Chapter 4: A Breathtaking Surprise

The Germans did not know where an Allied invasion might come, but they knew that their enemies were building up. Word had come down through intelligence channels that the Germans didn’t feel that the invasion was likely to come on the French beaches of the Normandy coast.

The Nazis were expecting the invasion to come at the port city of Calais. That’s why it was imperative that the Allies launch the invasion as soon as possible, before the Germans got wind of the real plan and reinforced Normandy.

Not only that, but it was time.

The build-up of men and equipment in England was breathtaking. The number of ships ready to carry the men across the one-hundred mile stretch of the English Channel made it the largest naval armada in history. Before the invasion, the skies would be darkened by the bombers and fighter escorts that would pound the German emplacements prior to the landing.

And the men? Well, the men were like a balloon that had been blown up to the point where it was about to pop. Nervous anticipation was palpable. Everyone was ready to finally take the fight to the Germans.

It was time.

Rain was beating against the window of Captain Calvin Taylor’s office. So, it was no surprise when his superior officer stuck his head and said, “Invasion’s off.”

June fifth was to be the day. The moon was full. The tides would be high, which would help carry the landing craft over the obstacles the German’s had dumped into the water along the coast. But not with the weather like this. The seas would be too rough.

There was no way around it—tomorrow’s mission had to be delayed. It was the worst possible luck, and yet, Cal felt a guilty sense of relief.

Erika hadn’t checked in with her contact on the train that was to take her south to safety. Did that mean that she was still playing double agent? Still in harm’s way?

His superior officer closed the door and proceeded down the hall to spread the word. Cal turned his attention to the photo on his desk of Erika. He knew her well . If there was still information to be gained, she wouldn’t leave, despite orders.

She would stay until she had what she wanted.

Calvin Taylor had the strongest suspicion that Erika Engel was still playing the part—still in a Nazi uniform.

*

There was something absolutely thrilling, almost orgasmic, in that moment when a rocket shatters the constraints of Earth and shoots skyward. It is that moment, that singular moment that caused Dr. Gerhard Volker to devote his life to the science of rocketry.

When he opened the door to his bedroom and found Erika leaning casually against one of the bedposts, naked as the day she was born, he felt like he was one of those goddamn rockets himself.

“I’m not . . . I—are . . .”

He heard his voice trail off and was powerless to make his tongue function in a way that might help him complete the runaway thought. She was breathtaking. Literally.

Some men are connoisseurs of fine wine. He’d always thought of himself a connoisseur of the female form. He appreciated the female form in the way that he suspected a great artist must. Not those hacks who paint the cheap nudes on the back of playing cards. No, a real artist who sculpts the female form, chiseling that beauty into the finest marble.

He was sure no artist had ever captured the astounding beauty that he was witnessing.

“I . . .”

She started toward him, her blond hair hanging over her shoulders, her firm breasts capped with pink nipples. Her legs were long and the mystery of what was nestled between them, showing just a hint, enough to make him feel lightheaded.

He tried to speak again but she put her finger to her lips, and he obeyed. He could hear the soft pat of her bare feet on the wooden floor and the beat of his own heart loud in his ears.

She unbuttoned his suit jacket—he was not the sort of man to be confined to a uniform—and found his inside pocket and the pack of cigarettes he kept there. She took one out. He fumbled in his pants pocket for a book of matches. She plucked the matches from his hand and lit the cigarette.

She turned and walked to the night table by the bed. She bent over to retrieve an ash tray. Her perfect ass was as if it had truly been carved from marble by none other than Michelangelo himself. Her legs were parted just enough to tease his imagination.

She took the ash tray, walked back around the bed and sat down on the end, her legs crossed, her breasts holding their immaculate form even when she leaned back on her elbows. She exhaled smoke into the air and asked, “Would you like to play doctor, doctor?”

She uncrossed her legs, letting the toes of one foot graze the floor as she gently swung her leg side to side, open and then closed. He looked from between them to those bright green eyes. She shook her hair away from her face and that’s when he spotted her left shoulder. It jarred him back into reality.

“I’m not that kind of doctor,” he said, adding, “But if I was, I would want to examine your shoulder. That’s a nasty bruise.”

She ran her hand over it and winced.

“And you’ve got a remarkably good German accent. Are you British? I would guess American. You’re too brash to be British.”

She tried to hide her surprise, but her body noticeably tensed; no longer languid and inviting. She sat forward on the bed.

“They came to me, of course, because all the girls have been out here. Most of them were willing to do whatever it takes to advance in rank, or at the very least just get away from this outpost and back to Berlin.”

He walked over and smoothed back her hair with one hand. With the other he caressed her thigh, running his hand down between her legs, letting it linger innocently there before bringing it back up. She was looking at him, barely even seeming to notice. He took the cigarette from between her fingers and took a long drag.

“You were different than the others. Now I know why. Did you find the information you are after?”

She turned her gaze to the window and an instant later he heard what she somehow had already noticed, the sound of a vehicle coming down the lane to the house.

“I suspect that when you didn’t return to your barracks, they decided to go looking for you and they must know that you’ve spent a good deal of time here lately, enjoying my company?”

She stood up and walked past him to the window. He stepped up beside her. The headlights of a big truck were illuminating the trees that lined the drive. He couldn’t help himself. He ran his hand down the small of her back, cupping a cheek of her exquisite ass in his hand. He had to fight to keep his composure.

“I’m just a scientist,” he said. “I’m not a card-carrying Nazi. I love Germany but I’m no monster.”

She turned quickly and fixed him with her eyes.

“You’re developing weapons to kill civilians.” Her German accent was gone, replaced by a curt British speak that was as delightful as it was angry.

“You don’t think the Brits are doing the same thing? The Americans? I can assure you that they are. It’s war.”

The truck was in full view now. It was a transport truck and he guessed there were a number of soldiers in the back, dispatched to make sure that his guest wasn’t looking to steal more secrets on this night.

He grabbed her arm, but she pulled loose.

“I’m not going to stop you,” he assured her. “It is war. You do what you can, and they do what they can, and I just try to build rockets. I can’t help you, but I won’t stop you either. Just tell me one thing, what is your real name?”

“My name is Erika. You have that right.”

“There are maid’s uniforms in the closet at the end of the hall. Put one on and I’ll try to distract them. Act like you are part of the staff. The rest is up to you.”

She dashed out of the room. He began looking for her clothes and found nothing, no German uniform and no civilian clothes either. Gerhard Volker left the room and descended the stairs. The soldiers had already entered his ‘borrowed’ home.

They were shouting orders. Someone asked him if he had any house guests. He didn’t have to try hard to look confused, because he was. What had she done with her clothes?

When pressed he said, “I’ve been here by myself all evening, except for my house staff and your guards.”

Off they went to conduct a thorough search.