Douglas Jacobson - The Katyn Order

Wolf shook his head. “I think Rabbit did that. Besides, the woman would’ve died anyway.”

“That doesn’t mean we can’t try!”

“You were doing what you had to do. Except that pistol you carry around in your pocket probably wouldn’t have stopped the tank.”

Natalia felt her face flush. She let go of the pistol and removed her hand from her pocket. “Well, thank you anyway.”

“You were part of the Minerki team?”

“Yes, I was.”

“That was good work.”

She nodded, but a shiver ran down her spine as the images flashed back: German soldiers leaping from the tower, dark silhouettes against the flames.

“They go away eventually,” he said. “The memories… they eventually go away if you put them out of your mind.”

“Is that what you do?”

“Yes, I do.” He seemed to be studying her uniform jacket. “They call you the Conductor?”

Natalia brushed some of the dust from the jacket, though it was a futile gesture after weeks of fighting in the streets. “That’s what I was, before all this started. I worked the run from Krakow to Warsaw.”

“So, you’re from Krakow?”

“Not originally. I’m from a small village in eastern Poland, but I moved to Krakow when I got the job on the railway.”

They stood in silence for a moment, the quiet broken only by sporadic laughter from the pub and the constant echo of artillery shelling in the distance. Wolf was thin and wiry, and standing in the shadowy moonlight, Natalia thought he looked far less formidable than he had that day in the hospital square. “They say you’re an American,” she said, though the instant she said it she knew he probably wouldn’t tell her if he was.

“Do I sound like an American?” His Polish was without any trace of accent, but cultured and refined, like he’d been raised in the city. “No, you don’t. Do you live here, in Warsaw?” He shook his head.

“Then I’ll bet you’re also from Krakow. You were, let’s see… a banker, perhaps?”

He laughed but stopped abruptly and cleared his throat. “A banker? Good Lord, I couldn’t stand to be around all that money. I’d probably steal it.”

He seemed a bit restless. Natalia had the impression that he wanted to talk but was uncomfortable about it, as though he wasn’t used to being around people. “So, if you’re not a banker, then… a doctor?”

“No, not even close.”

“A schoolteacher?”

“You ask a lot of questions.”

“I know. It’s my worst quality. I guess I’m just naturally curious. So, are you a schoolteacher?”

“If I were, what would I teach?”

“Well, now we’re getting someplace. Let’s see… maybe, economics?”

“Economics? Banking? What is it with you and money?”

Now they both laughed. “I have no idea,” she said, catching her breath, “I’ve certainly never had—”

The door of the pub banged open, and Falcon lurched out, followed by Pierre and another commando, who stumbled into him when he stopped abruptly. Falcon swayed back and forth, clutching a bottle in his hand and staring at Natalia. “There ya… there y’are,” he slurred and took a wobbly step closer.

Natalia pointed at the door. “Go back inside,” she snapped.

Pierre grabbed Falcon’s arm and tried to pull him back into the pub. “You heard the lady. Let’s go.”

Falcon pushed him away. “Get the fuck off me!” The bottle dropped from Falcon’s hand and shattered on the cobblestones. He stood upright, shot a quick glance at Wolf, then glared at Natalia. “What the hell… what’s… going on?”

“Get him out of here,” Natalia said sharply to Pierre.

Falcon grabbed her hand and pulled her toward him.

She jerked away. “Goddamn it—”

But Falcon lurched forward again and grabbed both of her shoulders. His eyes were glazed, and his breath stank of alcohol. “Don’t get smart with me you—”

She pushed him hard. “Take your hands off me.”

Falcon stumbled back, then straightened up and looked beyond her. “Hah, he’s gone. Looks like your new friend doesn’t… want any trouble. Now, come over here.”

He reached for her hand again, but she turned away. The street was empty except for the family huddled by the fire.

Wolf was gone.

She stepped into the street, but Falcon was on her in a second. He grabbed her arm and jerked her back. “Goddamn it! You don’t walk away from me!”

She whirled around and slapped him across the face.

Falcon seemed stunned for a second, then punched her in the side of the head, a hammer blow that sent a searing bolt of pain like an electric shock all the way down her back. He grabbed her by the throat and shoved her to her knees. “You bitch! Now I’m not good enough?”

“Falcon!” Pierre shouted. “That’s enough!”

Without taking his eyes off Natalia, Falcon roared, “Shut up and get out of here or you’re next!” He squeezed hard on her throat. “We’ll see who’s not good enough.”

Natalia reached into her pocket, fumbling for the pistol. Her head felt like it was split in half, and she could barely breathe. She tried to break loose, but he was too strong, his fingers digging into her throat. Her vision began to blur when she saw a flash of movement out of the corner of her eye.

Falcon’s grip abruptly fell away.

Natalia tumbled backward, coughing and gagging, trying to catch her breath. She saw Wolf, his hands clutching Falcon’s shirt, driving the larger man backward toward the building.

Falcon’s arms flailed wildly as Wolf shoved him to the ground, then kicked him hard in the groin.

Falcon howled and rolled onto his side.

Wolf grabbed him by the hair, lifted the big man off the ground and drove his fist into his stomach.

Falcon coiled up into a ball.

Wolf turned toward Pierre. “Pick him up and get him out of here,” he said with an unmistakable tone of menace.

Pierre motioned toward the other commando, who grabbed Falcon under the arms and dragged him into the building.

“I’m sorry,” Pierre said. “I should have stopped him sooner. Once he gets worked up he just—”

“Forget it,” Wolf said. “Just keep him away from her.”

Pierre nodded, then put a hand on Wolf’s shoulder. “I’ve been meaning to thank you… for taking care of that bastard, Heisenberg.”

Wolf lifted Pierre’s hand off his shoulder and turned him back toward the pub. “I was just doing my job. Now take Falcon back inside and keep him there.”

Natalia got to her feet, blinking away the stars that danced in her vision, and gently touched the side of her face. She opened and closed her mouth, relieved that her jaw wasn’t broken.

Wolf stepped up and took her elbow. “I think we’d better go.”

THEY WALKED QUICKLY away from the pub and across Old Town’s central market square. In the last five days the enemy shelling had advanced eastward, and now more than half of the Medieval buildings lay in ruins—three centuries of history reduced to rubble piles of multi-colored stucco, shattered leaded-glass windows and broken roof tiles. Flames flickered up through the wreckage, lighting the night street. The acrid odor of smoke hung heavily in the air as groups of AK commandos huddled around their bonfires and pots of soup with rifles slung over their shoulders. They passed around bottles of vodka and cigarettes, glancing up occasionally when a particularly loud artillery burst echoed through the square.

Adam was three paces ahead of the woman in the railway conductor’s uniform. He detoured around a massive heap of smashed bricks and glanced down into a crater where the remains of the mermaid statue, the symbol of Warsaw, protruded from the smoldering debris. Her sword pointed to the sky as if she were sending an appeal to heaven. He stepped over the keystone block of a smashed archway, cursing under his breath for letting his guard down. What the hell had he been thinking? Falcon was a drunken lout; there was no doubt about that. But the woman was an AK commando, and she was carrying a gun. Adam sensed that she was used to Falcon’s behavior and could’ve handled him by herself under normal circumstances. Except the crazy bastard went nuts when he saw me. And that, Adam knew, was exactly the kind of situation he couldn’t afford to get mixed up in.