OP-DEC: Operation Deceit

Chapter 22

Claire and her aunt sat close together in the dim café eating their dinner. The dark barman, Marcel, brought them some lovely loaves of bread and cheese with a fat roasted chicken. A superb white wine breathed in the middle of the table. It wasn't much, but it was better fare than they had in the U-boat, if not at the base. Carsten sat opposite them, where he had a survey of the whole room as well as a view of the street. Father had requested his meal be brought to his room, so they ate without his comments and enjoyed a relative peace.

Aunt ate quietly, lifting her eyes now and then to Marcel. The large man's attention seemed to always be on her, and she seemed uncomfortable with the glint in his eyes. Claire was thankful for the smile it brought to her own face. Too many days had passed and she was suffocated by the fear that filled them. This amorous play was a welcome distraction.

"Why does he keep looking over here?" Aunt murmured.

"I think he likes you," Claire answered.

By the time they'd reappeared for dinner, the innkeeper had not only made the food, but presented himself in a much cleaner aspect. Claire thought him relatively handsome for an older man and his ogling gave away his adoration. Claire thought it wonderfully sweet. If only they'd met under different circumstances. She smiled to herself. Aunt had never married. It would be nice for her to find someone, a greater amusement than playing mother hen.

"Why are you smiling like that?" Aunt asked, panicked by the very idea.

"I think it's sweet," Claire declared.

"What about you?" Aunt asked Carsten. He lifted his head from his plate and looked at her, coming back from his thoughts. "Do you think it's sweet that some hairy beast is ogling me?"

"There is a someone for everyone," Carsten said, disinterested. He sat back with his notebook again. "But I do not suggest you find a someone in Marcel."

"Regardless," Aunt said, pulling a piece of bread off the loaf. "It's not sweet." She popped the bread in her mouth.

"Herr Reiniger wouldn't know what sweet was if it bit him on the nose," Claire said, chewing a cut of chicken.

Earlier, Claire had nearly struck Carsten, and she worried the move had prompted the beginning of her end. He'd become far too quiet since then. Despite her desire to lash out, she needed to be nicer to determine if he would truly help them or not. Carsten lifted his icy blue eyes to hers, setting his notebook aside. Without a word, he went back to eating his dinner. After he swallowed, Claire thought surely some callous sentence would follow. He wiped his hands and disappointed her by keeping silent yet again. Claire eyed the notebook, trying to read the marks, but it was in German and some form of shorthand she had never seen, or so she surmised by the hieroglyphics.

"When you have finished your dinner, we will be on our way," Carsten said.

Claire lifted her eyes from the pad of paper, aghast. That was worse than anything she'd expected.

"You can't take her out there with you," Aunt said.

"What would you have me do?" Carsten asked. "Leave her here so you can make your escape? It would probably please your father to no end to see you do so and be hunted down like animals and shot. I am not in the mood to go hunting." Carsten wagged his finger. "Nein. She comes with me."

"Some imagination you have." Aunt said, bewildered.

"You seem to think this is my first time out of the stable." Carsten smiled scornfully. "I can assure you it is not. Now-I am in charge of our little expedition. What I say goes."