Page 33 of The Last Safe Place

“You’re right, of course.” He put his head on his hand, giving a picture of misery, which compelled Leonore to console him. “Believe me I know how hard it is, not to tell anyone what we’re really doing here, but if we want the mission to be successful, we need to strive for perfection in our cover story.”

Herr Seifert, who hadn’t said anything so far, gave a deep sigh. “I’m downright exhausted, never in my life would I have imagined that I’d have to learn so many strange new things at my age.”

“I don’t want to learn this stuff,” Herr Lange mumbled, barely audible.

“It really is a lot. The class about poisons was taxing, even for me.” Michaela said.

“The real Heloise would be so proud of you,” Leonore teased her friend, which earned her a glare, since Michi apparently hadn’t made peace with her code name. “Don’t remind me of her.”

“Well, at least I enjoyed the day. I loved everything we learned, starting with making explosives, using invisible ink, even the rather boring lesson about the Morse alphabet.” Leonore beamed with enthusiasm. “I’m looking forward to the practice of fighting techniques tomorrow.”

“Thank God, I’m exempt.” Herr Lange smirked. “First time in my life that I’m actually grateful for my missing arm.”

“A bit of self-defense wouldn’t be the worst thing to learn, given what we’re dealing with every day.” Herr Seifert surprised Leonore with this comment, and even more with his wink. “Or rather are going to deal with once we are deployed.”

Herr Lange finished his meal and excused himself, “I’ll retire to my room. I’m exhausted.”

“I’ll come with you. The training here might be a breeze for young people like Fräulein Nellie, but old men like us don’t have that kind of energy.” Herr Seifert got up, his shoulders sagging.

Leonore watched them leaving the mess hall, wondering how anyone was going to believe that these two tired, old men were becoming spies for the Reich.

“What about you? Want to go down to the library for a drink and a chat?” she asked Michaela.

“I’d rather not. I’m much too tired to keep up appearances. And as you mentioned, there’ll be fighting training tomorrow, for which I need to be well-rested.”

Lenore grimaced. She’d wanted to go and chat to some of the other groups training here, but didn’t want to go on her own. So she reluctantly joined Michaela. In their room, she fell into bed, looking forward to the adventures the next day would bring.

17

When they were woken early the next morning, Michaela felt shattered. Not even a night-long vigil at a patient’s bedside had ever exhausted her as much as the previous day.

Her head was still spinning from the intensity of the teaching. It was worse than before her state examination, when she’d had to memorize entire anatomy books consisting mainly of Latin terms.

By contrast, Leonore sprang out of bed with a sprightly bound. “Amazing! Yesterday was absolutely amazing. Are you as worn out as I am? And I’m so hungry! I hope they give us a proper breakfast. Do you think we’ll learn how to use guns, and things like that? That would be fantastic! The first thing on this morning’s timetable is radio transmission.”

“Nellie, stop!” Michaela covered her ears. “I’m not even awake yet.”

Leonore bit her lip and managed to keep silent for a full thirty seconds before continuing her cheerful chatter. “This is all so much more fun than working at the factory. Aren’t you excited for the break from routine?”

“To be honest, I’m pretty exhausted. My head feels full to bursting, like you wouldn’t fit the slightest bit more in.”

Leonore grinned mischievously. “As a doctor, you ought to know that the human brain is never full. We can absorb so much more than?—”

“Stop! Please. I need to wake up first.”

Leonore nodded with obvious reluctance and got dressed while Michaela dragged herself out of bed. “I’m getting old.”

“Don’t be silly. You’re barely forty. That’s not old. My grandmother died at ninety, that was really old.”

Michaela gave up. Shutting Leonore up was harder than giving a small child a dose of bitter medicine. She didn’t seem to mind that Michaela didn’t answer any of her questions and simply babbled on until they left the room. Outside in the hallway, she transformed from one second to the next into a different person.

In a grave tone, she said, “Today will prepare us a little more for our work for the Reich. For my part, I am very proud to have been chosen as an agent.”

Michaela inwardly rolled her eyes. Of course they were expected to act as if they genuinely had been recruited, but there was no need to over-egg it. There were already others in the breakfast room, instructors perhaps, or prospective agents.

Leonore spotted Herr Lange and Herr Seifert and steered Michaela to their table, where they sat next to a stocky man with a bright red face who was busy shoveling breakfast into his mouth. Her years of medical practice led Michaela to suspect heart disease and high blood pressure. For a moment, she wondered whether she might have something suitable in her medical bag, before she pulled herself together. She hadn’t come here as a doctor.

The stocky man introduced himself as Robert. “I am your communications instructor. That includes, among other things, radio messaging and microfilm.”