Aleksandra Page 15

  Aleksandra was amazed. "If he pulls the Panzers, the Red Army will have a chance at pushing back the Wehrmacht."

  "Exactly."

  The footsteps were close enough now they risked being caught. In unison, they said Freyja's name. With a quick burst of wind, the hall began to fade just as a tall blond man entered, his pale blue eyes speared Aleksandra's. She gripped Natalya's hand, which she'd managed to grab as soon as she felt the spiraling sensation surround her body, but instead of Asgard, they found themselves standing in the rocky outcropping where the men had left Aleksandra and Aleksei.

  "Did you see him? The blond man?" Natalya nodded. "He was the same one outside with the werewolf—and he saw me."

  Natalya's eyes widened. "Are you sure?"

  Aleksandra scowled and dropped her friend's hand. "Yes, and George is going to be furious when he returns and sees Aleksei isn't here with me."

  "Who are George and Aleksei?" Natalya asked.

  "Jakob and I came across a farm near Minsk. We arrived just after a German scout group and heard a couple of gunshots from inside the house, so we killed the remaining two guards. We raced in to help the family but found the man and woman already dead. There was a soldier draped over the woman's body, dead. Another soldier sat in the corner, holding a little boy, who looked to be about three years old. To save Aleksei, George killed his own brother, who was about to rape the woman."

  She swallowed, not wanting to remember the scene but knowing she always would. She would never understand how humans could be so cruel to one another.

  "I'm sorry, Aleksandra. Where is the child now?"

  "With Idunn, creating new memories in her garden. I don't want him to ever remember what happened to his parents." She leaned against one of the rocks. "I think George's attachment to the child is his way of trying to atone for what his brother had done—or tried to do before he killed him. I can't imagine killing my own sibling." Something touched her leg, and she glanced down. A nondescript knapsack sat between their boots. Curious, she leaned over and unzipped the main pouch. Inside, she saw quite a few wrapped brown paper packages. Her stomach growled. She hoped it was food.

  Natalya sat beside her, and Aleksandra scooted over, giving her a little more room on the rocky perch as she zipped the bag closed. Natalya moved it on the other side of the rock. "War is, indeed, hell. It is the reason why I continue to fight for Freyja—to end it and, for all the pain and suffering, have a better world." She raised her face, her eyes narrowing as if she listened to something then gave Aleksandra a reassuring smile. "The men are almost here."

  George came around the rock-covered hillside first and abruptly stopped, his grin turning into a confused frown. "Aleksandra, where is Aleksei?" Jakob, Mikhail, and Bernard came up behind him. Mikhail hurried to his wife's side and pulled her up into his embrace.

  "Don't worry, George. He is safe and away from here where he cannot be harmed."

  "How? You had no way of contacting anyone. Tell me where he is and who has him, Aleksandra," he demanded as she, too, stood. He stepped toward her.

  Bernard clapped the young man on his shoulder and moved around him. "Some things can't be explained, my new friend." He held out his hand to Aleksandra. "My name is Bernard Marchand, and you must be the beautiful woman Jakob refuses to talk about."

  Aleksandra threw a quick glance to Jakob, who scowled at Bernard's backside. She noticed a slight flush creeping up his neck and across his cheeks. She returned Bernard's wide smile and took his hand, giving it a single shake. "It's nice to meet you, Mr. Marchand."

  "Only Bernard, if you please," he said, letting go and stepping back to allow Jakob to enter their small circle.

  "I know the woman who is caring for Aleksei," Natalya said. "She is quite good with children. We often leave ours with her. The war will not touch the child there."

  Jakob frowned at Mikhail. "Since when do the two of you have kids?"

  "I found Adela and Julek in Lwów, Poland, after the Nazis took over the town and their parents were killed. On my way to Stalingrad, they refused to leave with Bernard and the other partisans.” He grinned down at his wife, "We've become quite attached and plan to offer them a permanent home with us after the war."

  "Oh, Natalya, Mikhail, that's wonderful," Aleksandra said. "You will both make terrific parents."

  "Not to interrupt, but we need to get back to Vilna." Jakob crossed his arms over his chest. "We made contact with one of the Jewish prisoners inside the ghetto. We had to agree to help him escape in exchange for the name of one of the FPO leaders stockpiling weapons in the hope of a mass uprising soon."

  "Did he mention Heydrich or his project?" Aleksandra asked.

  Jakob frowned. "No, he didn't. We knew the SS leader was on his way here to check on things, but that's the only intel our contact was able to give us."

  Natalya gave Aleksandra a quick look then turned to Jakob. "I was sent to see if I could discover more information and found out Heydrich has developed a new contraption, of sorts. I overheard mention of a better way to implement the Nazis’ final solution, whatever that is, and how to liquidate camps. I can only assume he meant the prisoner camps, like the ghetto you're talking about."

  "It's more than a ghetto," George added. "Hitler and his inner circle of men, Himmler, Heydrich, Göring, and others believe those who don't meet their Aryan standards should be terminated. This is their final solution—the complete extermination of the Jews, Romani, homosexuals, as well as all political prisoners."

  Aleksandra let out a small sob and covered her mouth with her hand. Her gaze flew to Jakob, who stood as still as a statue, his face expressionless, but his eyes held a turbulent rage. She knew Mikhail's family, like Jakob's, was in a French prisoner camp, so the stakes had doubled. "I think we now know what the poem meant by 'submissives'. We can't let this happen."

  She faced Bernard. "What do we do to stop this?" Bernard only shook his head and shrugged. She then turned to Natalya. "Can she help us?"

  Natalya turned her stricken gaze up to Mikhail's then back to Aleksandra's. "It's worth a try."

  Aleksandra glanced at the men, finally coming to a rest on Jakob. "Give me a minute," she said, grabbing the knapsack and walking a few feet away. She stopped just out of sight of the others and closed her eyes and inhaled, trying to lessen the building fear in her chest. Freyja, I know you heard everything. Please help us stop this. We can't let the Nazis kill these people because they are from a different culture or religion.

  Did I hear correctly? Freyja asked after a pregnant pause. You were talking about Reinhard Heydrich, weren't you? He's the man behind the new killing machine?

  Yes, that's the name both Natalya and I heard. Why?

  Because, Idunn chimed in, Reinhard Heydrich was supposed to die on June 4, 1942.

  How is that even possible? Aleksandra asked. How could you not see that?

  Unless I am searching for a specific person or event and following their timeline, I do not see the subtle changes, Freyja answered. I feared Odin was tampering with things. We now have that proof. Heydrich alive could create a true hell on Earth for all races. He is a psychopath and is without feeling or remorse. His thirst for power is bottomless.

  So, what are we supposed to do?

  I have a few spies in Odin's little harem. I'll check with them to find out about Heydrich. As for you, do whatever you must to stop the impending deaths because they will happen. Look into Ponary Forest and plan to help the prisoners there. Oh, and there are meat sandwiches and a couple packages of cheese for everyone in your pack. Idunn thought you may get hungry.

  Starving, actually. Tell her thank you.

  Hands came down on her shoulders, and Aleksandra jumped. Whirling around, she found Jakob staring at her, brows raised in question. "Sometimes I don't understand you. One minute you're right there in the thick of things and the next, you disappear, withdrawn and silent."

  She tried to shrug away his concern. "I internalize. It's how I think through
things, especially when lives are on the line."

  "Really."

  She met his flat gaze. "It's true. Ask Natalya. When we flew, I was the silent one, always listening and observing."

  "Is Aleksei really all right?"

  "Of course, he is," she said, a little taken aback at his abrupt question. "He's being cared for by a woman named Idunn—we've mentioned her name to you several times, along with Freyja's. He'll get to play in her beautiful garden, and she has small animals. She will spoil him rotten." She rested her hand on his arm. "He needs that after what he's been through. I would never do anything to harm that little boy, Jakob. You must believe me."

  "I do believe you, Aleksandra...more than you know. Now," he said as he turned to head back to the others. "We need to figure out what our next move should be."

  Picking up the bag, she followed, sitting beside him on the rock where she and Natalya had been earlier. Placing her pack between her legs, she opened it and pulled out the brown paper-wrapped packages and handed one to each person. Next, she unwrapped a hunk of cheese and broke it into pieces, handing those out as well.

  Chewing the sandwich as slowly as she could, she relished the combination of the creamy cheese and ham. She wasn't sure what the dressing was, but it tasted like a spicier version of mustard. Whatever it was, it was delicious.

  "We need to figure out what this new-fangled device is that Heydrich built. Maybe if we discover what it is, we can destroy it before it's used." Everyone stopped chewing and stared at her. Her eyebrows rose. "What? I thought it was a good idea."

  "It is," Jakob agreed. Seated next to him, George nodded his own affirmation. "We've known the camps use Zyklon B in the showers, but over the last few months, the leader of the partisan group inside the ghetto—name's Abba Kovoner—said a massive complex was being built in the nearby forest. It has five levels, and the floors, walls, and ceiling are made from five-foot thick concrete. There is a ventilation system, of sorts. It is nothing like he has ever seen before. The Nazis use the prisoners as slave laborers, uncaring that they are starving them to death. The bodies disappear somewhere in the bowels of the building. No one has seen the lower two levels and lived to tell anyone."

  "I've got a bad feeling about this," Natalya said, shaking her head. "A very bad feeling."

  Almost two weeks had passed. Eleven days of planning. Eleven days of mounting anxiety. The last thing he wanted was to hurt Aleksandra. She had changed him, and he struggled to keep his anger. To win this war and fight for his parents' survival, he needed that fury. Somehow, though, the beautiful Russian woman had managed to seep into his heart and destroy everything.

  "Jakob, I need your complete attention," Mikhail reprimanded him. He pushed the hand drawn map away from him and pointed to something.

  Peering closer, Jakob made out the forest and a simple circle several yards inside the tree line. "What is that?"

  "That's a Russian fuel depot that was abandoned when the Nazis forced out the Russians. The information has been verified from another man imprisoned in the ghetto. He's even provided more just from his limited interaction with the guards."

  "Are you talking about Samuel Amorov?"

  Mikhail nodded. "Samuel's health is failing fast. He's elderly but has a spirit—it's both humbling and refreshing."

  Jakob leaned back against the cave wall and crossed his arms over his chest. "You know we won't be able to find out where the gas canisters are or the ovens without getting inside. They don't allow anyone out who's entered that building. You also know the only way that's going to happen is if one of us infiltrates the work crew from the ghetto—before the Germans start pushing people through it. More and more prisoners are being shipped into the Vilna ghetto. Time's running out, Mikhail."

  His tall Romani friend grumbled under his breath and sat on a flat-topped rock, staring at the map with a frown. "There has to be another way. I refuse to risk you like that, Jakob. It's too dangerous. We need you and your skills."

  Jakob laid his palms on the tabletop and leaned forward. "I will risk my life for all those who have given theirs, my friend. I can do no less. Bernard is the catalyst for the partisan movement in this area. You are a husband and now a father to the children you rescued. I am nothing. I have nothing."

  Mikhail frowned. "You are much more than you realize, Jakob. What about Aleksandra?"

  "What about her? She is an amazing woman with incredible talents. She will make it through the war and do wonderful things for our new world."

  "You are blind, my friend. You need her as much as she needs you. You're just too stubborn to see it." He stood with a shrug. "If this is the path you insist upon, I won't stop you." Mikhail's dark brown gaze speared his. "But you had better come back. I count few people as my closest friends, and you are most definitely one of them."

  Shocked at the vehemence in his friend's voice, Jakob stared after Mikhail's retreating back, his thoughts turning to Aleksandra, and wondered if he might not be making the biggest mistake of his life.

  14

  Jakob reached through the small hole in the fence beside the building and took the bundle of clothes from Samuel Amorov's skeletal hand. The elderly man pulled away, but not before Jakob caught the tremor shaking the man's hand.

  "This was the closest to your size we could steal, Jakob. Are you certain you want to risk entering the new structure? Not one person who has gone in has come back out—not since construction began. A few of our spies have reported abysmal conditions. As many as four hundred die each day from starvation and no water. They are working my people to death."

  "I have to try, Samuel. It's the only way to find out what we need to know. If I can slow down or even stop the killing here, it will be worth any sacrifice I must make." He gave the elderly man as close to a smile as he could muster. "Besides, my friend, I'm heartier than I look, and I know how to stay out of sight." He couldn't help but hope what Aleksandra and Natalya said about this Freyja person was true because he was about to walk into a death trap and wasn't sure if he was going to survive.

  He desperately wanted to live—for Aleksandra.

  "Samuel, are the sewers still a viable way in?"

  The old man nodded and gripped the fence post between the barbed wire. "There will be a young man by the name of Ephraim waiting for you tonight. He will lead you in and make sure you will be with the next group of workers taken into the building. May Adoshem be with you, Jakob, because He is all you will have inside."

  Jakob laid his hand over Samuel's then pulled away, gripping the wadded uniform material with the same hand. "Know my friends are finalizing the plans for the revolt and should be done later this afternoon. I will relay everything to Ephraim so you can have your people prepare."

  Samuel nodded, determination written in each line on his face. "Tell them thank you—from Jew, Roma, Pole, Czech, and everyone else within these fences. No matter our faith or political position, we will all join the fight for our freedom. You can count on that, my young friend."

  With one last look, Jakob stuffed the clothing in his bag and walked back through Vilna to meet up with the others. They had all moved to the small cave he and Aleksandra had found, hidden high up and inside the forest. The Germans hadn't discovered them, although their patrols came close several times.

  He called out in their agreed-upon signal, the only bird call he could replicate. After waiting a few minutes, he continued the climb up the steep hill into camp. Dropping his bag just inside their hideout, he walked to the back and grabbed a mug, pouring himself a hot cup of coffee. The cave dropped back far enough they didn't worry about anyone catching the scent of their fire, food, or drink.

  He gulped the steaming liquid before pouring himself a second cup, knowing after tonight, he wouldn't be able to enjoy much of anything since the Germans were notorious for starving their prisoners. The others in his group entered the cave and sat around him.

  Mikhail poured himself a drink and took a few sips. "The local part
isans sent word they're ready to aid those inside the camp. Bernard and the rest of our men are already with them and brought much-needed weapons and ammunition. He's worried, though, and doesn't want you going in. Said it was too risky."

  Aleksandra's sharp glance in his direction wasn't a surprise. She had been just as vocal, trying to get him to change his mind.

  "Did you get the clothing?" Natalya asked, handing him a bowl of what looked like stew.

  He nodded, holding the stew under his nose and inhaled. "Smells delicious."

  Mikhail grinned. "Tastes even better. My grandmother's recipe. While you were gone, I managed to catch a decent-sized rabbit." He scooped a spoonful into his mouth and groaned then shoveled in another bite. "Haven't tasted this in years—missed it."

  Jakob caught the subtle squeeze Natalya gave her husband before trying to hand Aleksandra a bowl. She only shook her head and took a small biscuit from the skillet, but only picked at it.

  The moment he set his empty bowl on the ground, Aleksandra stood. "May I please speak with you outside?"

  He gave the others a quick glance then followed her from the cave. She led him down the hill then along an indistinct path leading farther into the forest. He loved the surrounding stillness; the only sound was the constant dripping of water into the nearby spring. There was beauty here as well, something he hadn't witnessed in a long time. Tall, elegant pines grew close to each other with little undergrowth, so it was easy to walk between the trees.

  His gaze moved back to the beautiful but angry woman standing in front of him. "If you're going to begin again, just stop. I am going inside the ghetto tonight and will be entering the structure tomorrow with the new workers."

  With a slight frown and worry-filled eyes, she crossed her arms. "There's nothing I can say to get you to reconsider?" She stepped closer—close enough for him to make out the bursts of gold through the brown in the center of her eyes. His fingers itched to touch her silky hair and soft skin. Everything about her called out to him. He didn't want to leave her behind, but there was no way around his mission.