Page 25 of Winter's End
“But it is. Some of the casual intelligence you have gained and shared with us has been more useful than you know.” He paused. “Among other things. it has helped us to blow up a German storagefacility, raid a stock of Nazi radio equipment, and commandeer more than one hidden store of food or supplies.”
Mila offered a wry smile. “It is the least I can do, given that my father, willingly or not, is collaborating with our German enemies…”
“We all do what we must.” Pieter shrugged. “And despite my misgivings, your scheme at the tavern the other night was a brilliant success. How is the girl? Is she willing to repeat, do you think?”
“I hope so. I will talk with Evi tomorrow. I think she may have been a little – overwhelmed. But she is strong-willed and committed, and I am hopeful she has been able to overcome her misgivings.”
“Good,” Pieter nodded. “It is a small-scale operation and it must remain so, but worth the risk, I think, for the uniforms and identification papers.”
“I hope Evi decides so as well. And her mother.” She sighed. “I only wish there was more I could do!”
Pieter leaned forward. “I hoped you would be thinking that, Mila…because it seems perhaps you can, if you are up to the risk.”
She looked up.
“You were an art major in school, were you not?”
“I did some drawing, yes, mostly fashion…”
“The Allies have determined that the Germans are building more than just a new defensive line in the north. There is construction going on all along the coastline – machine gun nests, observation points, and more. We have been asked by the British to provide a map of the installations. But we need to get close enough to do so.”
Mila listened.
“If we can send such a map through channels, we have reason to hope for a strategic raid by England’s Royal Air Force – possibly even on German submarine facilities, which would severely cripple their nautical abilities.”
She was unsure how she could help.
“Access anywhere near those military zones is highly restricted, as you might imagine, Mila – and to create even a rudimentary map wouldtake an eye for detail, a practiced hand – and enough charm and quick thinking to maneuver past the SS guards.”
She cocked her head.
“It is a dangerous task, Mila, with no less risk than you have assigned to Evi Strobel. You cannot be caught red-handed sketching behind enemy lines – and I am not sure how, or if, we could help you should you need it. But you speak excellent German, your background as an art student makes for plausible cover, and you are a beautiful woman with a proven talent for captivating officers of the Reich.”
Mila was speechless.
“You would, of course, carry forged papers,” Pieter said. “And we can provide you with drawings of the pre-war installations. You can study them as the baseline from which to work if you choose to do this.”
Mila thought for a moment. It was indeed not any more dangerous than what she had asked of Evi.
Pieter did not press her.
She took a moment. “I cannot promise I can manage this, Pieter. I can only promise to do my best.”
He nodded as though he expected nothing less. “Are you certain?”
“I am.”
His green eyes studied her. “You understand the risk – and the danger.”
“I do.”
He watched her for a moment, as though she might change her mind, then reached into a drawer and brought out identification papers for a Trude Altenkamp, 28, born in Zurich, Switzerland. He slid them across the desk to her, along with a thin manila folder.
Trude Altenkamp. Mila memorized the name, glanced at the paperwork, slipped it all into her oversized bag. She held out a hand as she rose to leave, but to her surprise, Pieter came around the desk and took both her hands in his.
“You are a brave woman, Mila – and resourceful,” he told her. “You are a credit to your countrymen….to all of us.”
It was no more than she had told Evi Strobel. But it warmed her, nonetheless.
