Chapter Two

Evelyn looked up as Jean-Pierre walked into the living room. She was seated at the small writing table near the window, composing a short message for Jens to transmit to Bill acknowledging the new instructions.

“Jens is having a bath,” he said, walking over to the sideboard and opening a cigarette box. “He’s considering staying here with me. He’ll decide while he’s washing so you will know how to respond to your superior.”

“Will you really train him and provide a whole new identity?” she asked, turning in her chair to look across the room at him.

“Because I can use a skilled radio operator, and if France does fall, he will be invaluable.”

“Despite the fact that the Germans are obviously aware of his existence and presence here in France?” she asked, standing and crossing the room to accept a proffered cigarette.

“Tell me, how do you think they became aware of his location?” he asked, lighting her cigarette for her before turning the match to his own.

“I haven’t the faintest idea. I’m still trying to wrap my head around the fact that they are. I was certain they had been following me.”

“And they may well have been. We can’t dismiss that possibility.” Jean-Pierre blew smoke up towards the ceiling and turned to go over to the sofa, seating himself. “There were too many reports of an SS agent on the trail of the courier to simply ignore them. Do you want to know what I think?”

“What?” Evelyn crossed over to stand near the window, glancing out into the late morning sun.

“I think there were two agents in Marle, but I don’t think they were necessarily together. If they were, they both would have been seen, and yet only one was noticed by the villagers.”

“Precisely. I had a description from the butcher, and it was different from the man who came to my house looking for the two of you.” He crossed his legs and looked across the room at her. “As bizarre as it sounds, I think the agent was on your trail and the mysterious man who came to my door was looking for our friend Jens.”

Something close to a chill went through Evelyn and she lifted her cigarette to her lips.

“That’s the big question, isn’t it?” Jean-Pierre tapped ash into the glass tray on the table at his elbow. “Whoever they were, they’re both gone now. They’ve undoubtedly gone back to Germany now that they lost your trail.”

Evelyn turned her attention out the window, her lips tightening. Who was the tall man who had chased them down the alley beside Ash’s house? If he wasn’t part of the SS then who was he? Another chill went through her and her mind went back to a cold and snowy mountainside in Norway. She had been huddled behind a bush in the darkness the first time she heard the name of the assassin who tracked her through the mountains on her way to Namsos.

Almost as soon as the thought came into her head, she frowned and dismissed it. What interest could the infamous German assassin possibly have in Jens Bernard? If everything she’d learned about the Iron Hunter was true, he was only sent after high value targets. Targets like herself, although why they thought she was high value was also a mystery.

“What if they haven’t?” Evelyn turned to walk over to the sofa. “What if they’re still in France?”

“Then the sooner you get back to England, the better.” He watched as she sat beside him. “You are going back, are you not?”

“If he decides to stay and work with us, I’ll see to his safety,” he assured her. “And even if he doesn’t, I’ll make sure he’s kept hidden until you can get him to England.”

“Let me worry about that.” He stubbed out his cigarette and shot her a small smile. “You just concern yourself with getting that packet you’re carrying safely to London, or everything that we did in Marle will be for nothing.”

15th May, 1940

Dear Evelyn,

How are you? It feels like an age since I’ve seen you, even though it’s only been a few weeks. We’ve been busy here, up flying every day, and I still haven’t seen hide nor hair of a Jerry. A couple of the chaps saw some action on Monday, lucky blighters. They bagged themselves a Junkers, if you can believe that. Your brother dearest and yours truly were up over a different location at the time and had no such luck. But at least we know they’re out there, and any day I’ll get my chance. I don’t mind telling you, because I know you’ll understand, that I can’t wait to finally see some real fighting. I feel as though I’m just coasting through this war while our BEF is left holding the bag.

When you next hear from me, I shall be writing from a new station. I can’t tell you where, but I’ll say that it will put me further away from you. We’ll be joined by another squadron of Spits, 19 Squadron. I’ll miss this place. The CO says that we’re going to a new station, with brand new buildings and the like. It’s meant to be for the bombers, but we’ll be staying there for a bit. I think they’re going to move us somewhere again, but the CO is keeping mum about it. Why else stick us on a bomber station that was just finished if it isn’t temporary?

All of this means, of course, that our stolen hours in London or in pubs between our stations will become more difficult. We’ll have to wait for a proper leave and, with the way Hitler is moving through the Low Countries, time off will be harder to come by. I’ll miss seeing you somewhat regularly. Will you miss me?

Rob was trying to get hold of you earlier to tell you the news, but he wasn’t able to get through. Are you off on one of your training stints again? If so, you barely had time to get your bag unpacked from the last one. I hope that’s not the case, for your sake.

Well, I’m for my bed. I have an early flight tomorrow. Another patrol. Will tomorrow be the day I finally catch sight of some Jerries? One can only hope.

Always yours,

FO Miles Lacey

Evelyn set her case down near the door and turned to hold her hands out to Jens.

“You promise me that you will take care of yourself,” she said, grasping his hands. “We didn’t make it all the way from Brussels just so that you could go getting yourself caught here in France.”

Jens grinned and leaned down to accept a kiss on each cheek from her. “I can’t promise that I won’t ever get caught, but I do promise to take care of myself.” He straightened up and smiled down at her, his eyes warm. “You understand, don’t you? Why I’ve decided to remain here and not go to England?”

She smiled and squeezed his hands before releasing them. “Of course I do. I’m glad you’ll be in good hands.” She turned to hold her hand out to Jean-Pierre, meeting his gray eyes. “Thank you.”

“There’s nothing to thank,” he replied with an easy smile, grasping her hand. “I’m happy to have him, and it was a pleasure to work with you, even if it was briefly. Josephine thinks highly of you, and that’s quite a recommendation, I assure you. She doesn’t like anyone, or so I’m told. How will you go to Calais?”

“I’m taking the train.” Evelyn released his hand and bent to pick up her suitcase. “Or at least, I will if I don’t miss it.”

She nodded and turned for the door, then hesitated. Turning back, she looked at Jens.

“You’ll let me know where you are?” she asked suddenly. “Once you’re settled?”

She nodded. “I would, thank you.” She hesitated again, then looked at him squarely. “If you ever change your mind, you know you can contact me and I’ll do what I can to get you to England. I owe you that much for getting me out of Belgium.”

Jens nodded and smiled at her. “I know. I’ll be fine, though. I did give it quite a bit of thought, and this is where I belong. You just worry about getting to England safely. I’ll send a message once I’m settled somewhere.”

“Thank you.” Evelyn looked at Jean-Pierre and smiled. “Take care of yourselves, both of you.”

“We will. Now go, or you will be in danger of missing your train!” Jean-Pierre said with a laugh, reaching around her to open the door. “May God go with you, my friend.”

Evelyn went through the door and walked towards the marble staircase leading down to the foyer. Reaching the top of the stairs, she glanced back over her shoulder to find Jean-Pierre watching from the door of his apartment. Seeing her look, he smiled and lifted his hand in farewell. Evelyn smiled back and started down the stairs with a heavy heart. She had only known Jens for a little over a week, and Jean-Pierre only a few hours, really, yet she felt as if she was leaving dear friends behind. The heavy feeling of sadness was compounded by the knowledge that she had lied to both of them. She wasn’t going to Calais, but to an airfield, and then to Switzerland. She was continuing her search for answers to a riddle her father had left behind, while they were going to stay and face the grim reality of a war that none of them wanted.

The sun was shining brightly over the countryside and a soft breeze blew across the field, brushing against the woman’s face as she stood at a fence and stared out over the expanse of farmland. It was hard to imagine that such a perfect day wasn’t as tranquil and perfect just over the border in Belgium. The same breeze that carried the fresh, clean scent of earth and flowers to her carried the acrid stench of smoke and death to others.

The sobering thought brought a crease to Josephine Rousseau’s forehead and she turned away from the fence and started back towards the farmhouse. Marc should have some news by now on what progress was being made by the French and English armies, if any. He had been busy on his wireless radio all morning, checking in with others along the borders with Belgium and Germany. She shook her head as she walked through the small kitchen garden to the back door. That radio had turned out to be their best source of information over the past few days. With the chaos across the border, they had been unable to get intelligence from their usual sources, instead relying on what they could decipher from the jumbled and chaotic transmissions Marc was sent from other agents throughout France. Their entire system was rapidly breaking down, and Josephine was very much afraid that in a few more days, they would be deaf and blind, cut off from the intelligence they were trying to get to Paris. If that were to happen, they would be helpless and forced to reevaluate their position. Their superiors wanted them to stay and gather what information they could, but remaining in the face of an invasion without the benefit of gaining actionable intelligence would be the height of foolishness. Better to withdraw, reevaluate, and live to see another day.

Josephine opened the back door and went into the kitchen, pulling her hat off her head and tossing it onto the old table where the remains of their breakfast still lay. She would clear it up, then go find Marc and see what he’d learned. As she began to gather the empty plates and coffee cups, a shiver of dread went through her, bringing a scowl to her face. In the two years that she’d been gathering intelligence for the Deuxième Bureau, she had never been this uneasy. There had been a couple of tight spots, once in Strasbourg and another in Metz, but even they hadn’t left her with this constant feeling of disquiet. It was if she was waiting for something terrible to happen, and she was powerless to prevent it. All she could do was wait, knowing it would happen, and pretend that everything was normal.

Carrying the dishes over to the large sink, she piled them in and turned on the faucet. Waiting for the water to heat up, she gazed out of the window, her eyes straying to the woods in the distance. Mathieu and André should have returned days ago. They had crossed the border into Belgium almost a week ago to see what news they could gather on the position and strength of the German armies there. While they were doing that, they were also planning on trying to convince one of their contacts to come back to France with them. The entire trip should have taken no more than two or three days, but they had been gone five now with no word from either of them.

Josephine pursed her lips and dropped her gaze to the steaming water in the sink, reaching for the soap. When they had first suggested they go, she had readily agreed. None of them had considered the possibility that the Nazis would move so quickly through Belgium and Holland. The day Mathieu and André left was the day after Hitler launched his attack on the Low Countries. Shaking her head, she filled a dishpan in the sink with soapy water, reaching for a cup. The possibility of being threatened by enemy troops at the border this soon had seemed laughable, yet here they were, just over the Belgian border, with the German army already at Sedan, and Brussels and Antwerp under constant bombardment. Hitler’s Blitzkrieg was proving to be just that: a lightning war that was sweeping through Belgium and Holland as if their defenses were nothing. Luxembourg had fallen that first day, and the next the Germans had breached the mighty Ardennes. The unthinkable was happening. France was on the verge of falling to the Nazi war machine, just like Poland and Norway.

As Josephine washed the breakfast dishes, her mind wandered to the contact they were trying to locate and bring back. He’d been feeding them a steady stream of information for a few weeks now, all of it good. Although he was a fairly new recruit, he was quickly proving his worth. She shouldn’t be surprised, really. He was one of Bill’s finds.

Her lips curved faintly. She really didn’t know how he did it. William Buckley had a knack for discovering the most unassuming people imaginable, that no one would consider remotely suited to this kind of work, and then turning them into invaluable sources of intelligence. Evelyn was a perfect example. When Josephine met her in Strasbourg before the war began, she’d been struck by the intelligent young woman. Young, pretty, and clearly from a social background higher than most, she was everything that other agents were not. And yet she had quickly become one of Bill’s most prized and effective agents.

Another smile curved Josephine’s lips. She hadn’t been surprised to hear snippets of a new English agent’s successes over the past two years. While she’d only spent a few hours with the woman in Strasbourg, it had been enough to convince her that Evelyn was made for this life. And she hadn’t been wrong.

Now Mathieu and André were trying to bring back another one of Bill’s recruits. It was at his request, and Josephine had been surprised by the message. It was unlike Bill to enlist their aid. MI6 tended to keep to themselves these days, especially after Venlo. There were too many spies abroad now, and it was getting too dangerous to be as open and free as they once were. In fact, she thought with a scowl, it was getting so bad that soon they would have to conceal their work altogether, even from citizens of their own country, or risk being exposed and hunted down. Not everyone agreed with what they did, or with what their government was doing. There were many who would welcome a change, and that made what Josephine and the others did even more dangerous. The fact that Bill had been willing to take the risk to bring the new recruit out of Belgium said something. Not for the first time, Josephine wondered what to expect from the raw agent, and what made him so valuable to MI6.

Movement outside the window caught her attention and she looked up, her hands growing still in the sink. Relief surged through her and she let out a soft gasp at the sight of three figures moving out of the trees behind the garden. Grabbing a towel, she dried off her hands as she rushed to the back door, throwing it open.

“Marc! Luc! They’re here! They’ve returned!” she shouted over her shoulder before running outside.

At the sight of her rushing through the garden, one of the men raised a hand in greeting. Josephine felt a suspicious lump in her throat as she threw open the garden gate and ran towards the trio.

“My God, I never thought you two would look so good to me!” she cried, meeting them halfway and throwing her arms around the tallest one. “Thank God you’re all right!”

“I’ve been thanking Him since we crossed the border,” the man replied dryly, closing his arms around her in a bear hug. “We almost didn’t make it back.”

Josephine pulled away and looked up into his tired and drawn face. She turned to the man next to him and hugged him tightly.

“I feel half dead,” he replied gruffly, pulling away and smiling at her. “I’m better now that I see your face.”

A soft flush tinged her cheeks and she smiled back before turning to the third man. He looked just as exhausted as the other two. A hat was pulled low over his brow and he carried a battered suitcase that looked as if it had seen much better days.

“You must be Monsieur Maes,” she said, holding out her hand. “I’m Josephine. Welcome to France.”

“Come and have something to eat. I’m just cleaning up from breakfast. I’ll make you something. You can have hot coffee while you wait.”

“Has Marc had any news from Sedan?” Mathieu asked as they walked towards the house.

“He’s been on the radio all morning. I’m sure he’s learned something. The last we heard was that the German army had broken through the Ardennes and reached Sedan.”

“I was afraid of that,” Mathieu muttered disgustedly. “They’re advancing everywhere. I’d never have believed it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes. They’re breaking through every front as if it wasn’t even there.”

“Completely unopposed as far as we could tell,” André added. “It seems like the only place they’re meeting resistance is in the west, towards Antwerp, and in Holland.”

“Yes, well that was obviously the plan, wasn’t it?” she asked. “Lure the armies into Belgium and Holland and then come through the Ardennes.”

Josephine’s face paled and she stopped in the kitchen garden to stare up at André. “Days?” she repeated, her heart pounding.

He nodded grimly, releasing her arm. “That’s only if the air force can hold them off that long. I don’t see any hope for a stand at the border. Not with the force of their Luftwaffe. Holland won’t hold out much longer, either. They’re being bombarded.”

Josephine swallowed painfully, but before she could answer, a man appeared in the open kitchen door.

“Luc! André says that Holland won’t hold out much longer, and the German armies will be in France in days!”

Luc nodded grimly, holding his hand out in greeting to Mathieu as the small group reached the house.

“I agree,” he said. “Marc just heard that Rotterdam was bombed yesterday. The entire city is gone, flattened.”

“That’s what we’re hearing. Holland won’t resist any longer. They’ll want to preserve the rest of their country.”

Luc looked at him soberly. “Fires are still burning out of control. They don’t know yet, but it must be in the thousands.” He held out his hand. “My name is Luc. You must be Finn. I’m sorry to greet you this way. I wish I had better news.”

Finn shook his hand, shaking his head tiredly. “It is the way of it,” he said with a shrug. “This is war.”

“And the Dutch government?” André asked as they filed through the kitchen door.

“Expected to surrender today. The Germans have threatened to do the same to Utrecht if they don’t capitulate.”

“Destroying an entire city of innocent civilians!” Josephine exclaimed, picking up the cold coffee pot and carrying it over to the counter to make fresh coffee. “Monsters!”