The Orphans of Berlin by Jina Bacarr

Author:Jina Bacarr [Bacarr, Jina]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Boldwood Books

23

PARIS, NOVEMBER 1936

Kay

* * *

With a passionate stirring in my belly for a man I still don’t trust, I look down below from the cockpit of a Beechcraft 17 biplane. I see the wide expanse of green forests and then a patchwork quilt of cultivated land. I tear my gaze away from the incredible scenery down below to Max, his hands working the instruments, his attention focused on flying the plane. And grabbing glances out the window. What’s he looking for? Whatever it is, it’s a needle not in a haystack but hidden in a forest of late afternoon green and purplish hues. A thin layer of fog filters the scene with a smokiness that adds to its romanticism.

The small plane dips lower then rolls from side to side.

Oh, I feel sick…

I fold my arms over my stomach, trying not to retch. Not how I planned to spend my date with the handsome man in the pilot’s seat next to me.

We took off from Le Bourget Airport outside Paris and the reality of what I’m doing hits home. If Max is right, I’m about to spot my first… and hopefully last… Nazi.

I’m no professional secret operative, but here’s what I know.

The facts:

Hitler violated the Versailles Treaty when he occupied the Rhineland back in March with a lot of fanfare. A maneuver that ruffled the plume feathers of France and her Allies, but they did nothing to stop him, according to the man at the controls.

And now the why:

Why I’m risking life and limb up here in the clouds, a woman who as a kid had a hard time climbing up the chocolate vat ladder because I’m afraid of heights (my knees wobble every time I put on a pair of high-heeled pumps). According to Max, there’s suspicious ‘movement’ along the border… The Germans are up to something and he’s going up for another look. Something about ‘I need to make sure before I volunteer.’

Volunteer for what? What’s he up to?

He told me he had a last-minute fare and ferried a client from Paris to Belgium. On the way back to Le Bourget Airport, he noticed unusual ground movement along the border. Officers in Nazi uniforms as well as men wearing topcoats and hats setting up surveying equipment. That intriguing information piqued my interest, though I didn’t tell him why, merely that I find this political talk tedious and wouldn’t it be fun if he took me up in his plane for a ride? Showed me the sights?

I never mentioned I’m afraid of heights. I don’t know what I was thinking, but I’d never forgive myself if I let this opportunity go by and I flubbed my spying job. And, I have to admit, I need to feel useful. I’m still hurting over Mother’s barbs about me being a disappointment. So I flirted with this handsome pilot which, I admit, wasn’t hard, staring into those smoldering eyes and wiggling my shoulders to get him to take me along.

He eyed me with skepticism, but he agreed.

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