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OSS agent Antoinette (Toni) Vaughn disappears into Nazi Germany. Burgundy Girl Buy The Complete Version of This Book at Booklocker.com: http://www.booklocker.com/p/books/5249.html?s=pdf YOUR FREE EXCERPT APPEARS BELOW. ENJOY!

BURGUNDY GIRL

by

Eric Ellert

Burgundy Girl - Ellert

2

Burgundy Girl – Eric Ellert Copyright � 1999

Na me s , c h a ra c te rs , a n d i n c i d e n t s de p i c t e d i n t h i s boo k a re p r od u c t s o f t h e author ’s imaginat ion or are used f ic t i t iously. Any resemblance to actual events, l oca les , organ izat ions , or persons , l i v ing o r dead, i s ent i re ly co inc identa l and beyond the in tent o f the author or the publ isher . No par t o f th is book may be r e p r o d u c e d o r t r a n s m i t t e d i n a n y f o r m o r b y a n y m e an s , e l e c t r o n i c o r mechan ica l , i nc lud ing photocopying, record ing, o r by any i n fo rmat ion s to rage a n d r e t r i e v a l s y s t e m , w i t h o u t p e r m i s s i o n i n w r i t i n g f r o m t h e p u b l i s h e r .


4

Chapter 1

France, 1930

She stood on the edge of the wall of the old black reservoir. Wind blew her hair. The

moon outlined her. A rain fell down at an angle. The woods were silent. She sang a good song. It

came from within her, plaintive, and damp and ever alone, unwritten. There were raindrops in

her eyes when she was done. It was an Angel's face, a little too round, but an Angel's face

nevertheless.

She heard the tinkle of a dog's chain coming up the path, a pointer with a clipped tale. It

waited for her. She climbed down the embankment and followed it back to the house. She was a

burgundy girl. Her name was Toni.

The dog belonged to Fritz. The reservoir had once served the manor house that once ruled

over the town, but the great families had gone long ago and the house was just a shell. The Great

War had made the Swiss town of Reme' and the surrounding Alpine valley a small place for the

most part. The people of Reme' rarely complained. They just tried not to see what they couldn't

change. Toni swore she would not leave here, but that was yesterday.


5

She kept thinking of what Becky had told her. She’d pointed to the sky, and had chosen a

star for her. Said it would watch over her. Toni pronounced it ‘Bluestar,’ the closest she could

get to it. She’d looked for it this morning before the Sun came out, but it was not to be found.

She had stood on the same spot. Fritz had watched over her from atop a nearby hill. Toni

was six, Fritz an angry seven.

***

"Hey, Fritz, we’re packing up, time to go. Your parents were waiting," Vaughn said in a

voice with no patience for children.

"You told us we’d have an extra day, maybe."

"We lied, off with you."

Fritz took off out of sight, back to the house.

Colonel Vaughn stopped and pulled his greatcoat tight around him. It was a thing from

the last war, he used to traipse around the countryside. This vacation took them to a house just on

the French side of the boarder. On a clear day they could see Germany. If the weather was right,

they could climb the hills into Switzerland.

He watched Toni wind up her toy, a flapping, yellow, bird like thing. She let it go and it

flew out over the reservoir, then caught a breeze, which pushed it backwards into a tree that had

grown up close to the reservoir’s edge.

He came close to the wall. "We’ve got to go."

She looked down at him and shrieked, then ran across the top of the reservoir. A gap

stood before her where the wall had cracked, after that the land was high-enough for her to climb


6

down. She leapt and believed for a moment she could fly. She was six and could not. She landed

on the other side, cut her knee and rolled down into the brush.

Vaughn walked as if he was marching. "What the hell do you think you’re doing?"

"I thought you were the Russian who came to see daddy."

He picked her up and sat her on the wall. "There’s no such thing." He checked the deep

cut and tied his handkerchief over it.

When she reached up to wipe her eyes, he noticed a mark on her arm. "What’s that?"

"Fleur-de-lis." She said it as one word. "I've got one, pappa has one and Marie has one,

born that way."

It looked like a tattoo to Vaughn. Her father, Munroe, was his best friend, but they were a

screwball family. "Just like that locket around your neck."

She nodded. "The coat looked like the Russian who came to visit daddy, it does."

"Yeah, sure. You’ll live, come on. Everyone’s waiting for you."

He turned around and she climbed up on his back. "Now get the bird."

"We’ll get you another."

"Please, Uncle Tommers."

He set her down again, impatient with kids; he climbed up on the wall and knocked it out

of its' perch then tossed it to her.

Toni held the yellow bird over her head as they walked back, catching its tattered,

cellophane wings in the breeze. "Fix it," she said.

"Just shut up a minute."

They followed the dirt path, then up a hill to the house.


7

Becky, Vaughn’s wife, waived from the car as she got in the front seat. Toni’s parents,

Munroe and Sylvia Glenview sat in front as well. Fritz’s parents stuck their hands out the rear

window.

Fritz came out of the house and waived. "I wanted to wait for you."

Vaughn translated that as waiting for Toni, and he just about smiled, then remembered

that the adults had left him with all the bags. He sat Toni down and went into the house to look

for the other child, for the bags, for the wallet Beckie had surely forgotten.

Marie, Toni’s older sister, lifted up the blanket that covered her and waived from the

rumble seat, then pulled it closed.

Toni shouted after them and ran forward, but they took off round the path out of view.

"Fritz, go entertain Toni," Vaughn said as he dragged bundles and cases over to his car.

Toni kept watching after the other vehicle.

Below, at the bottom of the hill, a shaggy dark lake collected the spring runoff. There the

road curved back around and came close to the sea wall and a concrete boat ramp. A slender,

wooden railing kept the traffic out of the water.

Toni waived as the car came back into view, though the occupants couldn't possibly see

her.

"They’ll be back," Fritz said.

The sound of a small explosion filled the morning, not much louder than the sound of a

blown tire, but somehow metallic. Black, diesel fumes came from the hood. The sedan swerved,

straightened out, then went over the barricade, nose first into the lake. It bounced on top of the

water as if it would float, then its front end went under, the rear wheels still spinning as it

disappeared from sight.


8

Vaughn came out the front door. Everything was clear, and all wrong. He caught Toni as

she tried to run past him, picking her up by her collar and placing her back down behind him.

"The lake," Fritz said, as if the lake were all the monsters in the forest and the night.

"Take care of her. Stay put."

Vaughn pulled his car out of the port. He stopped next to them and rolled down the

window. "Call the operator. Tell them to bring an ambulance."

***

Vaughn braked the car at the edge of the lake, threw his coat away and dove in. Winter

had barely left the early spring water and it froze his lungs.

The lake was over a hundred feet deep in most places and dark and silty. He could just

see the car below him.

Logs fell into the water every season, with the depth and cold and lack of sunlight they

were preserved. The car sat on top of a dirty, brown colored forest.

He kicked and kicked until he reached the wreck but found no one. The contents of the

ashtray floated before his eyes, the contents of a purpose, all the things that people carried but

nothing that was people.

He swam over the top of the car, then down around the nightmare forest below it. He

tried to pull himself deeper, by grabbing at the tree trunks, but his hands cramped on him. He

kicked with his feet, doing a kind of underwater walk for a few yeards and cracked his forehead

against a tree limb. He'd kicked up silt and the little world turned into nothing more than the

stretch of his arms.


9

He kicked deeper and bumped into Becky, hanging limp among the trees. His mind

played tricks with time and the though of all the things he'd said to her and all the things he didn't

as he dragged her to the surface, then over to the boat ramp and out of the water.

He pounded his fists on her chest then bent low and breathed life back into her, until she

stirred then wrapped her in his coat. She sat up, her face strangely blank as if he soul had not

quite caught up to her, but she gave him a small nod.

He wanted to go for the car, which had idled and landed yards away in the brush at the far

side of the road. He didn't expect to find anyone else alive, but he had to at least see them. "Can

you stay awake?"

"He kicked me out of the car," Becky said, grabbing him by the rest.

Vaughn pulled himself away. He took his shirt off, wrapped a few large stones in it, held

it to his chest and dove in again, letting the weight speed him downwards.

The car had slipped some and its front end pointed to the sky. He could find no one. His

weight on the car caused it to slide off the logs that held it up, deeper into the water and out of

sight.

When he got to the surface, he swam to shore and carried Becky to the car, unwilling to

leave her again.

Toni and Fritz stumble down the woodsy hill and came to the edge of the lake at a point

below the roadway. Toni was ahead of Fritz and jumped in.

She could just see the car in the distance as it slid out of view. Bubbles poured up from

the wreck. Bubbles poured from her and she saw the sunlight strike the surface. She let go of life

with ease and watched the air drain from her face and was not afraid. Then Fritz’ hand grabbed

her by the hair and pulled her up.


10

Chapter 2

London, a season after

Vaughn sat in his office. The door read, Coordinator of Information, the building was

owned by MI6. "I tried, Ru"

"They never found the bodies?"

"Tell me the lake’s too deep. So dark at the bottom, a diver can’t keep his wits, or maybe

it was just too much trouble." He chewed on the edge of his hope. "It's a terrible though, Ru, but

they do float, you know. I thought the authorities would have asked a few more questions, but I

suppose, it’s my first drowning."

He smiled at the bitter joke. They had more than a few between them. "How are they?"

"Month’s too soon to know."


11

His door popped open. Toni and Fritz ran in, Becky right behind them. "Thought we’d

drag you away for lunch," she said.

Ruard stood.

"You remember Sgt. Pringle; we were in the war together."

"Nice to see you again."

"I’m stuck here for about a half hour. Ru, why don’t you show the kids around."

"Sure."

Becky sat down. Vaughn moved a trash can across the floor to catch the new drip from

the ceiling. He leaned back in his chair and placed his hands behind his head.

"We get to keep them," Becky said.

"Munroe had family."

"No one they could find."

"Now that’s rather odd. He talked about his family to annoyance."

"But you never met any of them, did you? See." She leaned over and stared into the

bucket, which was nearly full with drips. "It was in his will. Fritz’ relations couldn’t be bothered,

I don’t think. Besides, they’re accustomed to me." Becky pulled a lipstick from her purse and put

on her face. "Munroe Glenview disappeared quite a lot, didn’t he?"

He wanted to get her off the subject without starting a row. The phone rang, giving him a

chance to turn his back on her. "Vaughn speaking."

"Hello, Thomas. I’d like to have a word with you," Munroe said.

Vaughn turned pale and stood up. "I’d like more than a few with yourself." Vaughn

pulled Becky over so she could hear.

"Meet me at the cottage in Hastings."


12

"My cottage."

"Forgive me, but I’ve let myself in."

"There’s beer in the cellar."

"How fast can you get here?" Munroe asked.

"I’m on the next train."

"It’s quite good to hear your voice again."

The phone clicked shut.

Becky leaned her head into Vaughn’s shoulder. "Say something, Tom."

"The bastard owes me a nickel."

"You’re not going alone?"

Vaughn reached into his desk and grabbed his service revolver. "No, I shouldn’t think

so."

He went to the door. "Just to be on the safe side, have someone check out the flat. You

never know. I’ll have them post a man outside."


13

Chapter 3

Hastings

Their cottage lay at the edge of the faded water town, tucked in among shrubs and green

fields. A tourist brochure described Hastings as an ‘endearingly seedy resort town’. Vaughn

would live here all year round if he could.

He saw the car parked outside, went up to the door and let himself in.

A heavy man with a pistol sat at the kitchen table. A slim man came from behind Vaughn

and removed his pistol from its holster. He motioned Vaughn into the darkened parlor then two

men then stepped outside, mumbling with accents Vaughn couldn't quite place.

Munroe sat in a corner by a tinder fire going in the hearth. He turned his wheelchair

around. Bandages covered his face. His eyes were cloudy and far away.

"Hello, Thomas."


14

"I’ve gotten used to you gone."

"Happy to see me?"

"Sure. I’d like to see the ‘cousins’ as well. But that’s difficult as you're all supposed to be

dead."

"You’ll take care of Toni and Marie for me?"

"She was in the car. We never found her."

Munroe dropped his glass.

Vaughn was glad he'd struck a nerve. The man did have feelings, not many, not normal

feelings, they'd disappeared in the last war. "I’ll pour you another."

"No, the glass isn’t broken. You just sit there."

He refilled his tumbler from a bottle on the end table and poured one for Vaughn.

Vaughn had so many questions, but only one that mattered; he had to see Munroe's face.

He reached out to pull at the bandages but Munroe smacked his hand away.

"Injuries? A man heals in a season."

"Just a touch up, Thomas."

"Whatcha' doing with two Jerry cousins out there. Why are you sitting my parlor. Why

aren't you dead like your supposed to be. By the way, it was a very nice funeral." He held up four

fingers. "Have you ever been to one of those?" He paused, the old friendship diluting the

poisoned air. "What are you about?"

"Let’s call it an extended endeavor. Be my life’s work, I should think. I'm beckoming a

new man, Tom. Do you understand?"

"Sorry," He held up his fingers. "Four, you bastard, four."


15

"Not in the plan. I was to fake my own death. The timing, I am told, was crucial. All the

laws of physics said they should have been ejected from the car."

He might have been mournful, but he wore a mask like the Invisible man and smelled

like antiseptic as if he had come back a thing without blood. "Worked for me."

"Why so surprised, really, I've taken extended absences over the years."

"Last was five years, if I recall, but there were those postcards and the lovely Fortune and

Masons fruit basket every year."

"No more postcards then, Tommy. There are other factors at work."

"I’m sure." Vaughn emptied his glass. "And what now?"

"Drugged your drink. You’ll go to sleep. You’ll pretend I am at the bottom of the lake."

"Just like that?"

"It’s for the best. I promise you Tom. I didn't know. I knew it was coming, but not then,

not there. It was the temperature of the water you see. They hadn't factored that in. Spring should

be warm they figured, but the run off from the mountain is ice. Ice, Tom."

Vaughn felt a pain in his temples, from something in the drink, fell and hit the floor hard.

Munroe got out of the wheelchair and patted Vaughn on the shoulder, then handcuffed

him to the radiator.

He went outside; his guards helped him into his automobile and they drove out of sight.


16

Chapter 4

Hastings, 1942

"They’re different sizes," Becky said. "I'm tired of this ritual. I spend half my days trying

to make the cheese ration stretch. Anyway, I put an elastic around the whole thing, and some

piping to give it a little substance."

Becky climbed the ladder again, stood on the top step. The ladder had three good legs, it

came with the house. The sheets for the windows were black.

"When morning comes, I want these things down and out of my sight. Country of funeral

parlors. Makes me shiver" She leaned over, trying to fit the left side of the curtain over the

window frame. "Hand me the hammer and the tacks will you?"

Toni handed her a large, round-headed hammer. It had taken most of the day but the first

floor was about to be finished.

Vaughn entered carrying packages. "I brought in take out from Sabu's."


17

"Sabu is Baghdad, via Hollywood; Samu is genuine Siek," Toni said. Toni had just

turned eighteen. Vaughn had forgotten. He had to be dealt with.

"Your point?" Vaughn said as he laid the packages down on the table.

He came into the parlor as Becky dropped the hammer. "Why are you standing on the last

wrung? You'll break your neck." He walked across the room and retrieved it, then grabbed the

venetian blinds and stared out the window at the back yard. "What is that thing?" he said.

"Tom, isn't it beautiful? They were tearing down that old hotel and the workmen let me

have it."

The fountain covered half the back yard as if it was a piece of dollhouse furniture of a

different scale. Someone must have hooked it up, because Copper, pagan fish blew water spurts

into the air. The fountain's base was an immense oyster shell. Goldfish danced within.

"My tree." Vaughn looked ill.

"I moved it."

"I don't have a say?"

"No darling, don't be ridiculous."

"You know that top step's not for standing."

"I know what I'm doing."

"What were you saying?" Vaughn asked.

Becky took the tacks out of her mouth. "Either you do it yourself or mind your own

business."

"Why not."


18

He pounded away but the window won. He cursed through the tacks, peering at the newly

rococo backyard from time to time as if scrunching the blind’s slats together could make it go

away.

An hour later, the evening was just dark and Vaughn couldn't manage it.

"I might be able to give it a try dear," Becky yelled from the Kitchen.

He dangled on one foot, pushing the corner of the sheet over the edge of the window. "I

can do it." The three sides that weren't' tacked down popped off. Becky and Toni giggled behind

his back.

"It's not funny."

They came to watch. "If there's an air raid you just have to stand there," Becky said.

"Comes under ‘fight on the beaches’, I think. And it’s immensely funny."

"You're so smart." He rolled out of the room and came back up the ladder newly armed

with a heavy-duty stapler. They lost a lot of plaster, but it stuck.

Mr. Beverly, the local Air Raid Warden, came up on the porch and shined a flashlight

into the window. "National Emergency. Put that light out."

Vaughn leaned over and lifted up the curtain a bit. His cold pair of eyes looked out.

Mr. Beverly dropped his whistle.

"Get off my porch, now," Vaughn whispered.

Beverly scuttled off the porch and whipped through the bushes below to the safety of the

right side of the fence.

Toni walked into the kitchen, grabbed the tea kettle, trying not to smile.

Becky turned out the lights, pushed aside the curtain and went out onto the porch.


19

Mr. Beverly wore a tin helmet from the last war. He peered at the window through

dime-round glasses on a thin, pasty nose.

"I'll give you this, his brother's dumber," Vaughn said.

"Vaughn, now was that really necessary?"

"The world will not be a more irenic place if I make nice nice to that fool. That gaupsheit

has been the mayor of the walk for years. Now they've gone and given him a tin helmet and a

flashlight and he's the block's official pest. You know the other day, I caught him with his hand

in the mailbox. I'll break it off next time."

"You impossible, sour man."

He sat on Toni's respirator, one of the cheap gasmasks in cardboard boxes everyone had

received. He hurled it at the screen door then took a look at the pamphlets lying on the chair.

What to do in case of airborne assault. "And let me tell you something else. No cardboard gizmo

will do you any good. They yell gas and you just lay down and die."

"All right, all right. He just wants something to do." Becky stood and walked out of the

room. "He's lonely." She over pronounced the word.

Vaughn looked after her. The kettle whistled. "Just a little lemon, Toni."

"Lawbreaker." Toni stuffed the Indian food back into its container. "Sabu’s" she said.

Vaughn sat in his chair and rattled his paper.

Becky came back in, grabbed the cardboard respirator and put it on the end table. She

picked up the hammer. "And let me tell you something, colonel, that nincompoop is the first

neighbor I turn to when you're not here." She opened the door, "Mr. Beverly. Mr. Beverly, I'm

terribly sorry."


20

Outside, he could only see Becky's shadow, the hammer still in her hand. He backed

away. He pointed his finger as if to say, I was right about you people all along.

Toni laughed.

"What's wrong with that man?"

Vaughn looked out the window. Beverly wrote something down in his notebook and

waddled down the lane.

"Oh my. Becky, why did you attack that poor man with your hammer?"

She looked down at it. "What must he think?"

Vaughn folded the ladder. "Nothing to be done about it. We'll just have to leave the lights

out in this room tonight."

"Now I have to go and apologize again."

The screen door bounced on its hinges as she left. The kettle boiled over whistling.

Vaughn eased toward the cool of the basement. He passed Toni in the hall, held his palms

up and shrugged, "Yanks."

"Should I find somewhere to go?"

"Feel free to hang about and eavesdrop by the way, Toni."

He opened the basement door to disappear below. The walls were lined with books. The

center of the basement held a large, rectangular fishtank with a dogfish inside.

Vaugn opened a can of tuna and fed it. The listless shark kept its head in the corner as if

sulking. He tapped the glass. "You too?"

Toni followed him down.

"Don't you have some trouble to get into?"

"What?"


21

"I mean go out and vandalize something, play a practical joke on a stranger, you know,

live."

She stared. Everyone loved Vaughn. No one liked him. He was impossible to like.

"I wish I could," he said.

"You and your shark. Whole ocean just down the block, and you and your shark."

"We have an understanding."

"I miss Fritzy. When he does come home; he barely says a word to me."

Vaughn turned the tank’s compressor off and on, as if he had quite a few things to say but

just touched her face and nodded to the staircase.

They went upstairs together. The staircase was basement dangerous and they leaned on

one another. She looked at the back lit fish tank. "Vile creature if you ask me."

"Bought him from a fishing boat. Still kicking around. Figured if he was too mean to kick

it, well, I like him."

"He'd make a nice little steak then, I suppose."

"Too skinny." He bumped into the light bulb hanging at the top of the stairs, making it

bounce on its long chord, pulling shadows from the room. "You think the fountain’s revenge for

the shark?" he asked.

Toni shut the lights off and closed the door.

"Never heard of such a thing."


22

Chapter 5

Vaughn walked the beach for some yards and sat on the askew lifeguard chair. The

evening was foggy-misty so one couldn't see the ocean from the boardwalk and in the sea was

war, but not this evening.

"Whatcha' doing?" Becky asked as she walked up in a sweater, a wine bottle dangling

from her loose hand.

"Ordering the tide back." He moved over and patted the seat next to him. "Care to try it?"

"Rather make do."

He pulled her up. "Good to see you, Yank, missed you." He ran the back of his hand

through her hair.

"Only light in the room."

"Hm?"

"You said that once."


23

"Sorry, I don't remember."

She got that wild look in her eye. "Come on Tom, we'll make it to the buoy."

He looked out with the hundred-yard stare. He hated this stretch of ocean, this hard rocky

beach. Something frigid ran in the water, even in summer, as if it didn't want you and now it was

leaking oil from ships, and the bits of men who drowned.

"Vaughn, one last swim with me. Dead low tide. You know what that means." She threw

a shell into the water stripped off her jacket, revealing her swimsuit and ran into the surf.

He followed her footprints in the sand. There was a long ribbon moon in the water like

the devil's own sunlight. The low tide water smelled stale and there were too many crawling

things, floating things, night things. He stepped over a mossy horseshoe crab, ancient and

persistent and dove in after her.

They swam in the evening light. Shells and phosphorous bursts lit up the far shore in

France, clouds above, night creatures below them. She had a gift for the water. If she had gills he

was sure she would stay.

Beneath the water it was quiet and waveless, as if nothing could touch him here. He could

see the moonlight on the surface. He thought of ships, the thousands of men and women who

traversed the oceans. He listened for the sound of propellers and for other voices like whalesong,

traveling the world. He couldn't hear them, but he knew they were there.

When he broke the surface he noticed Becky making for the buoy. He followed and she

pulled him up. Like children, they turned the sea hatch at its top and sat inside, glowing by the

red emergency light and watching the moon appear and disappear as the buoy wobbled in the

waves. It smelled like a tackle box.


24

"How bad was it?" she asked. The evacuation at Dunkirk was the only thing on

anybody's mind this week.

"Well, worst than the radio, better than the papers."

"But where is the truth, Tom? I mean, we're closer to France than London."

"Come visit my desk, truth's not all it's cracked up to be; we’re losing." He ran his fingers

down the profile of her face. "I would have gotten out of it, if not for the war."

"Liar, I know all about you," she said. "You'd just be underfoot if you retired, anyway."

They listened to the water, nothing ever said.

She smiled in that strange way she smiled and it didn't matter, none of it. He held her

more. "How do you do that?"

She slipped into his lap, head against his neck, hand playing the diamond of her ring

against his ear. He ran the back of his hand against the soft bangs, a recent departure. He thought

they made her face look much thinner.

He started to speak; she shook her head. They listened to the beautiful, harsh bell atop the

buoy as it kept contra rhythm to the waves, until the thunder and lightning started approached

and they had to flee.

***

When they returned home Becky handed Vaughn a drink and walked into the living room

then came over behind him. "Come on Tom, dance with me."

She turned on the radio. Out came a song like any other, but it brought back memories.

The static came a moment after each burst of thunder.


25

"No."

She pulled him to his feet. "Come on, now." They danced around the room. The radio

made that space movie sound for the rain, its lit dial the color of honey. They weren't just good,

they were wedding gossip good, everybody said so. The smell of paraffin and the soft,

candlelight glow sent silhouette shadows around the room. The quiet pre-storm air hinted of a

big rain a coming. Songs came and went, they kept dancing.

"Fritz?" Becky asked.

"He called and don't worry."

"It's been months since he's been home. I’ll let him have it."

"I’m keeping him busy."

"You could give him some leave," Becky said.

"We’ll try."

She pushed him back into his chair. "Know, what they should do, holiday comes around

everybody gets to mark their spot, leave their tank where it is and go home for forty-eight hours.

Come back, resume positions, on your mark, resume the war."

"Wouldn’t some people cheat?"

"Oh, we’d just shoot those people."

She got up on the ladder and tacked up one corner of a blackout curtain.

He put his feet up and admired her balance, then something was just sort of wrong.

"You've got something on your leg."

She lifted her leg up a little and looked at her calf.

"No, here in the front." He came over, dropping his drink on a table. He bent down to

touch her and came back with blood. Their eyes meet over the rich blood, from some deep place.


26

He dabbed it with his handkerchief. "Must’ve knicked yourself." The blood ran down her

leg, not so much, but it kept coming. All his instincts kicked in and he knew it was trouble, but

he kept his voice calm as he spoke. "Come on, I'll get the car."

***

Toni headed down the stairs as he headed up. "Toni, pack your mother an overnight bag."

She didn't listen, so he turned her around by the elbows and pushed her back up the stairs.

As he hurried, he ran Becky's image through his mind; the subtle changes over the past months

he'd not noticed; the brittleness around the eyes, other tells.

Toni could se only the legs and maybe something frightened in his eyes. She started to

holler down the stairs.

"Don't think about it, just do it," Vaugn said.

Becky's smile covered her paleness as he looked at her and whispered to Toni. "Act like

it's nothing, will you? We'll meet you in the car."

Toni turned the bedroom light on and grabbed a few things for Becky.

From around the corner, Warden Beverly saw the candlelight from the open door, put his

whistle to his mouth, then dropped it. He muttered off down the street for a pint until his next

rounds.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Vaughn whispered as he got into the car.

Becky shrugged.


27

They took a quiet drive, with an endless interval of pleasantries, like mild strangers at a

polite function who talk of anything that was not dear to them. The taped up headlights barely

cut through the fog.

Six months later and it was done.

Chapter 6

They stood 'neath the Felini black umbrellas of St. Joan’s parish yard; standing lightly for

the ground was soft, and impermanent. They passed a recumbent statue of an angel, worn as if

melting in the rain. The fading lady mourned, whomever.

Mr. Beverly didn’t come too close, thinking Vaughn didn't like him. "Nice woman. But

they always say, don't let them cut you open. Once they let the air inside you, you're done," he

said.

Toni kissed him.


28

A few of the stones were canted in slightly windswept directions, full of indistinct

epitaphs seldom read or forgotten. To Toni, there seemed to be an extraordinary number of

children's names.

"Anything new, Toni?" a neighbor woman asked. "Mrs. so and so had begun digging an

air raid shelter in her garden. More cheese, less butter. That coat you bought last winter, good

thing, wouldn't believe the price of clothing now."

Toni didn't listen for more than a moment. In the hospital, there'd been long bits of

silence broken by a respirator's sound and nurse boots.

"Wouldn't kill you, but they'd sure as hell watch you die," the neighbor said.

It rained harder. She heard funeral whispers as they walked away and the pallbearers

floated away like wraiths.

The sea lanes were for the living and it was unfeasible to send Becky home to the States

but the faded lady will do.

***

Vaughn heard the choir practicing. It sounded just as it did when he first heard it, as a

child, as if it had never ceased all these years. No bells now, as if Viking ships might hear.

A man came out of the fog. He put another stone at the fading lady's base, but intruded no

further. "Thank you for taking my Toni." he said to the wind. He hummed a tune. He played with

the catch on his green umbrella, as the party disappeared into the fog.


29

Vaughn turned back from the procession and followed. He knew Munroe and ran after

him as the green umbrella went through a hole in the gate and disappeared into the back seat of a

car that pulled away as Vaughn came within reach of it.

Fritz came up beside him, slid in the mud and braced himself on Vaughn’s arm. "What’s

wrong?"

"I thought I saw a ghost." The past was the present and the present was the past, but

funrels were forever, nothing said and done in those hours was ever forgotten, so he took one of

Fritz's cigarettes and kept his mouth shut.


30

Chapter 7

Vaughn spent most of his days in London or at Area O. They'd retreated from Hastings

but they still left their possessions here. Toni had recently moved back; it felt like her place, but

he was home today. She didn't think often of Vaughn, though she did think often of Fritz. As far

as Toni was concerned, he pulled 350 knots in the sky, ate dehydrated eggs and reconstituted

peaches, did his best to think about today, was a good pilot, and didn’t write often.

"Try this. Take them out to eat," Vaughn said into the phone. "Bring one or two of the

'FANNies'. Arrive out of uniform if you can manage it. These refugees from the Continent are

scared, Ru, just plain scared. Get to know them. These are nice people, Ru. Believe me, once

they settle down, all they'll want to do is talk. But a letter on Admiralty stationary is going to

scare the hell out of them."

Vaughn carried the telephone into the other room when he noticed Toni. "Yeah, I know,

interpreters would be a big help, but we can't spare them. Muddle through, seargeant-major.


31

Take them right off the boat. There's a place called Lou’s, yeah it's close by, family style dining.

He’s ah, gotten his way around rationing, but don’t mention it. Get back to me this evening." He

hung up. The phone rang, but he didn't answer it. Toni sat down in a chair next to it, and together

they didn't answer it.

Toni took a look around this two dimensional house. She missed watching Vaugn doing

Becky's crossword puzzle in ink and the fight's over it. She couldn't think of anything else she

missed.

"Would you like a ride, Toni?"

"It’s all right; I really don't mind the train."

"If you change your mind, just call. It's no bother."

There was no need to stay. The Blitz had ended, the Little Blitz had started on London,

but Hastings was being bombed as well, besides, they'd both grown to dislike the house, the town,

the country. They had no peace here.

Their shore was quiet in winter and cold. She'd attached the winter windows. She'd called

to have the power off.

She was overjoyed when Vaughn shut the door and left. She went up to her old room and

searched through her unnecessary things.

Mr. Burns, the bear, got the ax. She called it cleaning the room, but it was something

more.

She took a break and sat in the corner on the floor then got up to discard more things. She

looked through a cigar box she'd found on her shelf, feeling quite melodramatic.

"When in doubt, toss it." She started to well up, it had been of Becky's phases. Her

touches were all over the house. Her voice was in the coats of paint, the carpet.


32

Toni looked through the box. Broken beads and costume jewelry, for the most part, an

early rainy Sunday lipstick, a few other things. She took the locket, although it was only brass.

The chain made her neck green, she remembered, but it was easier to carry than the rest.

To kill Mr. bear in shame, to destroy page by page those journals where the I's were

dotted by hearts. She performed the old pagan ritual, obligatory and cruel and tossed anything in

the room that would reasonably fit into the fireplace downstairs and burned them.

She passed a mirror in the hallway. The gray sweater hid her new figure. She lifted it up.

She’d dropped ten pounds on the Victory Diet, going on fifteen, it would seem.

She rushed down the stairs, only ceremonially touching the railing and walked down the

lane. The door was hard to lock but did.

She had her private street today. Tea sounds nice, downtown, maybe the thought.

***

She shopped a town over and wandered through the two story alleys. She crossed the

street; a lorry painted, Woodpecker Trucking, just missed her.

She went into a store. The window pain had been shattered some time ago. Inside, a

cardboard placard held Buck Rodgers death ray guns in a display. She fired one of them. It made

a grinding gear noise. "You think these are any fun after hearing the real things?"

"Hm. Last year's model," the owner said. "Slingshots are popular now. Good to pop out

a window."

Toni started to leave.

He pulled her back in as he noticed the crowd gathering down below.


33

A nearby store played marching music over a tinny iron-steel loudspeaker, but no parade.

The street was roped off and sadly quiet. Somewhere, two kids bounced a ball.

The crowd peered over a Bobby's shoulder.

A baby blue bomb stuck out of the ground. The canister stood about the height of a man.

They called it a land mine, made to go off later. Two men of the bomb disposal unit inspected it.

Gingerly, the corporal opened the hatch. He looked inside, just long enough to see the sunlight

strike the photoactive sensor, placed there for just such an occasion. His partner tried to pull him

back. Then there was a brief horror and the ringing of ears and they were gone.

The ball was forgotten and only the boys' footsteps could be heard running away. The

music played on.

Toni and the proprietor stood, holding handed as the crowd departed. A tan cloud of dust

that didn't want to settle floated around them and a water main river poured down the street. A

disturbing odor of cordite and innards and asphalt and brick dust blackened their nostrils.

It had gotten so quiet as Toni left. She'd waited 'till all were gone, holding hands with the

drab, melancholy man with the Buck Rodger's death ray guns he couldn't sell in his widow.

***

She walked towards the water, then sat on a rotting pier pole watching the Kaiser ships

being unloaded. She wondered how the country could possibly not have enough with so much

stuff coming in.

She smoked a cigarette as the ship pulled out ever so slowly, sitting so high in the water,

looking like it would topple for its lightness.


34

She wondered if it wouldn’t be faster to walk across the Atlantic. She kissed a piece of

tobacco from her lips as the cold wrapped around her. She thought of nothing.

Someone whistled harshly and jerked his thumb. "We want your spot for crates. Out."

Toni walked back towards Hastings. She looked at a patched-up brick building with a tile

roof and a sign that said local fish.

A man outside sold crates of wine from a cart. "Crofta table wine with the red dragon on

the label," he said.

"Is it a good wine?" Toni asked.

"Does it matter?"

"If we had some bacon, we could have some bacon and eggs, if we had some eggs." It

was the kind of thing the locals liked to say, forever.

She crossed the street. Lou’s eatery sat at the end of a pier. Vaughn liked to take Becky

and Toni here years ago. Becky hated the place. Codcheeks and ro liver, fluke in the chips

instead of flounder, the sign in the window read.

A man outside the restaurant, sold fortune birds from a cart. Toni never understood the

custom. The bird got itself caught and caged. By its very nature it was unlucky.

The green door had a milk coat of paint that looked aged when it was new and now hung

from its hinges.

The bell rang as Toni opened the door. The room went quiet for a moment. She walked to

the last table against the wall. She leaned back into the leather booth and waited.

Lou dropped an egg on the grill and scraped something imaginary with his spatula, then

wiped a spill that was not there.


35

Toni sat in her booth, not touching her food, smoking cigarette after cigarette, and coffee

after coffee, lying back, kicking the table leg and watching the clock on the far wall.

Finally, Ru, two WRENS and a family came in and took the next booth.

Toni had paid Lou to keep it open. She eavesdropped on the conversation though the

booths were high and she couldn't see their faces, but she knew the drill from listening to

Vaughn.

They'd just spent a day buying clothing and raisers and watches from the arriving

refugees, props for agents.

They were found on the docks, approached pleasantly enough but they were scared, one

uniform looked much like another to these folks. They weren't talking.

Ru went on and on as if they were not there. "It's not just the language; it's the regional

dialects, the class inflections. Their whole world's gone and they worry about the old ways." He

talked at them in loud English.

The man started to speak; Ru banged his glass down on the table. "Shut up I told you, no

Parle. I can't help your cow and I can't help your farm. Eat up, you bastard."

Ru turned to the WRENS who’d accompanied him. "You know what we need, some

pasty faced little twerp who reminds them of their neighbor's kid."

"I could do that," Toni said. "Excuse me." She got up, her left leg asleep. She leaned an

arm shyly on the top of the booth. "They tell me I'm passable good."

"Mind your own business."

"I could fake a few dialects as well. Name's Toni."

"I know who you are." He scratched his head and looked off into the distance.


36

Toni went on in French. The couple just melted away. They sang to her. In five minutes

they sold their pockets.

The WRENS took them away to get down to the more mundane business of needs and

wants, billeting, the future.

Ru looked at Toni as if rather surprised she wasn't still seven or so. "We interview

refugees from the Continent all day long. We try to buy their gear, pump 'em for information.

Most of it's useless, but once in a while, you put the price of oranges together with the price of

tea over there, you might just have something. Nothing exciting. We hope for the best."

"Why are you worried about the price of oranges?"

"Just for example. They import oranges by rail from Spain. If the price suddenly goes up,

that means the lines out, that means we bombed it correctly."

"I'll do it."

"Maybe we don't want you."

"So what. Tell me about Vaughn and Becky."

He finished his cigarette before speaking, just ready to get up, then sat down again.

"Yeah, I can do that."


37

Chapter 8

They stayed for desert and talked of insconsequentials. Over a drink, they heard engines

of the wrong caliber. The taped windows shook. The sky glowed in front of them, but they

couldn't see what was burning. The explosions followed one after another. Then pretty, orange

flares dropped down from the clouds. Toni wondered how anyone could like the sound of a

fireworks display now.

Endless explosions. The windows rattled near out of their panes. Lou’s pier was lopsided

and creaked as a fishing boat bounced into it.

The restaurant's patrons moved to the railing outside as one. Someone put a coin in the

Beach Peeper as if it could see into the cloudy night sky.

More incendiaries split open in mid-air after they were shoveled out of airframes and fell

to earth like bright raindrops.


38

Like its mirror image at Calais, Toni felt there was something obscene about the fighting

here, given the rides.

As a child, she'd try to guess where the house was from this spot then she choked,

realizing that those flares were falling on houses, her house.

With bombs still falling, Toni ran off the pier and down the lane.

She passed a run-off ditch full of urchins. The excitement of the first bombings having

quickly passed, they had dark faces on and they sat in the shallow channel like kids under covers,

imbuing magical properties to things so frail as silk and wool. She could hear one or two singing

as she passed. 'Hitler has only one ball, Göring two but very small.'

***

When she got near the house, it felt like an era had passed. The mist from the melting

snow, the orange bright flames, the steam clouds rising around the arching fountains of the fire

engines seemed quite lovely, but not today and not her house.

She ran closer. The block was barricaded.

She could see the light the flames threw off and the water from the fire companies. Loose

electric wires struck out and bounced around like dying vipers. Phone exchanges surged to

capacity and collapsed as people called people.

At the far edge of the block, a two-pound Pom Pom gun listened with its electric ear for

the sound of engines, the edge of it's barrels moving this way and that.


39

Their tree collapsed into the backyard fountain, trapping it and holding it there as they

both burned. An obscene daylight projected all around as if the fires beneath the earth had been

loosed to challenge the sun.

The tree burned brighter and beautiful, orange sparks lighter than air floated upwards and

into the night as the patina cherubs at the thop melted. The Rubenesque gargoyles at the base,

twisted out of shape, seemed to look up as their features turned phoenix and disappeared into a

dun black sky.

The flames came very close to the gingerbread cornice details, but the house was only

scarred. The curtains billowed outwards as the air pressure dropped as if some one wanted to pull

the Bakelite people from a dollhouse out into the wider world. At the base of the fountain, the

fish boiled bloated like eggs left on the stove when all the water was gone.

All up and down the block, the macabre dead, melted into the asphalt or went unnoticed.

The burning air warmed Toni and the snow and fog and mist made the distance a backdrop,

midnight gray. But the lighting was otherworldly now. Gas mains exploded louder than bombs.

Ru rushed through the soft crowds to get to her. For a moment Toni thought of postcards

and taffy and small town concerns and being six and found in a crowd. It rained, but it was too

crowded for umbrellas and Ru nodded to her as if they were workmates.

She looked up at him. She babbled. Part of her mind listened to herself babble and part of

her kept doing it. The air was moist and warm and relaxing, but she was poised to spring. She

kept telling herself there were fish in the fountain.

"Hey, Hey," Ru said as he pulled her face to look at him. An Etruscan woman sat on a

hill with her children watching the Romans burn her town, not knowing what else to do, she

handed her son his father's sword and said, "Get down to the battle."


40

"What makes you say that?"

"I have a feeling if I let you go you might just leap into that fire."

"I'm all right, Ru."

He smiled and shook his head. "Hang on Linda."

"Why’d you call me that?" Toni asked. Ru’s face belonged to some inner world. She

imagined if she touched it, it would crack. "Never mind," she said.

He didn't seem too hear her. "It'll be all right." That's all they said about the matter.

She leaned the side of her head against his chest and fell into the bracket made by his

arms and looked down, anywhere but at the fire.

"It's no good," Ru said. "You look too much like that little girl they let run around

headquarters playing agent and breaking things."

Toni looked right into the flames and the heat that gave them both campfire suntans that

would fade after a day or so. They shared his last cigarette.

No one fought the fire more than Mr. Beverly with the cheap canvas gasmask bag

strapped to his hip and the fire hose that shot brown water, as it was low tide.

When the flames cleared and they could walk the block, Toni pulled Ru away and they

shambled back towards the restaurant.

Lou opened up the bar free and the old crowd and more spent the night eating the ice

cream and chops before they melted. No one resented his connections tonight. They set up a

projector and the movie played over and over as power would permit. As power dimmed and the

power lit, some just laughed, some stared.

Toni and Ru waded arm and arm along the pier, down tot he shore and back tow the

water's edge.


41

"So, you promised me a job," Toni said.

"I promised you tea in the reception area."

"It’s a, you know, a Kismet thing. It's why you're here."

"No." He held up his hand, "Coincidences don't happen. I called your house and you

show up. But you do have a way about you, Toni Vaughn." He wrote an address on a piece of

paper. "Show up at these offices on Monday. You know how to get there?"

Toni squinted, refusing glasses. "Sure."

"Mostly, we buy razor blades and console widows, and eat in dumps. Can I offer you a

ride?"

"Why not."

He held the car door for her. "Guy in Lou's offered to sell me ten pounds of coffee. Don't

know wether to take him up on it or turn him in?"

Toni interrupted him and moved closer. "I lied. I want to go over."

"Shut up. I'll ride you back to London."

"I’d like to see how the house is."

"All right." He started the car and drive slowly for lack of proper headlights.

"Area O," Toni said. "Tourist Mission, talk of Twelveland. I know everything. Shall I

continue?"

"No, get lost. I don’t sleep so good now."

"Come on, Ru, you promised me a job."

"With any luck they’ll boot you in the rear, out the door, and save me the trouble of

hurting your feelings," Ru said; then he laughed. He was huge, beefy hands, beefy face, all chest

and belly held up by stick legs. "Well, darling--"


42

"--Don't even call me darling. I am going over, one of these days."

"You could look in on the house, then, I’ll ride you back to London. Don't go digging

around in the, the rubble. Come home with a scratch, Vaughn'll have me in the river. Know what

we calls him, behind his back of course?"

"Gossip to me, Pringle."

"The black Vaughn."

"Really, that's hard to believe."

"Not to be confused with the Medieval incarnation, but deadly, nevertheless. I think you

should go home and forget all about this. The Sun has gotten brighter, burgundy girl. Ain't quite

the same as the last war. Lot of love in the last war, believe it or not."

Toni stared straight ahead as they passed the house and motioned him to drive along.


43

Chapter 9

Occupied France 1942

"Where are we exactly?" Jaques Mourdal asked.

"Hence the darkened windows," Iliana said.

"People call me Johnny."

"I bet they do. Get some sleep. I’ll want you fresh."

Miles later, the car stopped at a roadblock. The sentry checked the papers the driver

handed him, then tapped on the rear door. The passenger window rolled down. He shined the

light on Iliana. Her blonde hair and evening clothes shone back. He noticed Johnny in private’s

stripes but made no comment and motioned them on.

They drove four hours through French farm country when the driver pulled over to the

side of the road. Trees blocked their view of the stars. Iliana leaned forward and took a thermos


44

of coffee from the floor, and pressed that and a package of cigarettes into Johnny’s hand. "Get

out, Johnny."

He stood at the side of the road. "We’re near the boarder, aren’t we?"

"Wait here, Johnny."

"We could use something from the bar."

She pulled a crystal decanter from the mini bar, dumped some out onto the road and

checked the remnants to see if it was more than he should handle. She tossed it to him, then shut

the door and taped on the smoky glass between her section and the driver.

They sped off another hour. She rolled down the divider and told the driver where to turn

off. They passed the Reme’ house and came to the edge of the lake. "Stop here."

The soldier got out of the car and offered his hand, then backed the car against the sea

wall and opened the trunk. The corporal struggled with the large, wooden crate, then managed to

lever it out of the trunk and onto the edge of the seawall rail.

He tipped it over the wall and into the water. It made an endless sound on the woodsy

lake. A distant dog barked. They watched the water until the ripples turned to dark glass again.

Iliana watched the soldier's young face. She pulled a cigarette case from her purse and

offered him one. "In the Army long?"

"Six months."

"Johnny was supposed to kill you."

"I know," he said.

She took a roll of bills out and stuffed them into his pocket. She leaned forward and

kissed him on the cheek, then pointed south. "The boarder’s that way. It has been crossed, or so

I've been told."


45

"I’d like to get back to my unit."

She made a gun with her fingers, "Pow, pow. Shan’t be done now. Just forget all about

today."

He took a few steps backwards, then walked off into the forest. He looked back once as

she turned the car around and left.

She drove, keeping the headlights doused as she tried to find the main road again. She did

about twenty-five.

Johnny ran out into the road.

She hit the breaks but still taped him hard-enough to knock him over. She backed up the

car and got out.

"You could have killed me," Johnny said.

"If I’d known you were there, I would have driven faster."

"What’s wrong with you?" He looked into the car. "Where is he?"

"Dead. I shot him."

"You never shot anybody."

"Get in, you’ll have to drive." She got into the back seat.

"So I’m good?"

"You’ll be fine. You go back to your unit, everything back to normal."

"How do you know?"

"I haven’t a clue. You’re the one who wanted a ride."

Johnny got lost. They ended up driving back towards the Swiss boarder. They stopped at

a checkpoint. The guard took some time with the paperwork.


46

A soldier opened the rear door. "Miss, please step out of the automobile. There’s no

problem. Just a few points I need to confirm." He helped her out.

Iliana pulled a telephone number from her purse and handed it to the soldier.

He examined it for a moment then took Iliana in. She looked like she’d been rolling

around in the mud. "Would you care to wait in the duty shed?"

Once inside, they poured her coffee.

The soldier got on the phone but was put on hold. Then he explained the situation.

The voice on the other end of the line sounded like it was coming from the far end of the

earth. "She's a special favorite. Reichsfuhrer Hess has left word. Please be so kind as to escort

Ms. Revan’ to Ulm. She has a suite at the Ostendorfe Morisse. Someone will be waiting."

"Very good and then there is the other." He tapped on the window to tell the other guard

to relax. But Johnny had snuck from the car and was gone.

Iliana badgered them until they let her use the telephone directly. "I'm frightened,

Rudolph."

"Don’t be, Iliana, but there’s been a slight change of plans." He hung up the receiver.


47

Chapter 10

Göring’s Hunting Lodge

"Thank you for the use of the telephone. I must see Hermann. I am pressed for time. How

long did you say before Herr Göring returns?"

"One half hour, Reichsfuhrer, Hess."

"That is, perhaps acceptable. Do you mind if I eat?"

"I’d be glad to order you something. Our chef is excellent."

Hess looked around this reception area cut out of a Tenth Century castle. "I imagine he is.

But I follow a special diet." He pulled a package from his briefcase. "Perhaps you will have this

warmed for me?"


48

***

He taped the empty tray when he finished eating. He checked the clock, then checked the

clock against his watch. Forty-five minutes passed. He grabbed the intercom from the desk and

buzzed.

"Yes."

Hess ran to the door, opened it wide, then shut it behind him and locked it.

Göring wore a hunting costume of his own design, with a jeweled-leather vest over a

frilly, white shirt. He stood and pushed a drawer shut with his foot and put his foot on the chair,

adjusted his tassels, then stood and straightened his leather shorts.

"Hermann, I need to clear a flight plan. I need to do it now."

"You’ll be flying?"

"My personal aircraft."

"A 109. You always were a show off. Sit." Göring picked up a photo of himself from the

Great War. It showed him standing next to his blue triplane. Von Richtoven stood next to him, a

rare smile on his face. In the photograph, Goering was fit and lean.

Still wearing makeup, Hess thought, but dared not say it.

"I don't like this business, Rudi."

"You’ve been briefed. I've come from the Fuhrer." He held up the satchels he carried.

"You’ll live in the Tower of London in a week or dead."

"I will succeed."

"Nonsense." Göring sat down, poured himself a drink and took a bite of pastry.

"You are so sure?"


49

He pointed to a folder on his desk. "You were cleared. At least we won’t shoot you

down."

"You were hunting today?"

Göring stood and looked out the window at his personal forest. "It quiets the nerves."

Göring turned and stared at Hess for half a minute. "Look at this, will you?" He opened a cabinet

and turned on a large television receiver. The screen warmed up and he turned up the volume.

Men in chain mail with ceremonial wooden swords at their hips, sat around a version of

the round table. "The chamber beneath the main hall."

"Goebels has his peculiarities."

"As I am aware." He pointed to the screen. "This one’s English, that over there a Russian,

a Swiss, an Ami. Some foreign bankers, some politicians. Aren't we at war with these people?

And what’s that damn Harry Hopkins doing there? My sources tell me he’s a Red." He smoothed

the feather in his hunting cap. "I tell the car to go one direction, off it goes on its own merry

way."

"Perhaps you are to much of a fatty." The wounds and the morphine had caused a

glandular condition in Goering and the Fuhrer didn't like it, nor did he care for Hess any longer.

Goering would understand and if they were being listened to, the knock at the leader would go

unnoticed perhaps.

"I've lost twenty pounds."

"I know. I apologize, Hermann." Hess removed his flight plan from his briefcase and laid

a copy on Göring's desk. "You were quite a fellow."

"Don’t I know it."

"You could come with me."


50

"Messerschmitt seats one."

"I’m serious."

"I am loyal to my Fuhrer. He will need me again."

Hess sat on the edge of the desk. "Herman, did you ever stop to think that the bullet you

took. It might have had a purpose?"

"Purpose don’t interest me. I don’t like where this is going."

"That the Fuhrer’s purpose was just to bring us to the point of power."

"I don’t suppose you would understand," Göring said.

Hess finished his drink and checked his watch. "I am pressing the limits of time."

"Ready on the runway."

Hess turned, walked to the door and turned back. "Good bye, Hermann."

Göring examined some papers on his desk before crossing the room and taking Hess’

hand. "You were his only friend. You have a steadying effect on him."

"I know, Göring, but this is important. Melodramatic, but important. Wish me luck."

He did not answer. When Hess shut the door, Göring got on the telephone. "This is Field

Marshal Göring."

"I recognize your voice."

"You have the flight plan?"

"In my hand."

"When Hess is over the Channel, shoot the bastard down."

"Did I understand you?"

"You understood correctly."

OSS agent Antoinette (Toni) Vaughn disappears into Nazi Germany. Burgundy Girl Buy The Complete Version of This Book at Booklocker.com: http://www.booklocker.com/p/books/5249.html?s=pdf

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