “No, sir. I’m with you.”

“Good,” said Klaus. “Then here’s what we are going to do.”

* * *

Irena walked with Adam and Rami in the gardens near the Vistula. They were taking a little bit of a risk. Adam had Jewish features and they might be stopped at any point. But they had their papers with them, and the documents were flawless.

She couldn’t resist. The day had dawned beautiful, with the sun rising above the buildings into a clear blue sky. The air was crisp but not cold, and there was a rich warmth emanating from the direct sunshine. Irena strolled between them, holding Adam’s hand with her left and Rami’s with her right.

“We have much to be thankful for,” Adam said.

He was right. They were alive. Their operation was still thriving. There were no more children to rescue, but they were keeping twenty-five hundred little ones throughout the city. egota paid vast sums of zlotys per month for food and support of these families. Adam, ever the intellect, kept the books, and made sure the resources were allocated and that each payment was precisely accounted for.

Better yet, the end of the war was on the horizon. The Germans did their best to hide the truth, but the rumors came through from many sources. The Nazis were falling back in Russia and in Europe. They’d lost a terrible battle at Stalingrad and another massive engagement at Kursk. The Soviets had started another offensive and were threatening to drive their enemy entirely out of Russia. Poland would not be far beyond.

“What will we do when it’s all over?” she asked.

“We will live,” he said simply.

“What about us? You and me?”

He stopped and looked at her. “That is up to you, my dear. The Germans have taken care of my marriage. But yours is still intact.”

“I will remedy that,” she said. “If you want me to.”

He smiled. “Of course, I do. We will marry one day, and then we will build our socialist Poland. The fascists and the capitalists will be driven out of our nation, and the people will rise under Russian tutelage and carve out a workers’ and farmers’ nation, devoted to the people.”

“What if the Germans stop them?” she asked. “What if they turn things around and win?”

He shook his head. “I don’t think they have it in them. Look at our own city. They’ve pulled half the soldiers out and sent them to fight. When is the last time you saw a tank or an airplane? I think they’re scraping the bottom of the barrel now.”

“I hope you’re right,” she said. She looked around. They had to be careful discussing this in public. “Let’s hope and pray that this is the end.”

“Pray?” he asked, laughing. “Don’t talk about praying when the Russians get here. You need to repress your Catholic background, or you’ll get yourself in trouble.”

Rami had stood quietly this whole time. “What about my mother?” she asked. “My father?”

“Your dad has been in the woods this whole time,” Irena explained again. “He should be back when the fighting is over.” She hoped this was true. “For your mother, I hope she will be too.” This was a lie. She knew what had happened to Ala. Julian’s inside person had told them, along with the planned ambush. Thus Peter. She hated to tell Rami this, but she had not been able to bring herself to share the truth yet. She hoped when the war was over that Rami’s father would reappear. Then she could bear to tell her about her mother.

Adam frowned. He didn’t approve of this. He thought they should tell her now. “Let’s go,” said Irena, starting to walk again. This was certainly not the place to have that argument again.

They continued their stroll, enjoying the trees and the bushes. The garden was not as beautiful as it was in the spring and summer, but just the opportunity to walk here as if the war had never happened was a wonderful salve to their spirits.

They returned to Maria’s an hour later. Her friend was there, setting out some bread and cheese for an afternoon meal. They sat around the table, sipping a little vodka, laughing and teasing each other. Even Maria joined in. At the end of the meal Irena rose to leave.

“Why can’t you stay?” Rami asked.

“I have to look in on my mother,” she responded.

“Wouldn’t she be all right for a day?” Adam asked. “You could spend the night?” He winked at her and she felt the warmth inside her. Perhaps she could spend the night here and check in on her mother in the morning. No, she’d come down with a cold and Irena wanted to look in on her to make sure she was all right.

“Tomorrow night,” she promised. “As long as she’s on the mend.”

“Fine,” said Adam, pretending he was offended. “I’ll just stay here with the other women in my life.” He made a playful grab at Maria’s arm. She slapped him away.

“Stop that nonsense,” she protested.

“Well,” said Irena, checking her watch. “I’m off.”

Adam rose and walked her to the door. He unlatched it and they stepped outside. “Are you sure you can’t stay?” he whispered, kissing her neck. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

She moved in closer, putting her arms around him and reaching up to kiss him on the lips. “I’d love to,” she said, still struggling with the decision. “But I have to go check on her.”

He kissed her back, holding her tight. “Did you mean what you said today?”

“About what?” she asked.

“About the divorce. The marriage.”

She looked up at him intently. “I wouldn’t want anything else more in the world.”

He smiled, kissing her again on the forehead. “Go to your mother and hurry back tomorrow. You’ve promised me a night together and I intend to collect on it.”

She kissed him again and left. She had a long walk ahead of her. She hardly noticed the passing of the streets and time as she headed back to her apartment. She fantasized about the end of the war. A flat of their own. Children. They would both return to meaningful work, her in social work for the new Polish socialist regime, and Adam as an attorney, or working for the government. She thought about the day, perhaps not too far in the future now, when the Germans would evacuate Warsaw. She smiled to herself. There was a future now. Something to live for after all this struggle and death.

She arrived at her building and hurried up to the apartment. She opened the door and immediately knew that something was wrong. She called for her mother but there was no answer. She rushed to the bedroom. She was there, in bed, but she wasn’t answering. Her hair and forehead were soaking wet. Irena touched her head. She was on fire.

“Mother!” she called. “Mother, can you hear me?”

Her mother’s face tensed, and she opened her mouth, as if she had heard her and was trying to respond. But the words would not form in her mouth. Irena rushed to the kitchen sink, pouring water into a cup. She brought the water in and tried to pour some of the liquid down her mother’s throat, a few drops at a time. Her mother sputtered and coughed. Her eyes opened wide, but she stared past Irena as if she didn’t see her.

“Don’t worry, Mother, I’m going to get you some help.” Irena turned and rushed toward the door.

Halfway across the threshold the door ripped open. Torn nearly off its hinges, the door buckled at an odd angle. She screamed. There were men there. Soldiers and two young men in long leather trench coats. They rushed forward and seized her arms.

“My mother!” she screamed. “My mother is sick! She needs my help.”

One of the men held a cloth to her mouth. “Don’t worry about your mother,” he said. “Worry about yourself.”

She struggled against the rag, barely able to breathe. She felt dizzy and the lights above her shrunk down as if she were in a tunnel. She felt herself falling forward and the hands seized her harder. She fell into darkness and remembered no more.