Page 21 of Winter's End
“Yes, but you will likely have a choice of German officers to target. Choose someone who is already a bit drunk,” Mila said, “and spin your story slowly. Gain his confidence, and do not rush the moment. Let the German take the lead. Flirt with your eyes – yes, like that!”
She showed the girl how to hunch her shoulders to make the most of her cleavage.
“Play a little with the hairs on his hand,” she said. “Push out your lower lip – yes, like that. But do not invite him to come home with you until you sense that his – his lust to bed you is stronger than his sense of caution.”
Mila felt a pang of uncertainty. How do you teach an innocent girl to recognize the urgency of a man’s desire – or was it something she would naturally understand?
“You worry too much, Mila,” Evi said, as though she read her thoughts. “I will know what to do and when to do it.”
...
In the small living area, Lotte sat stiffly, drumming the fingers of one hand on the frayed arm of her chair.
Evi took her hand. “Mam, please try not to worry. Resistance men will be on guard, and I know precisely what to do. I will be home before you know it, I promise.”
Mila watched her young charge, who looked cool and confident in the low-necked dress she had chosen for her. Evi was far from big-bosomed, but the right brassiere and the right moves teased just enough to be enticing. In all, she looked older than her not-yet-seventeen – and Mila felt confident she had done everything in her power to prepare her for her assignment.
EVI
The tavern sat in a wooded area on the outskirts of the city, a dimly lit building between a shuttered grocery store and a row of dark and silent houses. Evi wrapped her shawl around herself, trembling as much from anticipation as from the cold.
They had arrived, to her complete astonishment, in a Royal Dutch Police vehicle driven by an officer who left them half a kilometer from their destination – amarechaussee, she thought. She did not see his face, but perhaps it was Lukas. She wanted so much to share that with Sophie, but she knew she dared not do so.
Behind her, two burly Resistance volunteers retreated into the woods, just out of sight of the tavern. Mila stood in the shadow of a giant fir tree. Evi waited for her signal.
Finally, in the silence, Mila held up a hand. Evi took a deep breath and moved toward the darkened back door.
It was smoky inside, and dimly lit, and Evi heard laughter and booming voices. She made her way to the curved bar, where there were several open bar stools. She chose one near the end, hopped up on the stool, and waved to get the attention of the pot-bellied bartender who was chatting with someone she could not see.
Taking a lipstick out of her purse, she went through the motions of applying it, willing herself to look down the length of the bar at the customers chatting each other up.
As Mila had promised, there were more than a few German officers laughing, toasting, and drinking. They were loud and brash, and mostly big, a few not much older than she.What if they paid her no mind?
The bartender appeared, narrowing his eyes, scrutinizing every part of her upper body. He wavered for a moment, his moustache twitching. She was terrified he would hear her thrumming heartbeat.
Hoping she looked calmer than she felt, she popped the lipstick back into her purse and looked directly at him. Finally, nodding as though he had made up his mind, the bartender spoke.
“Goedenavond,young madame. I have not seen you here before.”
She took the moment, sat tall in her seat, gave him her most convincing smile. “Alas, I am forced to try someplace new this evening. I will never go back to the tavern near thestadtspleinwhere I went with my cheating boyfriend.”
The bartender seemed to appraise her again. “Ahh…and what is your name,behagen?”
Her name! It was something she and Mila had not discussed. “Emma,” she blurted. “My name is Emma.”
The twitch of moustache. “Welkom, then Emma. You will perhaps make some happier friendships here. What may I serve you tonight?”
For that, she had been well prepared. “Amstel,behagen.” It rolled off her tongue. She smiled.
...
She was not prepared for the bitter taste of the beer, and it took every bit of will she had to choke it down without gagging. She ordered a second, and was fingering the glass, trying to figure out how to drink without swallowing when she felt a heavy presence behind her.
She turned to see a ruddy male face attached to a broad-shouldered body looming over her shoulder. He was dressed in uniform, but without his tie, an SS insignia on his collar. Evi forced a smile.
“Goedeavond,Fraulein,” he said in a mix of Dutch and German. “Is a beautiful girl like yourself unaccompanied?”
“Ja,”she said sadly, inclining her head, trying to determine his rank.
