Page 38 of A Song in the Dark

Rick shook his head. Focus. Tonight was about understanding where the SIS could infiltrate and sabotage railroad lines .

He tapped his pencil against the map. What was wisdom in a situation like this?

On one hand, being able to derail large sections of Germany’s railway would halt the Nazis’ ability to spread troops, supplies, and weapons.

It would give Britain, France, and any other allies the opportunity to pounce on—and perhaps subdue—the Wehrmacht.

The Nazis would be in trouble without their powerful armed forces.

However, the train was also the main way Jewish families were fleeing Germany into surrounding nations.

He clicked off the torch and rubbed his eyes.

He needed sleep. Everything was beginning to blur together.

He grabbed his small Thermos and poured a cup of black coffee.

Perhaps a jolt of caffeine would do the trick.

A few minutes later, he pulled his cap on and grabbed his small notebook, pencil, and torch. Time to inspect the area.

Grass whispered under his feet as he followed a small dirt path toward the single building. It was simply constructed. No platform, only three stairs to the door. But the moonlight illuminated a worn path from the door to the tracks. So this depot was well used.

He waited five minutes, listening for the rustling of grass.

The crunch of boots on gravel. Anything that might alert him to the presence of someone on the premises.

When all he could hear was the whisper of wind, he clicked on his torch again and made some notes about the size of the building, the number of windows, and access points.

He rounded the corner to the west side of the building and spotted another building deeper in the woods.

It was at least two times the size of the depot.

Rick glanced over his shoulder, then back to where the building was. The depot seemed to block the view of it from the road.

He slid his notebook into his pocket and turned off his torch.

It looked like there was another slim, well-worn path from the back of the depot into the trees.

A warm breeze rustled the trees, and Rick paused.

Was that the snap of a branch? He made it a few more paces when all the hair on his arms stood up.

Someone was behind him.

Slowing his breaths, Rick slipped his hand into his jacket and pulled his gun from the holster.

The footsteps weren’t hurried, but purposeful. Rick counted to five and then whirled around. “Drop any weapon you have, or I will shoot to kill.”

The figure paused, both hands going up. Rick locked his gaze on the shadow, his fingers tight on the handle of his gun. Please help, Lord. I don’t want to have to shoot this man.

“A blessing on the fallen brave!”

The figure’s words were a whisper on the wind. Yet Rick caught the smooth and cultured British accent.

And the code phrase.

The tension eased from Rick’s shoulders. “Those who fought with Wellington.” He lowered his weapon as the man came forward.

“Agent Zimmerman, you are a difficult man to track down. I commend you.” He held out a hand. “I am Agent Fairsworth, and I’ve been sent by Trumble.”

Rick holstered his gun and gave him a handshake. “I just heard from him yesterday. Has something changed?”

Fairsworth folded his arms over his chest, his expression difficult to discern in the darkness. “A great many things. You and I were sent on the same mission to determine which railways and depots to sabotage, yes?”

At Rick’s nod, the man continued.

“The prime minister, with support of the cabinet, has now decided to work with Hitler and allow him to annex the Sudetenland. The deal should come to fruition in the next few months. We are two of only a few agents outside of the cabinet who know it’s coming.”

What ? Rick rocked back on his heels, trying to absorb what he was hearing. His government, the British prime minister, was capitulating to Hitler? “Why?”

“From what I understand, there is great hope that if Hitler gets what he wants with Czechoslovakia, he will stop throwing a temper tantrum and allow the rest of the world to live in peace.”

The scoff escaped his lips before he could stop it.

“You know that’s not true. Just look at what he’s done to this country.

To its most vulnerable people!” He shoved his hand through his hair, knocking his cap to the ground.

He snatched it up and smashed it back on his head.

“What on earth is Chamberlain thinking?”

Fairsworth straightened and poked Rick in the chest. “It is not for us to question what the prime minister chooses to do. Right now we have a new mission vital to ensuring Hitler sticks to his word. Are you in, or are you out?”

Rick’s face burned. Spending time with Chaisley and Melanie had made him too bold in his opinions. Good soldiers, good spies, only had one purpose—to serve the good of their king, country, and government. “I am in. Forgive my lapse of judgment.”

“No forgiveness needed. Now. Listen closely. We know that Germany did not abide under the restraints of the Treaty of Versailles. They’ve rebuilt their military power, munitions, and communications.

While other agents are working on deciphering how the Germans are using wireless communications, we’ve discovered they are running thousands of miles of cable across the country. ”

Thousands of miles of cable? Rick closed his eyes. How on earth were they supposed to track that?

Fairsworth must have sensed his exasperation because he let out a laugh. “Daunting, I know. However, I have worked a source—mid-level in the Heer. He is looking to escape Germany in the next few months. I’m trying to talk him out of it. His information has been excellent thus far.”

He leaned against a tree. “There are communication clusters in railways and depots like these, where they center telecommunications. If those clusters are tampered with or cut, it impacts huge areas throughout the country.”

Ah. Well, that was certainly more doable than what he’d been imagining. “So what is my assignment?”

“When you can, escape the pianist in the middle of the night. I have a coded list of several railway depots where these communication clusters might be. My contact was certain that at least seventy-five percent of these depots are hubs.” He handed Rick an envelope.

“I’ve decoded half of them for you—find and examine, then sabotage whatever you can. I’ll take the other half.”

Rick took the packet and slipped it into his jacket pocket. “When do we start?”

Fairsworth smoothed his hair back and glanced at the sky.

The clouds were clearing, moonlight streaming through the branches of the trees.

“As soon as possible. I’ve already disabled the communications in the big building behind us.

So one down. Hundreds to go. We know that Frappier is slated for another concert in Berlin.

It appears Hitler has taken quite a shine to her.

Perhaps that distraction can play in our favor.

We have a man on the inside there as well, so you would be free to slip away. ”

Rick’s throat went dry. The thought of Chaisley becoming a pawn in Hitler’s hands ...

But he couldn’t object. He’d already crossed the line once. If Fairsworth found out he had feelings for his assignment, who knew what would happen to him. Being pulled from his mission would be the least of his worries. “Sounds good.”

As Fairsworth pushed away from his nonchalant position, his features were illuminated for the first time since he’d surprised Rick in the woods. He looked every inch the British aristocrat. Older than Rick, fine featured, thin nose, pale skin. Arrogant twist of the lips.

Rick had met his fair share of Fairsworth’s kind during training.

“I’ve heard excellent things about you, Zimmerman. Despite your unfortunate German heritage, you are an exemplary agent.”

Nice backhanded compliment. Almost sounded sincere. “I appreciate it, sir.”

Fairsworth clapped Rick’s shoulder. “Take heart. If all goes as it should, Hitler will have his land. Chamberlain will have a victory. And the world will have peace.” He gave Rick a lazy salute and then turned on his heel, melting back into the woods.

Rick fell back against a tree, trying to process everything the other agent had revealed. He loved being a spy. He loved Britain. Supported his government.

Usually.

But his original question came back to haunt him. What was the British government thinking? Did the prime minister truly think that Hitler would lie down and play nice if they gave him another piece of the world?

Everything Rick witnessed in the last few months suggested otherwise.

The thousands and thousands of families who had their children ripped from their arms would also disagree.

And German Jews, who loved their country but were losing their homes and livelihoods with increasing rapidity, knew better than anyone that Hitler wouldn’t be appeased with some power.

He wanted it all.

Rick pushed away from the tree and made his way back to the car.

Tossing his supplies back in his sack, he sat for a moment, hands on the steering wheel.

He would look at the list of sites when he made it back to the hotel.

Hopefully he could integrate a few of the locations into delivering children to Chaisley’s grandmother.

Chaisley.

He let out a groan and rested his forehead on the wheel, resisting the urge to bang it against the hard metal.

How on earth could he keep news such as this from her?