The Black Cross by Greg Iles

Author:Greg Iles [Iles, Greg]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

“Pick up those cases,” the leader ordered. “You’re going to the cellar.”

“Give us a moment, eh?” Stern pleaded in German.

“That was some hike.”

The leader grunted in disgust and stalked out of the foyer. Mcconnell set down his bags and felt his way into a room that had to be a kitchen.

He smelled coffee warming on the stove. It took great restraint to keep from feeling his way to it and drinking straight from the pot.

The leader lighted two candles and placed them on a wooden table at the center of the room. Mcconnell took in the sparsely stocked shelves and yellow-painted walls, then said, “Mein Name ist Mark Mcconnell. Thank you for meeting us.”

The leader shrugged and took off his hat. A mane of blond hair fell around his shoulders. He unwrapped the scarf from his face.

“My God,” Mcconnell said in English.

“I am Anna Keas,” said the young woman, pulling off her heavy coat and revealing anything but a man’s figure.

“Tell your lazy friend to take those suitcases down to the cellar.

You’re in Germany now.“

“Ach du lieber Hergott!” Stern said from the doorway.

“You were expecting a man?” Anna said. “Sorry to disappoint you.”

Mcconnell watched in amazement as the young woman poured the coffee. She appeared to be close to his own age, and she had deep brown eyes-unusual in a woman who otherwise fit the Aryan stereotype of the flaxen-haired, blue-eyed Brunhild.

“You’re hours late,” she said. “You are trying to kill us?”

“Mechanical trouble,” said Stern, stepping into the kitchen. “You work in the camp?”

“Yes. I’m a nurse. There are six of us.”

“You enjoy your work?”

Even by candlelight, Mcconnell saw the woman color at this remark.

“If I did, would I be putting up two nide Englishmen for the night?” she rejoined.

“I’m American,” Mcconnell told her.

“And I’m German,” said Stern. “I was raised thirty kilometers from here, in Rostock.”

“How wonderful for you,” Anna said. “Perhaps you can stay alive long enough to complete your mission.”

Stern walked to the kitchen window and peered through a crack in the curtains. Mcconnell could see the glow of daylight even from where he stood.

“If the wind lets up,” said Stern, “I’ll only have to survive half an hour or so to do that.”

“What do you mean?” Anna asked.

“I mean we’re executing the mission as soon as the wind falls off.”

“Not if you want to succeed.”

Stern turned from the window. “Why not? The daylight is a problem, but we’ve got the German uniforms. We’ll make it to the hill. Getting away alive afterward won’t be easy, but…” He waved his hand dismissively.

“London didn’t tell you?” Anna Keas shook her head in astonishment.

“Major Schemer discovered the body of an SS sergeant today, buried in the hills. He’d been shot by a submachine gun. The SS found four parachutes buried with him. British parachutes.”

“Verdammt!” said Stern. “That’s what Mcshane meant by a ‘warm welcome.” They killed someone during the preparatory mission. Smith must have ordered him not to tell us about it.“

“Terrific,” Mcconnell said.

“It’s a miracle we reached the cottage,” Anna told them.

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