OP-DEC: Operation Deceit

Chapter 25

Hoch parked the car on a side street. The rain had cleared at last and the sun shone brightly, so Claire climbed out of the car beside her aunt and stood on the neatly swept sidewalk. Carsten loitered nearby with a cigarette, not clinging to her arm for a change. On the street side of the vehicle, her father got out and leaned on the roof of the car, displeased as ever. The scuffing of Mertens' shoes told her that he'd backed up to the building behind them to keep a close surveillance on everything.

"Where would you like to go?" Carsten asked them.

"What's here?" Aunt replied, not seeing much. She squinted in the sunshine.

"Why don't we take a little walk and find out?" Carsten suggested. He turned to Mertens. The man stood stiffly in front of a derelict store front. "Mertens, stay with the car. No telling who's around. You can help Hoch keep an eye on it."

Mertens nodded and went back to his surveillance of the buildings and street.

Claire didn't like the man's tense demeanor. He acted like he was hiding something. She herself had thought of every danger imaginable just while she'd been standing there. Carsten's warnings about how the resistance groups would see no difference between her and her father echoed in her mind. The new spy's behavior confirmed those declarations.

"Shall we?" Carsten startled her out of her thoughts. He scowled.

"Sorry," she laughed. "I'm just daydreaming-such lovely buildings," she added, with cutting sarcasm.

Carsten raised his eyebrow, hardly amused. He took her hand and Aunt's arm and led them toward the street. No traffic barred their way, though the rest of the city seemed busy enough. They hurried across.

"Come along, Herr Healey," Carsten called after him.

Claire cast her eyes over her shoulder to see her father reluctantly follow. He tucked his hands in his pockets and exhaled, annoyed to be an afterthought. Carsten was leading them to the corner across the street and each step made her feel uncomfortable.

In an instant, Claire was flat on her stomach across the sidewalk. All her senses had been battered out of her. She pushed up from the hard concrete, bewildered. A half smoked cigarette rolled toward her. Her mind was fragmented-there had been an inconceivably loud sound, like when she used to jumped in the pool as a girl and it had blotted out her hearing. Her body had instantly thrust forward. Then the deafening silence became a piercing ringing. This was all she remembered before she fell. She clasped her hands over her ears, rolling onto her backside. Her equilibrium was lost, and she wavered on the edge of fainting. Panic rose to replace the numbness.

Something gripped her arm, squeezing it tight and rousing her from debilitating fear. She searched for the source and found Carsten crouching beside her. His slicked back hair hung in tangles. The sleeves of his jacket were dusty. A grave, slightly angry air had replaced his initial shock. Despite his apparent confusion over what had happened, she wondered if he had pushed her down. Though she may have tripped on the curb, her memory crept back and denied both explanations. Claire noticed that his mouth moved, but she heard none of what he said. There was just a piercing ring and numbness.

Searching for her aunt, Claire discovered the woman kneeling in a spray of dust and broken bits. Her knees bled where she'd hit the ground. Aunt promptly threw up. Claire quickly looked away, feeling ill at the sight. As she tried to rid herself of the image, a stinging sensation reached her consciousness. A trickle of blood ran down the smooth skin of her calf. The new pair of hose she wore had been ripped to ruins. Carsten tore his tie from his neck and bandaged her leg with it.