Code Name Verity by Elizabeth E. Wein

Author:Elizabeth E. Wein
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction - Young Adult
Publisher: Disney Hyperion

Ormaie 24.XI.43 JB-S

He knows now.

Nacht und Nebel, night and fog. Eva Seiler is going to fry in hell. Oh—I wish I had some clue whether I have done the right thing. But I don’t see how I can finish this story and keep Eva secret. I did promise to give him every last detail. And ultimately, I can’t imagine that giving her identity away will change my fate much, whatever it is.

Because I’d written such a lot the day before yesterday it has taken a while for Hauptsturmführer von Linden to get caught up on the translation, and he and Engel (or somebody) must have kept going without me after I’d been locked up in my cell again last night. I have still not quite slept off the excesses of that day and was out cold at three a.m. or whenever it was that he came in—but woke instantly when the padlocks and bolts on my door began their official-sounding sequence of thuds and clicks, as it always fills me with the most curious mixture of wild hope and sick dread when they unlock my door. I have slept through air raids more than once, but when my door is unlocked I am instantly On My Guard.

I stood up. It is pointless backing against the wall, and I have stopped bothering about my hair. But the Wallace in me still makes me want to face the enemy on my feet.

It was von Linden of course—I almost want to say “as usual,” as he often comes in now to chat briefly with me about German literature when he’s finished work. I think it is the only self-indulgence of his day’s strict routine—Parzival as a nightcap, to clear his mind of the blood that flecks the silver pips on his black collar patches. When he stands in my door and asks my opinion on Hegel or Schlegel, I dare not give him less than my full attention (though I have suggested he needs to take modern writers like Hesse and Mann more seriously. How those schoolboys of his, back in Berlin, would love Narziß und Goldmund!).

So, a visit not wholly unexpected, only last night it was not “as usual”—he was alight. Animation and color in his face, his hands locked behind his back so I could not see them shaking (perhaps also so I would not notice his ring—I am wise to such evasive tactics). He threw the door wide so my cell was lit by the blazing electric bulbs in the interrogation room and uttered in disbelief, “Eva Seiler?”

He had only just found out.

“You lie,” he accused.

Why the hell would I lie about that? I’m Eva Seiler. Ha-ha, not really.

You know, I was astonished he had heard of me, that he seemed to know who Eva Seiler is. I’ll bet it was that imbecilic Kurt Kiefer who spilled the beans on her, after he got back to Paris and blabbed about his conquests. I warned Intelligence he wasn’t clever enough to be a double agent.

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