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By
Helen Haught Fanick
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CHAPTER ONE
Even though the night was moonless, Anton Janak could see that the parachute wasn’t going to open. The woman didn’t scream; the only sound was the fading drone of the unidentifiable plane as it headed back to England. He could see by the light of the torches outlining the field that she was working with the cords of the chute. His contact had told him she was cool under pressure, probably to silence his complaints about working with a woman, and he felt a twinge of embarrassment that his heart felt as if it were pounding a hole in his chest. There was nothing he and the others could do but stand and watch as she plummeted toward the ground.
He had warned his contact about the giant oak in the middle of the field. Now it might be her salvation. She had the chute partially open and seemed to be maneuvering toward the tree.
“She’s going to land in the tree,” Jan murmured. “God help her.” He crossed himself.
They ran toward the tree just as the woman crashed through the upper foliage and disappeared to the sound of splintering branches. Anton looked up into the tree and could see her slumped in a fork amid a tangle of cord and torn parachute.
“Get the blanket out of the back of the car. I’ll get her down.” Anton grabbed the lowest branch and pulled himself up so that his feet were on the limb and he was reaching higher, beginning to climb. He reached the woman and felt for a pulse. “She’s unconscious, but she’s still alive.”
He took a knife from his pocket and began cutting the harness and tangled cords. Her left leg dangled at a strange angle, and he was sure it was broken, but regardless, he had to get her out of the tree. He began lowering her as gently as possible, going down one limb at a time, until she was low enough for the others to reach her.
“I think her left leg’s broken. Hold it steady and lay her on the blanket till I can get the chute out of the tree. We can’t leave it here. Jakub, take your shirt off and try to stop the bleeding from her right leg and her stomach. I can see it seeping through the jump suit. You’ll have to undo both the zippers to get her out of the suit. Take her helmet off, too. When you’ve stopped the bleeding, wrap the blanket around her. She’s undoubtedly in shock.”
Anton cut and ripped until he had freed the parachute from the grasping twigs. He dropped it to the ground, and then shined his flashlight around in the tree to see if he’d missed anything. He descended to the lowest limb and swung down. At that moment they heard a plane in the distance.
“The torches!” Jakub said, and they rushed to the car for the water in the trunk. They quickly doused the four blazes, threw the wet torches into the woods, and ran to hide under the tree till the plane was gone.
“I don’t think they saw anything,” Jan said. He was gathering up the shredded parachute, checking with his flashlight to make sure no trace was left on the ground. He shined the light up into the tree. “Do you suppose a pilot flying overhead in daylight could see that something fell into the tree and broke the branches?”
Anton was kneeling beside the woman. “I hope not. Maybe they’ll think lightning hit it. We have to get her into the car. Let’s lay her out on the backseat. The bleeding’s under control for now, but it may start up again when we move her.”
“I’ll walk home from here,” Jan said. “It’s not that far.”
“That’s okay, you can ride. I’ll have to get in the back with her to make sure she doesn’t start bleeding again.”
“Where are we going to take her?” Jakub asked. “We can’t take her into town like this.”
“We could say she was hit by a car when she was riding her bicycle,” Jan said.
Anton shook his head. “I don’t think that’s going to work. She wouldn’t be out riding her bike in the middle of the night. Then, too, these gashes don’t look like they were made by being hit by a car, and if we’re stopped, it could mean disaster.” He looked at Jan. “I don’t suppose we could—”
Jan looked at the ground. “No. My parents wouldn’t agree to have her there. I’m sorry, but they’re scared to death all the time.”
Anton nodded. “I understand. Everybody’s afraid. But we have to do something. I’m thinking that abandoned farm down near the highway is the only choice. The house is boarded up tight, and someone might notice if we broke in, but there’s the barn. It’s standing wide open. I checked it out the other day for possible use in emergencies. She’ll only be there long enough for us to get her patched up. Then we’ll move her into town.”
“What if she wakes up there in the barn? She won’t know where she is. Who knows if she’ll remember anything?”
“I’ll have to stay with her,” Anton said. “There’s no other way.”
Jakub smirked. “That’s not going to make her highness happy.”
Anton stood up, and Jakub backed away, holding out his hands up in a placating gesture. “I was just kidding. Take it easy.”
“This is serious,” Anton said. “The whole operation is in jeopardy because of a parachute failing to open, and you’re making jokes.”
Jakub didn’t say anything for a minute, and then leaned over toward the woman. “What did you say her name is?”
“Tereza Valentova. Let’s get her to the car.”
The ancient Citroen Rosalie sedan was parked where the dirt road ended at the edge of the field. It had been yellow with black fenders, and had sat in his Teta Adelka’s garage for years, taken out only for church on Sunday and an occasional shopping trip. She had protested, but not too strongly, when Anton took over the car, promising to show up on Sundays to take her to church and to be available when she needed to go shopping. He bought black house paint and a brush and covered the yellow with black, also promising to return the car to its original yellow when the war was over.
Adelka Janakova was his father’s older sister. Anton knew she never forgave the Germans for the death of her brother, his father, who died of a heart attack on the day the Nazis invaded Czechoslovakia. Anton didn’t explain why he needed the car, but he was sure she had her suspicions and that part of her applauded. The other part undoubtedly worried about his safety.
