Page 75 of Tides of Resistance
‘Ha ha, you think you can still play me with your lies, but I’m afraid you are going to learn that the unfortunate error on my part is about to be reversed.’
Heinrich touched his black leather belt, with the swastika, and the Luger glinted in its holster. For a second, she thought he was going to shoot her, such was the sinister look on his face, but he removed his belt and flaunted it in front of her. ‘See this?’ he said, pointing to a sharp-edged gold buckle. ‘This is my family’s eagle crest, made especially for my belt. Do you like it?’
His voice was threatening, and Lizzie calculated the best way to respond. The longer she could keep him talking, the more time she would have until he laid his hands on her.
‘You must be very proud to have such a noble crest. Like I said, no one needs to know about our situation. Why not let me go, and I will leave for Paris immediately, and you’ll never have to see my face again?’
‘Nice try. You have quite the temptress’s tongue, don’t you? How I didn’t see it before is a mystery.’
He draped the belt over the chair, on top of his tunic, and turned to untie her hands and unravel the rope from around her.
‘Stand,’ he commanded.
Lizzie’s legs were weak from being in the same position for hours, and she almost keeled over but righted herself and stared at him impudently. She was furious with him, and with herself for falling into this terrible trap.
‘Strip off your clothes.’ He prodded her in the rib cage with one hard finger. ‘Hurry, I don’t have all night.’
Lizzie’s wrists were torn from the rope ties, and her muscles screamed. Fortunately, Nan had given her an outfit with several pieces to it rather than another dress, so she slowly removed her jacket and placed it on a chair.
‘I said hurry,’ snarled Heinrich, pouring himself another generous shot of whisky. He was drowning his sorrows or riling himself up for what he was about to do.
She couldn’t look at him to see which it might be as terror spiralled through her. The thick belt with the buckles hung over the chair, and she shivered as she slowly removed her blouse and then her skirt, and the chill evening air crept over her bare skin. Goosebumps coated her flesh as she stood before him in only her underwear.
‘And the rest. Take everything off.’
Daring to raise her chin, self-conscious and afraid as she was that he was going to rape her, she corralled her spirits and consoled herself she would find a way to escape. If he kept knocking it back at this rate, he would soon be drunk, and hissenses weakened. That would be her moment to take advantage of the situation.
Glancing at her watch, she saw it was already 9 p.m., a long twelve hours since she was supposed to meet Alain at the Secret Cove. She hoped he had got back safely to St. Lunaire. Had he told Fabian she had missed the pickup? If only she’d had more time to teach her cousin how to get a message to London, he would have been able to alert the SOE. As it was, she was stranded on the island with no way out.
Stripping off her underwear, she stood before him, totally naked.
Heinrich devoured her with his eyes, and she saw the physical effect of her nakedness by the bulge at his crotch. He touched himself briefly and growled. ‘You are beautiful. I’ll give you that. Now lie on the table.’
Lizzie stalled, pretending she didn’t understand what he wanted her to do, but he grabbed her roughly by the arm, squeezed his fingers into her skin and dragged her towards the table. ‘Get up and lie face down on your stomach,’ he ordered, gritting his teeth.
Climbing onto the table, she did as he instructed until she was completely at his mercy on the large military desk near the window.
Heinrich pulled the thick curtains closed, and the only light was from the lamp in the corner of the large room. Before she could brace herself, she heard a buzzing in the air and then a fierce pain rocketed through her.
‘No one makes a fool of an Adler.’ Heinrich was panting, and she guessed that hitting her in this vulnerable position was turning him on even more. As the second whiplash of the leather belt licked the tender flesh of her behind, Lizzie bit into her lip, drawing blood, but still made no sound.
‘You will beg me for mercy, bitch!’ he growled near her ear, leaning over her. ‘I own you now.’ And then another lash struck, this time cutting into the back of her legs. Her resistance weakened with the intense pain, and a yelp slipped through her lips.
‘That’s it, French whore. Let me hear you. Soon, I’ll give you what you really want, but for now you deserve to suffer. Tell me what your real name is and who sent you.’
Lizzie wretched, but nothing came up from her empty stomach as she lay there in agony, and he beat her again and again.
‘This is your punishment, my rose,’ he whispered in her ear in the gloomy light as she lay writhing on the table surface, blood dribbling down her torn flesh.
She heard him tugging on his trousers and feared the worst. As her body tensed, she raised her head and searched for a way to fend him off. Her eyes fell on the thick crystal glass, half full of a measure of whisky. As he fumbled to free himself of his trousers, she stretched and clasped the glass before he could stop her. Then he flung himself at her, and she threw the whisky in his eyes, temporarily blinding him as she bashed his temple with the glass.
‘Ouch!’ he cried, clutching his head and blinking the alcohol out of his eyes as he reeled away from her, searching for something to dry his face. ‘You will pay for that, you whore, and you’ll wish you’d never been born.’
Lizzie had pulled herself up and hauled her sore body off the table, still holding the heavy glass in her hand like a weapon, waiting for him to come at her again. A sudden vision of Hannah flashed into her mind, and she remembered how she had fought off a Nazi general with an ashtray in similar circumstances in Paris.
Now she stood leaning against the desk, the adrenaline surging through her, so she didn’t feel the pain, waiting for him to attack her again. She was ready to defend herself. God help him if he tried to rape her.
Heinrich gaped at her as he wiped the blood from his head with his shirt sleeve, as if he couldn’t quite believe what she had done. His mouth was open, and then he licked his lips as he closed the distance between them and charged at her like a roaring bull.
