Close to The Sun by Donald Michael Platt

Author:Donald Michael Platt
Format: epub

***

At misty pre-dawn, Seth approached Eppelborn and saw something odd before he reached the town. An enormous English style manor stood at the edge of the forest isolated in the middle of several acres of cleared land. Seth thought he could get to it before daylight without being seen. He hoped no ferocious barking Doberman or German Shepherd would be there to greet him.

The first window Seth tried had been left unlocked. He drew the .45, climbed through, and stepped into a kitchen. Seth waited for his eyes to adapt to the quarter-light until he could move about without bumping into walls and furniture. Ravenous and tempted to forage for food, he first had to see if the house was occupied.

Seth inspected the downstairs rooms and noted the high quality of the furniture, heavy silver tea service, and priceless paintings and tapestries on the walls. He swallowed hard when he saw a picture of a young pilot shaking hands with Hitler and another of the same officer standing beside Göring. Bad luck, he’d broken into the home of a family with serious Nazi connections. Seth found no evidence of accumulated dust in the ground level rooms. Not yet daybreak, its occupants would be sleeping upstairs.

Seth climbed the steps to the upper floor. Doors had been left open to the right and left, both bedrooms unoccupied. He listened for snoring or heavy breathing from the other rooms. No sounds, but a black and white kitten appeared at the far end of the hallway. It stretched, yawned, and bounded along the hall. The kitten rubbed against Seth’s leg and purred, its motor so loud he was certain everyone would awaken convinced a bomber formation flew overhead. With the kitten at his heels, he moved toward the room from where it had come.

Who would be sleeping there? Fat burgher, middle-aged couple, scrawny spinster, or armed Nazi?

Seth opened the door to body width. He almost cried out in surprise at an unbelievable sight. A pale blonde lay asleep in a canopied bed. In spite of the morning chill, a down cover and sheet reached no higher than the young woman’s waist, and one strap of her pink nightgown had fallen off shoulder to reveal a breast shaped like the dome of the Taj Mahal. So perfect of form and face she could have been sculpted out of marble. He moved closer.

Aware of a presence in the room, she opened her eyes, and Seth placed a hand over the blonde’s mouth to muffle any cry. What now? Seth had two choices. Kill or release the woman. And how the hell could he shoot or knife a defenseless female? Of course if she were a vicious Hitler loving Nazi ….

“I am an American. Amerikaner. Verstehen Sie?"

The blonde blinked that she understood.

“Sprechen Sie English?”

She did not respond. Seth had received A’s in German at Cal, but they had been more for reading and translating than conversation. He continued auf Deutsch, “Do not cry out. If you do, then I must kill you.

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