The Bavarian Gate By John Dalmas

He stared at her in the darkness, feeling both dismay and desire.

“Your conscience is troubling you:”

“Yes.”

“If your Mary knew the situation we’re in, would she feel deeply aggrieved if … ?”

He knew the answer to that: She’d feel hurt, if she knew, but she’d also understand and forgive; before too long it would be almost forgotten. But would that excuse him?

He tried to make out Anna’s features in the dark. “Have you ever had a man?” he murmured.

Anna chuckled softly. “A man? When I was fourteen, there was my cousin Steffan, who probably weighed forty-five kilos. He was also fourteen, and had been seduced by a woman. His parents had a summer place in Pommern, on the Baltic coast, and that July we went there with them, Papa and Mama and I. On the second day, Steffan asked me to hike in the forest with him. I knew what he wanted of course, but it sounded exciting, so I went.”

She chuckled again. “In fact, we took walks in the woods each day for three days. Then our parents became suspicious. They didn’t accuse us of anything, but Papa and Mama and I went home early.” She sighed theatrically. “But have I had a man? No. Only a boy.” She giggled then. “Though I’m lucky I didn’t get pregnant.”

She slipped a hand inside Macurdy’s shorts then, and for a moment froze. “My God, Curtis,” she whispered. He turned and threw back the covers. She was naked, had pulled off her gown beneath it before she’d called him over.

And suddenly Anna was unsure. “I don’t want you to feel guilty,” she murmured.

He didn’t answer. He’d feel guilty all right; he knew it. But he would also make love to her. As he took off his shorts, she lay back, and crouching on the bed, he began kissing her.

After each had used the bathroom, Macurdy lay down on his pallet. Anna already lay curled in bed awaiting sleep. Where, he asked himself, was the strength of will he’d shown when he’d been married to Varia, and Melody had tried repeatedly to seduce him over the months? With Berta he’d been able to rationalize, and with Rillissa he’d had little choice, but he could easily have said no to Anna, and she wouldn’t have been upset with him. She’d even offered him grounds for refusing. Guilt. He felt enough of that, for sure.

So what now, Macurdy? he asked himself. What about tomorrow night? And the next? Another reason to complete this mission quickly. What were the benefits of delay? At best a few more underlings reeled in.

Abruptly he sat up. Call headquarters now, he told himself. Use the phone here. If anyone tries to stop you, kill them. Then answered, easier said than done. To support his Montag role, he’d deliberately brought nothing more than a pocket knife, in case they were searched. He could, of course, take Anna’s Beretta, if it came down to it. Pulling on shorts and trousers, he cloaked himself, then slipped barefoot into the hallway and down it to the living room. The phone table was by the day bed, where Bahn lay sleeping in flowered pajamas, the phone twenty inches from his head. Macurdy turned back down the hall to Hansi’s office, where he’d seen another.

By light from the hallway, he found the office light switch, turned it on, closed the door softly, and stepped to the desk. There by the phone was a thick file folder titled Operation Overlord (3). Was Operation Overlord the code name for the invasion? Reaching, he picked up the folder instead of the phone.

He’d hardly looked inside it when the door opened and Hansi peered in, Luger in hand, frowning uncertainly, not seeing through the cloak. Macurdy froze-and the folder tilted, papers spilling onto floor and desk. Hansi’s eyes widened.

“Montag!” he hissed. “What is this? You’re a damned spy!”

“Ja, fur Reichsfuhrer Himmler! There are reports you’ve been turned, that you gave away Captain Streicher.”

“You lie. Who would. . .” Hansi stopped in mid-sentence. “I know you!”

“That’s right.” Macurdy straightened, speaking American. “I’m the man who saved your life at Severtson’s camp. The friend who took you and your suitcase to the depot when you left Nehtaka.”