Cold Lonely Courage (Madeleine toche Series Book 2) (6 page)

.

CHAPTER
FOURTEEN

From her position underwater, Madeleine could see the bright light of an overhead bulb shining on the surface a few inches above her mouth. Her training told her to remain calm. I might as well be at the bottom of a lake, she thought as she hung upside down in a tank of water. Her body was strapped to a board; she struggled to control her panic, trying to balance the terror that increased with her lack of oxygen. All at once, Madeleine was lifted from the tank. As she gasped for air, a man punched her in the stomach, driving the oxygen out of her lungs. Choking and gasping, she was dunked back under the water before she could get a breath. She tried to scream and struggled not to open her mouth. She threw herself at the straps pinning her to the board, thrashing violently, trying to get her head up. I’m not going to die like this, she raged in her mind, desperately thinking that she’d lost her chance at revenge. Her mouth opened, searching for oxygen. Death is easy, right? she screamed to herself, barely hearing the pounding of the blood in her ears over her fury.

Sliding into unconsciousness, Madeleine was pulled out of the water. She sputtered and gasped, sucking in huge gulps of air. Completely disorientated, she coughed uncontrollably, her body taking over as it raced back from near death. The door flew open and a tall officer stormed into the room.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, man? You almost killed her!” Captain Jack Teach yelled, moving quickly over to the board. His body was sleekly muscled from endless physical training and the harsh conditions of field operations. His blue eyes burned with anger, accusatory and enraged. He reached down to the slant board, slicing the straps that held Madeleine down with a knife that materialized in his hand.

“Following orders mate,” a beefy, dark-haired man said. “Keep them in until they break or pass out. SOE training, isn’t it? She’s a woman. There’s your problem,” Lieutenant Brian Fish answered in a swaggering, insolent tone, forgetting that the man he addressed outranked him.

“Get back, you bastard!” Teach screamed. Fish scoffed and moved a few paces back from the end of the tank. Madeleine stood slowly, bending as she retched water, holding onto the side of the tank to steady herself. As her coughing lessened, she turned her head slightly and peeked through the mass of wet hair covering her face. She saw a commando knife strapped to Fish’s side. Without hesitating she grabbed the knife and plunged it towards his eye. At the last moment, Teach grabbed her hand. Fish stood transfixed, his body rigid with panic. Teach slowly eased Madeleine’s hand down, removing the knife.

Teach looked at Fish in disgust. “Next time, I’m going to let it happen, you ghastly sadist. How about I strap you to that board and let her have a go at you?”

Madeleine raised her shirt to inspect the spot where she’d been hit. Teach glanced at what she was doing and saw the welt.

“I’ll have you, you bastard,” he roared and landed a giant right cross to Fish’s jaw. Fish rag-dolled to the ground and Teach followed him down with the knife, clearly not through.

“Stop!” Madeleine yelled. “This pig’s not worth it.”

Teach pulled himself off the man, backing away slowly. Madeleine watched as his eyes cleared and the violence left them. That was close, Madeleine thought. That man should be dead. Without taking his eyes off of Fish, Teach said, “You’re right, Toche. But I’m going to recommend him for duty in North Africa. I believe he’s an infantry man.”

Unable to speak, Fish pulled himself up, moaning and wincing.

“I bet you weren’t bloody moaning when you punched her, you coward. It’s combat for you. And by the way, when the 75mm shells come raining down on your position, you think about her. I bet she’ll be waiting if you get back. Your chances are shit. Now piss off. I hear one word about any of this and I’ll cut you up into little pieces. My father runs the docks. You’ll never meet a harder man. He’ll know what to do with you.”

A flash of terror passed over Fish’s face as he left.

Closing the door behind Fish, Teach turned towards Madeleine. “Toche, you can’t kill instructors,” he said, brushing the hair back from her face. His touch was firm and purposeful. Madeleine reached up to push his hand away, confused by Teach’s sudden compassion. There was no tenderness and mollycoddling in Special Operations Executive training, just countless hours learning to kill in every manner known to man.

After a fleeting moment Teach abruptly pulled his hand away. He stepped back, keeping his eyes on her. Madeleine looked down at her clothes, clinging to her as they dripped onto the floor. Placing her hands on her hips, she starred back, feeling a dangerous passion spark between them. She’d never seen Teach so much as glance at one of the other female recruits.

“I thought I was dead, Captain. It can’t be good to kill prospective field agents. Nobody will volunteer if they think they’re going to die before they get a chance to kill Germans,” Madeleine said.

Madeleine reached up to squeeze the water from her hair. Why is he looking at me like that, she thought, as Teach leaned back against the slant board.

“Well, right then. Time to get you back to the barracks and dried off. That’s enough training for one day. Frankly, Toche, I’m not sure there’s much more we can teach you anyway,” he said, his face breaking into a grin.

“Thank you, Captain,” Madeleine said, moving past Teach as she stepped into the hallway. That wasn’t part of the training, she thought, turning a corner. Certainly the way he looked at me wasn’t. But maybe I’m wrong. I can’t read the man. If he’s attracted to me, it won’t matter. All of this will be ending soon. I’ll either be sent to France or given a desk job in London. Either way, he’ll forget all about me.

Madeleine walked into the women’s barracks, pulling off her wet clothes as she approached her bunk. She opened the footlocker at the end of the bed and took out some dry fatigues. I won’t miss this place, she thought, glancing at the drab paint and concrete floor. I won’t miss their tests, either. I’d rather be shot than drowned again.

Checking her watch, Madeleine dug in her trunk for her cigarettes. Enough time for a smoke before dinner, she thought, heading for the outside door that that led to a small courtyard with a few tables and chairs. She flopped down on a lawn chair, running the incident with Fish and Teach back through her mind. Teach is handsome, and what was behind that look? She laughed sharply, I’ll probably never know, but now I have one more reason to hate the Nazis.

.

CHAPTER
FIFTEEN

Madeleine and the other trainees began to focus on the details of their cover stories and their specific assignments. They had been given their false identities and drilled concerning their individual missions. Those bound for the field concentrated on codes and radio operation. Their days were spent sitting in makeshift classrooms. Many of the prospective agents were French citizens. The others spoke fluently, having lived extensively in France, their accents authentic and thoroughly convincing.

Sitting in a group of recruits, Madeleine listened to an instructor explaining how to repair a radio in the field. Captain Teach walked into the room, entering from a side door. The instructor paused as Teach pointed to Madeleine and gestured for her to follow him. Madeleine noticed a few of the women watching him as he turned and walked out.

Once in the hallway Teach said, “I need to talk to you about additional training, Madeleine.”

“Did I fail somehow, Captain?”

“No, you did very well. Actually, you were given additional training. It was necessary to determine if you could carry out the mission we need to discuss. I think it’s better if we talk in my office and not in the hallway. It’s very important.”

“If I may sir, are we on a first name basis now?”

“Oh, right. No, we call all of the trainees by their last names. It’s just a way to maintain discipline. You’re past that now.”

Teach gave her a friendly smile. Madeleine kicked herself as she realized that she was just standing there staring at him. He seemed even better looking now that the bitter challenge of training was past. Or maybe it was because he knew what the new operatives were in for once they activated and were dropped into occupied territory.

“What’s my assignment?”

“We don’t know yet,” Teach said with an air of mystery as they approached his door. He held it open for her as she brushed past him.

“Please sit down,” he said, gesturing to a wooden chair facing his desk. The room was Spartan, consisting of a battered old desk, a telephone, and a second chair that didn’t look any more comfortable than the one she sat in.

“Madeleine, when you came to us you told us you killed an SS officer and the Gestapo agents on the
Valencia.
We’ve had our eye on you since the beginning. And now we’re certain you’re the right candidate. I wish I could be more delicate with that information but our jobs simply do not allow for it. Among the other recruits, only DuPont has killed before. So you can see why we might ask more from you than the duties of a standard field agent.”

“What do you want me to do? If it involves killing Germans, I’ll gladly do that. I don’t want to be a messenger or make coffee for the soldiers who fight. I am as capable as anyone.”

“I’m happy to hear you say that Madeleine, because what the SOE is going to ask you to do we can’t order you to do. It’s a bit outside of the rules as they currently are.”

“Rules? There are no rules for me. It’s against the rules to attack a country and enslave its people without provocation. Now, what do I do?”

“You seem eager. When you hear what I have to say, I’m afraid you won’t be quite so ready to jump into the fray.”

“Then just say it,” Madeleine said, firmly returning Teach’s stare.

“We want you to be a killer, Madeleine, an assassin. We need someone in each occupied country to kill the enemy directly. That will demoralize the command structure and put the bloody fear of the long reach of the SOE into their guts. Make them look over their shoulders and kill them when they drop their guard.”

“How many others will train with me?” Madeleine asked.

“None. Only you,” Teach said. Madeleine raised her eyebrows.

“I see. That doesn’t change my mind. I’ll do it,” she said.

“Then you’ll continue your training, but it’s a cold and lonely road you’ll be going down. Your only purpose will be to kill or, more specifically, to assassinate the enemy. Everyone else thought the job needed to go to a man. I disagreed. I said the job should go to the most qualified candidate, the most likely to succeed. I went directly to the Prime Minister to argue my case. He was intrigued and authorized the balance of your training. He was taken with the idea. He laughed and said, “Twas beauty killed the beast.’ Aside from the PM and I, everyone expects you to fail.”

“I won’t fail.”

“I know you won’t, Madeleine. You have a talent for violence but you need to control it. Gender is irrelevant to courage. I think you’ll be more successful than any man could be. You’re a beautiful woman, highly intelligent and resourceful. You’ll blend in among your countrymen. You’ll be able to move freely into and out of communities, pretending to be traveling to meet relatives or for employment. But you’ll have little contact with the Resistance agents or SOE field operatives. All of your instructions will come to you directly from London. You’ll kill strategically important targets, Gestapo, SS and command officers when their deaths provide a specific advantage to our operations.”

“When do I start?”

“Right away,” Teach said. “You’ll have only one instructor. His name is Bertold Hartmann. He can teach you everything you need to know. Do everything he tells you and pay close attention. What I’m going to tell you next is highly classified. I warn you though; he’s not like other men. I met him only once. I don’t believe there’s any humanity left in the man. He’s cold in a way that leaves no mistake as to his abilities and what he’s done. He’s a German Jew. A decorated soldier and spy from Germany’s World War One military regime. Germany hates Jews, regardless of their previous contributions to their country. He was rewarded with the internment and disappearance of his wife and children. He thinks they’re dead. So do we. We don’t know for sure, but we believe the Nazis are killing Jews by the thousands, maybe more. I’m afraid of what we’ll find out when the war is over. Hartmann spent the last few years revisiting old skills. Numerous high-ranking Nazis have disappeared. At first he did this on his own, with no support, but then he came to us when the war started. He’s been watching you and the others for weeks. He chose you, Madeleine.”

Madeleine looked at him and searched his eyes for an indication that he was exaggerating or having a joke with her. He’s serious, Madeleine thought. I’m being warned.

“When do I meet Hartmann, Captain?”

“You go to a public place tomorrow at two pm. He’ll contact you there.”

“How will he know where I’ll be?”

“Don’t worry. He’ll know, Madeleine. He’ll know,” Teach said, a sober expression on his face. “Now get some rest. From here on out, you’ll report directly to him.”

Madeleine stood up and left the room. As she walked down the hall she had no idea where she was headed. I’m going to be taught to kill Germans by a German, she thought. The world’s gone completely mad.

The next day Madeleine sat on a park bench in Piccadilly Circus. Despite the constant bombings, people bustled about. The wail of the air-raid sirens was familiar to her. They seemed as much a part of the city as the buses and old taxis that careened around, narrowly missing pedestrians and the odd horse cart, carrying supplies.

These people have suffered so much, Madeleine thought. Thousands were killed during the Blitz. But they’re tough. What a fool Hitler was to wage an air war against these people. England’s pilots and their spitfires proved that to be true.

For the hundredth time, Madeleine looked for the man she was supposed to meet. She sat on a bench that gave her the best vantage point. People passed her in every direction. Women hurried by, carrying packages of rationed groceries. More SOE tests, Madeleine thought, tiring of watching and wondering.

Maybe he’ll wait until I leave and surprise me from some dark corner. No, I’ll stay put and make him come to me, but he has the advantage. I have no idea what he looks like. Teach said he’d find me. I suppose he will.

As the hours dragged on, Madeleine thought about what lay ahead. At Churchill’s direction, disrupting the German war effort and creating maximum chaos were the two most important goals of the SOE. Set Europe ablaze, he said.

Madeleine watched the traffic thin out as people went home. There wasn’t much nightlife except for a pub tucked around the corner. When the door opened, she could hear the sound of patrons enjoying a drink. Blackout conditions were in effect. I guess everything is a target, she thought. Civilians are bombed indiscriminately along with military targets.

The street cleaners came out. Funny how even in the midst of the chaos of war, the orderly and proper life of the British continued, she noticed. Madeleine watched a lone dustman collecting garbage, moving away from where she sat. Soon he was out of sight and she forgot about him.

“You’re patient, I’ll give you that,” a hollow voice said behind her. The words lacked any inflection; an icy finger of fear flickered down her spine, hearing his heavy German accent.

Madeleine whirled her head around and saw a man standing behind her. He had materialized out of nowhere. She caught his eyes first and looked into a flat, bottomless pool. They seemed to lack any distinctive color as he looked at her, standing a few feet away. He couldn’t look more ordinary, she thought. He’s not tall, short, thin, fat, or in any way distinctive. But he does seem familiar. I must have seen him recently, if not today. So many people passed me on the street; maybe he was one of them.

“Where did you come from, sir? I know I’ve seen you before, but I don’t know when,” Madeleine said.

“Don’t you remember the policeman that tipped his hat to you, or the drunk sailor who stumbled into you and gave you a wolf whistle?”

“Those men were you? I hardly noticed them, but they couldn’t have been the same man.”

“Yes,
mademoiselle.
Those two and others. Hiding your appearance just takes practice. I’ll show you that, and many more things. But you already have the most important skill. The one that’s hard to teach.”

“What’s that?”

“I already told you, patience. Doing the things I’m going to teach you requires little physical strength or endurance. It’s mental strength that’s important. Killing someone is easy. After the first few it’s like turning off a light. The crucial things are preparation and flawless execution. If they catch you, they’ll torture you and kill you. Besides, it’s not cricket, as the British say, to murder. ‘Assassinate’ is a nice word, but you’ll be a murderer. Your targets will be defenseless, just like the people they killed or tortured. So maybe you can take some comfort in that.”

“My comfort comes from avenging the screams of my countrymen, the mangled corpse of my brother, and from God,” Madeleine said in a dangerous voice.

“I’m Bertold Hartmann,” he said. A faint smile crossed his face as he stepped around the bench and sat down. “When we’re done, your enemies will have no one to protect them. We’ll start tomorrow. We’ll meet at Baker Street Headquarters. Don’t bring a weapon. First you’ll kill with your hands and using ordinary objects. It’s not skill that kills, it’s knowledge. Skill comes with practice and is useful. Learning never to hesitate is the most deadly lesson I can teach you. When we’re finished, you’ll only be afraid of two people ever again.”

“Who?”

“Me,” he said without the slightest hint of boast or bravado. “You see, long ago I crossed over to a place I can’t come back from. I’ve done things I can’t undo,” he said, standing up.

“And who else?” Madeleine asked.

“Yourself,” he answered with a hint of sorrow as he walked away, disappearing into the night. Teach was right: the man was terrifying, she thought as she stood and walked in the direction of Baker Street.

Over the weeks that followed, Madeleine worked exclusively with Hartmann. It became clear to her that she was learning from a master. He shared secrets with her that were truly frightening. She learned by example and constant reinforcement, as she began to understand the mindset necessary to do the work he did. It would be solitary and frightening. His lessons always came back to the core theme of preparation. The actual act was never technically difficult, he told her. It had to do with precise planning so that she could get to her target. She learned that the more simple the details, the less chance for discovery.

Madeleine and Hartmann stood in front of a table in the basement of a country house tucked into a remote location north of London. Other recruits were housed in a converted guest house. Madeleine and Hartmann trained together, often sleeping outdoors, or inside the perimeter of a secure military facility. Every opportunity was taken to practice stealth and infiltration.

“The weapons on the table are standard issue in the German army. Break each piece down and reassemble them until you can do it in the dark. You might have to someday,” Hartmann said, picking up a compact machine gun, handing it to her.

“Is the ammunition for most of these the same?” Madeleine asked, removing the magazine.

“7.92 mm,” Hartmann said. “It’s standard for most rifles and machine-guns. But remember, if you’re caught with German weapons, they’ll just shoot you.”

“I’m sure I’ll get shot anyway,” Madeleine said, removing the barrel.

“Knowing you’re going to die makes you more effective,” Hartmann said. “It’s not reasonable to think that you’re going to survive every mission. Fear can paralyze men in battle. I saw it so many times during the first war. I got over it quickly in combat. That helped when I starting killing Nazis. The part that did scare me was when I realized that I was starting to like it.”

“Do you think that will happen to me?”

“I don’t know, but I don’t think so. That night I snuck into your room and held that straight razor to your throat, you reacted automatically. That showed me that your actions weren’t hampered by emotion. I was impressed,” Hartmann said.

“I just did what I thought I was supposed to do. I didn’t think about it.”

“I used to think about the consequences of what I was going to do and did it anyway. I’ve killed civilians, including women and children when they got in the way,” Hartmann said, concentration on the table. “I blew up an apartment building once. It was full of Nazi brass. There were children playing out front. I leveled it. I’m not confessing, I’m just telling you that you will be confronted with those situations and you’ll have to decide what to do.”