17. Tromperie
April 20, 1942
The gunshot rang out, deafening them temporarily. Emmanuel kept driving. She felt Nicolas grab her arm, but she threw all of her weight into her elbow and caught him in the jaw. The sound of his teeth knocking together filled in her ears, but she didn't stop. Swiveling onto his lap she brought her fists down, knocking him out with three hits. Blood trickled down his nose, the corner of his mouth, and coated her knuckles.
The car stopped and all four doors opened with guns drawn. They promptly lowered upon seeing both targets incapacitated. One man reached out a hand towards the doctor, checking for a pulse. "He's dead," he proclaimed and she heard a grumble rise up.
"He was going to shoot Emmanuel," she breathed, still straddling the colonel.
"Get him out. The order will want to see his body and hold it. Did you kill the colonel as well?" the man snapped at her, looking from her hands to the unconsious officer.
"He's just been knocked out." She climbed off his lap and into the cool night air.
"Good work, Agent Mahlon," Director Evans applauded her with a large cigar clutched in one hand. "One out of two ain't bad." He wouldn't reprimand her. He would leave that to his brother back over the lines.
She tried to smile, but couldn't. "Thank you, sir." Her voice came out with a severe lack of emotion that didn't go unnoticed.
"Cuff him," Director Evans ordered the two men at his side. "Put him in the front seat." She could see three military vehicles in the distance rumbling towards them. "Harriet pulled through. We shouldn't have many obstacles from here to the American lines. You did good, you should be proud." He pulled her in for an awkward side hug.
"I terminated the targets," she said in the same frigid tone as before.
He grinned at her, hugging her tighter. "I knew you would, kid," he praised, but she didn't feel anything. "I'll have Emmanuel drive you both."
"Non," she said a bit too quickly. "With all due respect, sir, I'd like to finish my mission myself." She spoke slowly, unsure herself if she really wanted to be tasked with driving the colonel over the lines and handing him to the Americans.
Director Evans seemed to mull over her offer, considering her for a moment. Genevieve had never given him reason not to trust her. In all her years as a Ghost she had never once failed a mission. Not once. "If that's what you want," he relented and motioned for Emmanuel to toss the keys to him. "Here. You'll follow in the rear, we can't afford an ambush taking him back. Harriet will lead with the trucks, stay close." With that, he walked back to address the others while she got situated behind the wheel. The colonel was cuffed to the door, mouth open, and breathing deeply. She averted her gaze, not wanting to dwell on him too much.
The agents began to spread out, loading into the trucks. The rumble of the engines indicated for her to start the car. They started off, following the trucks as Director Evans had instructed her to do. The gate had been opened wide, ready for their escape.
The car rolled over the bodies of the soldiers, bumping up and down as it went. Nicolas's head knocked against the window and he snapped up. She kept quiet, still driving, as he came to his senses and rattled his cuffs. He looked over at her, a look of panic mingled with betrayal.
"What are you playing at?" he growled, pulling harder at his cuffs.
"Don't." She warned him, but he kept tugging. She pulled out her gun, aiming it at his head. "Please don't," she repeated through clenched teeth.
He stopped struggling, instead taking in his surroundings to see where they were. "You're making a mistake," he said with frustration evident in his words.
"No, I really don't think I am," she scoffed, keeping pace with the trucks.
"You have no idea what you're doing," he argued.
"On the contrary, Colonel Roemheld, I know exactly what I'm doing." She didn't dare look at him again. She couldn't risk him seeing an ounce of regret on her face, not when it was too late to do anything.
"I'm not German, Genevieve." He said clearly, staring right at her. His accent dropped into one she didn't recognize immediately as his own. "I'm Scottish." She had to do a double take to see that it was indeed the colonel that was speaking in that heavy dialect. "I'm Scottish, Genevieve."
She shook her head, continuing down the road. "What do you mean?" She asked just above a whisper. "What do you mean!" She shouted when he didn't answer.
"I'm a spy! A spy!" he shouted back. "I'm from the 15th Scottish Regime," he said, suddenly out of breath.
"You're lying," she decided, driving.
"I'm not." She felt her flesh sear where his line of vision bore into her.
"I've seen you execute an entire street of civilians." She scowled at him, turning where the trucks did. He didn't say anything, instead staring straight ahead in the distance as if he was lost in thought. "You've absolutely terrorized me beyond reason, you've dined with Hitler for Christ's sake!" Her voice shook despite her attempts to appear unphased.
"I know what I've done," he said in a solemn tone. "I have made every decision, and executed every order I was given, with the utmost sagacity. We all have to commit some form of necessary evil in our line of work, wouldn't you agree?"
Genevieve scoffed, shaking her head. "You'd like to believe that wouldn't you? Would that make you feel better? Would it make it easier for you to sleep at night knowing that someone else has committed atrocities the way you have?" The trucks turned once more, heading towards a long tunnel.
"Those people were going to be tortured in that district. They were talking about it at the base about taking the women and using them in Broehm's sick experiments. The children would have been experimented on or worse. I moved my men in there without clearance, before Himmler or Broehm could hear of it. It was a mercy." His words chilled her to the bone. Quiet idiot! We aren't supposed to talk about it. The soldiers at the cafe hadn't been trying to keep just the civillians from hearing of their assignment, but the other Germans as well. "I can prove it."
"What?" she checked, coming back to her current state of affairs.
"I can prove that I don't work for the Germans," he stated calmly. "Don't go in that tunnel," he instructed her.
Her foot eased off of the gas pedal out of instinct. "What are you talking about?" The first truck was nearly at the entrance, keeping a steady speed.
"I wasn't able to pick you up tonight because I was inside that tunnel," he explained. "Don't go in there," he ordered more forcefully, sitting up in a panic as they neared it. "I set up explosives that are set to detonate any moment."
She took her foot completely off the gas. "Why?" She didn't know if she fully believed him or not.
"Because I set up the same explosives in the tower when I said I was checking security measures." He turned to her then, looking deep into her eyes and something in her clicked. "Tonight, Adolf Hitler threw a birthday party and invited his three friends whose death can end the war. Any moment now the bombs will detonate and the tunnel will collapse. It is the main route that reinforcements would take."
"How can I trust you?" She felt a lump forming in her throat. Part of her wanted to take him at his word and leap out to warn the others to stay back, but the other part of her knew Nazis were expert liars and manipulators. It wouldn't be hard to falsify his Scottish claim just to confuse her.
The first two trucks were in the tunnel, the third just a few car lengths in front of her about to enter. It was her turn next and she couldn't help but feel a bit anxious. "Don't do it," Nicolas pleaded, tugging at his bonds once more.
"I have orders to follow," she said through tight lips.
She heard him sigh, and without warning, he lifted his foot from the floor and brought it swinging around into her gut. She lurched forward, the air spewing out of her in one long breath. She swerved, the car smashing into the side of the tunnel's entrance. The metal crunched into the stones as her head collided with the steering wheel. Everything went blurry for a second as she blinked away her dizziness.
A soft groan left her lips and her head throbbed. "W-wh-" She was cut off by a low rumbling behind her. "Oh my God." The words left her lips in a whisper. The ground shook beneath her feet, the car vibrating, as the rear view mirror showed the enormous orange glow in the distance at the base of the Eiffel Tower. Her mind sharpened all at once and she jumped out of the car, leaving him bound to the door, as she raced to the entrance and shouted as loud as she could, "Fall back! There's a bomb!"
Her words fell on deaf ears. The sound itself nearly crippled her. The explosives went off, dust and debris whooshed by her and knocked her to the ground. "No!" she screamed as the explosion swallowed her colleagues whole. The tunnel collapsed all at once, blocking her way and trapping her on the side with the Nazis.
She felt the hot tears cascading down her cheeks in salty rivers. "Genevieve!" She barely registered Nicolas calling for her. "Genevieve!" he repeated louder, slamming his body into the door to get her attention.
She stumbled back over the rubble and ripped open his door, causing him to flop out still attached to it. "You have to cut me loose," he said quickly. "Before reinforcements show up."
She blinked. "You set the bombs," she muttered robotically.
Nicolas nodded, half bent over to keep his hands close to the door. "Yes. I killed them. You need to cut me loose. Now!"
His shift in volume made her flinch. "But, if you're really working for the Scots, then it won't matter if they catch you or not. You'll be exonerated of all crimes you committed, just as I will be," she argued, careful not to fall into a trap. Everything felt wrong.
"No. You're wrong." He shook his head, visibly growing frustrated with her lack of trust. "I'm what they call expendable. You have to trust me, I know I haven't given you reason to, but you have to listen to me."
"You've done nothing but lie to me since I met you. Why? You killed my friend." A new wave of sadness washed over her.
"Hilda? She's alive. You can see for yourself if you uncuff me." She furrowed her brows. He took a deep breath, sensing she needed more than that. "I sent her to Scotland after I interrogated her. Once I found out who she was working for, I couldn't have her killed in all good conscience. I switched her with one of the prisoners who had already been beaten beyond recognition. I simply told the firing squad that I had done it to her. The woman was so damaged she didn't even register her execution. It was a mercy killing if anything," he told her. "Look at me," he said with urgency, but she was staring into the distance, awaiting any sign of their impending arrest from the Germans. "Genevieve, look at me!"
She snapped her eyes to his. They were wide with fear. "You have to uncuff me. I'm not some soldier that volunteers to serve his country. I'm the kind of person they give the option of servitude or death too. I was arrested for killing a commanding officer during my service. It was an accident. We were both drunk and he pissed me off. I didn't realize how hard I hit him until...until they pulled me off. They made a redemption deal with me and I took it." Genevieve couldn't tear her eyes away from his. The thunderous hammering in her chest made his voice sound far away, but she heard every word he said. Heard the newly established cadence of his speech. "If I failed they were going to have me killed to keep their hands clean, plain and simple. They won't come for someone like me. If you turn me over to the Americans they will do nothing but torture and kill me, and Scotland will stand by silently to keep up their appearances."
Genevieve wiped her eyes with her sleeve. She hadn't realized how much she had been crying. "Were you going to let me die in the tower?" She had to know. A vermilion glow behind them was all that was left of the national landmark.
"No. I was never going to let that happen," he promised and frowned. "I was looking for you. I didn't know where you went, but I knew I had to find you before they went off. I was supposed to be long gone, running east to a safe zone, but I wouldn't leave without making sure you made it out of the tower."
"Why not?" she pressed.
He opened and closed his mouth before sighing resolutely. "I don't know, honestly."
She laughed without humor. "It appears I was more of a distraction to you than any of us bargained for. The order will be pleased to hear that. You may earn me a promotion." She sniffed, not meeting his gaze. "I had to bleach my hair to fit the image of what they believed to be your ideal woman. It's ironic, wouldn't you say?"
"How so?"
"You were sent to do the very job that I was sent to do, and yet I was sent to distract you from pulling it off. Makes you wonder if someone knew. Hilda," she wouldn't release Belle's name, "overheard a German operation for distraction. Makes you wonder." She pushed her hands through her hair, trying to gain clarity.
"Genevieve," he called her name, trying to rouse her from her thoughts.
"You hurt me. Broke into my house." She shook her head. "Raped me."
Nicolas rattled his cuffs, earning her burning eyes on him once more. "I thought for sure it was going to be the last time I ever saw you. I wanted to scare you away. I wanted to make you see the danger and...I shouldn't have done it. I know that there isn't anything I can say to make that decision of mine disappear."
"You hurt me!" she screamed, stepping closer to him.
"No!" He looked pained. "I was trying to save your life and frighten you away!" She stopped walking, taken aback. "Do you think I send every agent I come across back to Scotland? I've killed more than my fair share of spies, all to keep my cover so I could pull off this night. I sent Hilda back, because I knew if I didn't then she would have exposed you. She was breaking, Genevieve. I stepped in to finish her questioning and she was breaking. I didn't believe for a second that she was working alone. And I sure as hell didn't believe that you weren't involved. I sent her away and made it look like she was killed so I could keep you safe," he said with such a deep sincerity that she felt the lump in her throat start to make it hard to swallow.
"Her name wasn't Hilda," she muttered.
"She can testify to everything I am saying. She's staying at the French embassy. You can call and check if you like, but I'm begging you to cut me loose first." When she didn't move he slumped against the door. "I shouldn't have hurt you," he breathed. She flicked her eyes up to his. "I don't know why I did it. I was supposed to arrest you and bring you in. That's what was expected of me when Hilda cracked. Whether she named you or not, I should have arrested you, but I couldn't. I knew what would happen to you if you were taken in. I've seen it myself. I guess I just wanted to be with you one last time in case the Gestapo came pounding on your door. I'll never forgive myself for that selfishness."
She pulled the gun she was carrying and aimed it at his chest. With her free hand, she produced the keys to his cuffs and tossed them perfectly into his waiting palms. "Hurry up," she said through gritted teeth. He fumbled with the lock at first, but soon she heard the tell tale sound of the cuffs opening and clinking against the door. The gun was still trained on him, warning him not to make a move.
"Get the hell out of here," she ordered.
"Genevieve, I don't know what to say to you right now." He took one step towards her with his hands raised innocently.
"Stop!" she snapped and he listened. "Don't come near me." She meant for it to sound intimidating, but it came out in a small squeak laced in grief. Her very mission was centered around his capture. The doctor was dead, Hitler was dead, Himmler was dead, all that was left was to bring him in. She had never failed a mission before. He took advantage of her inner battle and lunged at her. She turned with the gun, ready to shoot him in the leg to keep him at bay, but he was quick. With one swift movement he bent her arm back, aiming the gun at the sky, and forced her hand open. She winced, trying to keep hold of it with her fingertips, but his grip on her arm was bruising. "Fuck!" She grimaced, dropping the weapon. It fell into his hands and he wasted no time in emptying the bullets into the dirt and tossing it aside. She leapt at him, but he parried to the side and grabbed her wrists, pulling them behind her back and shoving up until she felt her arms would snap under the strain. He paused and just held her there for a moment. He wasn't trying to hurt her, or take her, he was just holding her.
Genevieve felt a sob rack through her body. She felt bested, and she never felt bested before. He released her slowly and stepped back. Before she could form a proper strategy, she whirled on him and caught him in the jaw with her right fist. "You fucking liar!" she cried, hitting him over and over. Nicolas didn't try to defend himself. He let her hit him from every angle until he was knocked onto his back. His nose began to bleed, mingling with the dried remnants of black crimson from her previous assault, and he rolled to the side to spit out a gob of red. "You fucking lied to me!"
"And you lied to me!" he screamed back in her face when she got on top of him, not relenting and driving another blow to his cheek. His words halted her for a moment. He grabbed her hips, using the pause to flip her onto her back and pinned her hands above her head. "Enough!" he barked as she struggled.
She let herself give in to the hurt in her chest. The tears flowed freely, and she couldn't control the audibility her betrayal held. It was a long time coming; her cry. She felt him pull her up into an embrace, and she melted into his chest as she sobbed openly. "Shh." He smoothed her hair with his fingers, stroking the back of her head comfortingly. "Shh." An unfamiliar tenderness.
The sound of approaching vehicles made them both stop. She gasped, pulling away and turning in the direction of the cars. Headlights in the distance were mere pinpricks, but they'd be there soon. "Go," she said.
His brows knit together and he reached out to cup her face. "Genevieve..." He looked into her eyes with such profound adoration that she forgot how to breathe. Nicolas leaned in, his lips parting, but she flinched back.
"Wait!" she shrieked. She brought the back of her hand up and wiped away the red lipstick, scrubbing the remnants with the hem of her gown. "Okay." She grabbed him around the neck and brought him down, their lips crashing together hungrily. He knew it would be the last time she would ever see him. The headlights drew nearer. She felt him pull her closer, one hand on her back while the other stroked her cheek. Her tears spilled over their kiss.
He broke through her bliss and pulled away sharply, hurriedly. "I have to leave," he breathed, resting his forehead on hers.
"I know," she sobbed quietly. "Take this." Standing to her feet, she went to the car and pulled a spare gun from beneath the driver's seat, handing it to him. "You'll have to shoot me."
"What?" His eyes widened. "I can't do that!"
"Just a flesh wound," she reasoned, pressing him to listen. "No one will ever believe that I let you go without receiving some serious injury. I wouldn't give up otherwise." She cocked it for him, pushing it into his hands. "Just do it." The headlights were getting closer. It wouldn't be long before backup was pulling up. "Now!"
He closed his eyes and steadied his breath. She opened her mouth to shout at him again, but he pulled the trigger. She fell back, her hand going to her side as blood began to trickle out and soak her dress. Red on red. He knelt over her, tucking the gun away. "Its only a minor wound. It'll hurt like a son of a bitch for a few days, but you'll live. Here." He took off his coat and pressed it to the wound. "Keep pressure on it. If they get here, tell them I shot you while escaping. If its Germans, tell them you were shot by the Americans and I was taken. Either way, you'll be safe," he told her what she already knew.
She winced, the pain overpowering her senses. "Run!" she managed through clenched teeth.
He stood up slowly, not wanting to leave her side it seemed. "I love you." If she hadn't been laying so still in the middle of the road, she would have missed his words. They were whispered, blowing away in the wind as he sprinted towards the forest, but she knew what she heard.
Her mouth went to form a reply, but she couldn't. He noted her silence with a solemn bow and disappeared into the night. She breathed out shakily as her vision began to darken.
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