31Chapter Eight already! And it has now officially been a month since I started. It's a landmark! Oh wait, it's been more than a month. I swear I started on the 22nd….
Interesting how someone can suddenly become so trusting, after only a week, and in times like these. Interesting how they'll suddenly forget that the enemy is right in front of them, talking with them like there's nothing wrong. Sure, he didn't seem to be giving information, I hadn't seen him make any calls, talk to anyone except Cat…. But that didn't mean he was clean yet. Or that he would ever be.
And it was one thing to talk to him, one thing to be friendly, but it was a whole other thing to be kissing him. She hardly knew what she was doing, being just a kid. Hardly knew what she was getting herself into with that guy. How could she even know he cared? How could she know that that wasn't just to get even closer to her, get her to tell more about the plans—what little she knew?
It wasn't like he'd done it, either, because she didn't look ready to pull away anytime soon.
In any case, it was time to leave to go into the Nederlands. Closer and closer, more and more dangerous, if the SF and SK noticed that quite a lot of people were suddenly converging round Berlin, despite the measures we'd taken.
Hopefully the Dutch people we needed to see would speak either English or German, because truthfully, I could say about two words in Dutch, and neither were very helpful in our situation.
"Are we leaving, then?" Cat asked, feet dancing on the sidewalk next to the car. I'd just come out of the hotel after checking us out, and she kept her eyes down like a guilty child. I knew she didn't know I'd seen her with Aleczander, but I still felt guilty, as well. I hadn't said a word to her all week, and I caught her staring at me in the car sometimes. She almost looked worried, but then Aleczander would say something and they'd cheerfully carry on. "Yeah, let's go," I said. With a sigh I asked, "Do you want to drive, Cat?" She looked at me in shock.
"Really? You'll let me? Even with last time…."
"Yes, go ahead, if you want," I told her, tossing her the keys, and she walked happily to the driver's side, while I sat down next to her. Aleczander was staying in the back if I could help it.
As we drove, I could tell Cat was being extra careful, looking over at me as if waiting for me to approve, so I nodded when she did, and she smiled faintly. After about the fifth time she made the car jump, Aleczander leaned forward and asked, "You do have a license, right?" She turned and glared, nearly driving off the road.
"Well it's not that I don't…. But I don't drive much. Actually, I haven't driven since I got my permit, except for the time we were going to Tennessee," she admitted, and the car was silent for a minute.
"Now you tell us," I said. She shrugged and slowed down for a sharp turn.
"Let's hope we come out alive," Aleczander said, and I smiled. Let's hope so.
At the border, I handed Cat our papers and she shoved them through the window, dropping a few. The guard at the little box—like a Checkpoint Charlie—rolled his eyes and stooped to pick them up, and Cat apologized. He walked away with them into the box and typed something into a scanner, laying the papers' codes on a horizontal screen. The scanner blinked blue and he ran his eyes over the screen. Satisfied, he returned, handed back the papers, and waved us away tiredly.
Pulling into the Dutch town at about 7:00 am, I said, "Let's try to make it all the way through today and into Germany in a few days."
"Homesick?" Cat asked, searching the houses for the address we were after. I narrowed my eyes. "No. I want to finish as quickly as we can."
"Sure," she said sarcastically and stopping abruptly in front of a white, pristine condo, not unlike the big, beach side hotels in Israel. We got out and walked up to the door, opening it and starting to go to the elevator, but were stopped by the receptionist at a desk on the far left. "Can I help you?" she called, in English, thankfully.
"We're here for Mr. Sampson," I said. American name, also good. "Mr. Sampson isn't receiving anyone," she said brightly.
"Well we need to see him," I said, and she shook her head.
"I'm sorry, but Mr. Sampson isn't receiving anyone."
"Why not?" Aleczander said. "I'm afraid he's gone," she said, without a bit of regret in her voice, and we all stood still, shocked.
"Gone?' Cat asked.
"Yes, I'm afraid he was taken away. I can't tell you why."
"Why?" Aleczander asked.
"I told you—"
"No," he said. "Why can't you tell us?"
"The VK will not permit it," she said, shrugging carelessly.
"What's the VK?" Cat asked me.
"The Dutch SF." She nodded, and Aleczander walked to the desk to show the woman something. She paled a little and said, "He was taken because he was found to be in possession of forbidden items. Another case was discovered farther East." Aleczander asked her the address and turned to check with me. I looked at the list. Yes, the VK was more alert than we thought, having caught up to our resistance people before we did.
"Thank you, Miss," Aleczander said, and we walked out. I sighed.
"Onto Germany, then."
We were halfway there and my thoughts were still full of what had happened at the condo. How had the VK known? They couldn't be more alert than the American SF, who were laid back, but snapped to action when the least suspicious action occurred. The VK was renowned for not being very good, their officers never quite able to catch up with what was going on.
So how had they known? And why had the receptionist spoken English? Most likely—knowing the VK, SF, and SK—they knew who we were, knew we spoke English, and had employed someone to inform us, to put us further on edge. It could be considered a stretch, but it certainly wouldn't be an unusual occurrence in these times.
Had Aleczander informed them? How had he, if he did? I hadn't been sleeping until I knew he was, just lying there, keeping an eye on him, watching him during the day, too, and there was no opportunity he had, unless it was through code, to convey messages.
If he was a double agent, why had they picked a kid like him to do it? Because they knew he'd be able to get close to Cat? That could be it, but something still eluded me. Some detail that would reveal the truth behind the madness.
By evening we made it into Germany, no problems again with the checkpoint, thankfully, and despite the fact that the country had changed since I was with my Opa as a kid, had changed, I felt at home again.
It wasn't cold yet, but there was a slight chill in the wind where we were, in Northern Germany. We stopped for gas about two hours in, and Cat got out of the car, stumbling and gliding her hand along the door for support. I was about to say something when Aleczander got up and took her hands, helping her over to the passenger seat. "You look sick, why not let Herr Hauser drive?" At least he was polite to some degree. She nodded, and he kissed her forehead gently.
I don't know what it was, jealousy, possibly, but it twinged inside and I turned away from them. When this was over, I wouldn't have to be near them.
When this was over we'd be living underground, nowhere to go to escape, I realised. Aleczander and Cat would be there, as well, not just me and the people we'd met along the way. I hadn't thought about it this way, but all the people I'd met over the past month I would soon be living with, and more, too. People from all over the world. If we disagreed, if we didn't like each other, there was nothing we could do about that—we'd be stuck, no where to go, but at least we'd have the town.
The more I thought about it, and even though I had the facts to prove success, I wondered more and more about whether we could really make it. It didn't matter how many things I knew that proved otherwise—there was still that nagging doubt. And the only distraction I had for the moment was Aleczander and Cat, and memories that were too painful to think about.
While driving, I glanced at Cat periodically, leaning on the door, her forehead on the window, eyes closed. We were thankfully nearing our first German town, Gardelgen, and it was 11:00 am. We had Premnitz afterwards—a good distance from where we were—and then Berlin. We pulled up in front of a large white house—identical to the ones surrounding it—with an orange roof, surrounded by a few thick trees. Stepping out from our spot on the side street where the front door was, we walked into the dull green yard.
A few steps and up to the door, knocking, and I'd have the chance to talk to the people. Seven times remaining silent and not knowing what was being said was seven times too many. A man came to the door. "Ja?" he asked, suspiciously eyeing Aleczander's white coat.
"Guten Morgen. Wir sind hier für 'pickles'." Who had made that keyword up anyway? Did they realise it felt ridiculous to say it?
"Ja," he said, wandering back into the house. "Danke," he told us, with a little more emotion in his abrasive voice when he came back with a small box.
"Danke," I repeated, taking it and moving back to the car. Cat had waited, and when I got in, I saw that she was sleeping.
At least we wouldn't need to wake her for a while, at least until we got into the next town, so we let her sleep into Premnitz.
In Premnitz there was one more person, and then Berlin. Things passed smoothly with them—a family of six children who were polite enough in company, but as soon as the door had closed, something crashed and chaos ensued.
We had reached Premnitz at 3:00, and now were close to Berlin—just a few hours away. Closer and closer. More and more dangerous.
6:00 and we were in Berlin—home. Of course, nothing had changed in reality, but it seemed brighter to me, and I knew it was from the rising anticipation. Time also seemed to be going much slower, minutes dragging by as if it took two to change the number on the screen in the car.
We parked at the hotel—though I desperately wanted to go home and sleep in my own bed—and while I checked in, Aleczander ran down to a drug store for cold medicine. At some point during the drive Cat told us it was just a cold, and that it was normal since someone had dragged her into the ocean not so long ago. I replied by commenting how she hadn't minded much once she was in, and at that she turned away, mumbling something.
As Aleczander left the car, that bothersome twinge was felt again—he was helping Cat. She'd be thanking him. But now at least it was just the two of us for a few minutes, and I left instructions at the desk for when Aleczander came, for the receptionist to give him the room number.
Cat looked a little brighter, at least, in the elevator, most likely from all the sleep she'd had. "Are you all right?" I asked her softly. She nodded and cleared her throat.
"I'm fine. Just a cold, and I was tired before the car trip. A lot better now," she said, breaking off to cough. "The question is," she said, "Are you all right?"
Her question took me by surprise and I blinked for a moment before answering. "Yes, why? Does something seem wrong?"
"Yeah," she said. "Since Alecz joined us you haven't talked to me." Me, not us, she said, and I took note of that.
Not knowing what else to say, I said, "Sorry," but it came out in a whisper. We reached the sixth floor, and Cat continued.
"I know you'd be on your guard, seeing as he is part of the SF, but not talking at all…. If I didn't know you any better," she started as we walked down the hall, glancing at the green plaques with white room numbers, "I'd say you were jealous, but that doesn't sound like you." I said nothing, and she gave me a sideways glance. "You aren't jealous, are you?" We reached the end of the hallway, in front of a wide, floor-to-ceiling window, and I pulled the keycard out of my back pocket.
I had thought about whether I was jealous or not, whether it was just distrust, and I was about to lie to her, but she was giving me such a curious look, that I replied quietly, "I might be." The words were so quiet that I was afraid I'd have to repeat myself when the lock clicked as I spoke. I walked in, but she stayed in place, staring in mild shock from the doorway.
"Why?" she finally asked, and I shrugged. Walking in behind me, she came up and lightly laid a hand on my shoulder. "Are you really?" It was almost pity in her voice that I heard.
"I said as much, didn't I?" I nearly snapped. I didn't turn around, and she moved in front of me, looking up so that she could see my eyes.
"I didn't think you even liked me," she admitted, holding my gaze.
"Why would you think that?" I asked, and she sighed.
"It seemed like you thought I was just a kid, and you're so distant, I just figured you were getting this over with, and that you didn't like it or me."
"That isn't true."
"I realise that now, you know." I nodded and she sighed again. "When you wouldn't speak to me…I don't know, something was going on." I gave her a quizzical look, and she elaborated. "I know something was going on with you, but it was with me too. Whenever you walked by without a glance…it didn't hurt exactly, but it's like something kind of shifted in me. I don't know what or why, but it did, and I am starting to like Alecz…." She trailed off, and I remembered my own "shifting," as she put it, and wondered if they were the same thing. Or along the same line.
Neither of us said anything, and I was about to speak when the door opened and the phone rang. "Hello," Aleczander said, walking over to us.
"Hello," I said back, finally speaking to him, and he smiled at me, then at Cat, giving her cold medicine as she picked up the phone, mouthing "thank you".
"Hello?" she said, and listened for a while to a voice on the other end. Aleczander turned to me and said, "I'm going to go erase the travel records and shipping records, is that okay?" I nodded, watching Cat, who was getting paler.
Aleczander walked out the door and Cat covered her mouth with a shaking hand as she continued to listen. "All right. Yes, thank you," she whispered unsteadily, pushing the off-button and falling onto the bed. She sat still and with wide eyes stared at nothing; past me, past the window, past the city.
"What is it?" I asked. "What did they say?" Staying silent for a long while, Cat's eyes began to water and then tears fell.
Sitting down beside her, I repeated my questions, and she drew her hands across her cheeks, wiping away the quickly falling drops. "They said they've got my mom. They took her away due to high treason against the government. So they killed her of course. Just like Hattie, and just like those people in Holland." She was silent and more tears came, sliding down her cheeks. I sat down next to her, watching.
"It's my fault you know." She spoke out loud, but it seemed more like she was talking to herself, not expecting reactions, and not caring if there were any. "If I hadn't told Aleczander, if I hadn't let that piece slip, she'd still be alive." I wanted to tell her there was nothing she could have done, that they would have gotten her mother regardless, but first of all, she could have been more careful with what she said, and second of all, that wasn't a very comforting thing to say. "You were right to suspect him still, of course. I didn't listen. I got close to him. I knew no men my age were trustworthy, but he really got to me, you know?" I nodded, but she took no notice, her crying becoming harder, more emotion with each shake of her shoulders.
Cat didn't respond to verbal consolation, so I brought my arms around her and pulled her to me. She stayed stiff for a moment, but relaxed in quiet sobs against me, crying into my arm. She turned towards me and drew her arms around me as well, grabbing at the fabric of my shirt in her fingers.
I kissed her forehead and said, "It wasn't your fault Cat. You can't help the fact that Aleczander's a conniving, SF double agent, and I doubt if you could've changed his mind about giving information." I thought for a while as she continued to cry, ignoring my comment, and despite my personal feelings for him, I said, "It might not have been Aleczander. They had taken Hattie, right? I'm sorry, but it seemed like it was only a matter of time." I knew it was partly the wrong thing to say, but I figured considering Aleczander's innocence would make her feel better, and it must have when she said, sarcastically, "Isn't that a comfort to know." I sighed, and she stopped shaking, only silent, calm, hot tears rolling onto my shoulder.
"I can't believe I almost slept with him," she finally said. I stopped breathing at that.
"You what?" It came out as more of a statement than a question and she caught the slight edge in it. She pulled back a little, arms still around me.
"I said almost," she repeated, avoiding my eyes. I stared in shock.
"You what?" I asked again.
"I told you, dammit. Can't you hear?" I blinked, and she sighed for yet another time that night.
"When?" I asked, thinking back….
"In Premnitz. You had gone to mail the stuff after Aleczander offered to take me back to the hotel because I was still a little sick." I still stared, silent, and she continued. "We got back and I said that I wasn't tired after the ride here, but thanks for taking me back, it was good to sit down, and he sat down with me and…."
"And you…."
"I said almost!" she insisted again, and I was afraid to ask anymore, opting instead to say again,
"You what?"
She rolled her eyes and fell back against me, tightening her grip. "He wasn't very loving you know."
"No I don't know," I said, but she ignored that.
"He was tender, and soft, but not loving, as if he didn't really care."
"Is it necessary for me to hear this?"
"Yes."
"Why is that?"
"Because you seem to be more so, and I thought that might make you feel better," she said, words half-muffled against my neck. "It does," I admitted, "but you're the one who needs it."
"Not really. I loved my mom, and I blame myself for her death…. But there's nothing I can do about it now, and I won't give Aleczander the satisfaction of seeing me crying."
"Aleczander isn't here now," I whispered, closing my eyes.
"I know that," she said, pulling back slightly, again. "What are you going to do about it?" she challenged, and I leaned down to kiss her.
We're very much near the end, and I'm really excited! Sorry, to those of you who are fans of the AleczxCat pairing, but don't worry, I have an idea for a drabble forming. One of those alternate universes, and it won't be as interesting or dramatic, but just something to work on while I think of another idea to focus on. Thanks for reading!