Greg Iles - Black Cross

“How will we reach the E-Block without the Germans seeing us?” asked a young woman.

“I plan to short out the electricity just before the attack. You only have to cross fifteen meters of open ground to reach the alley. Each woman must take at least one child to the E-Block, some two. Once inside, do whatever you must to fit everyone in. The ceiling is low, but you can hold the small children on your shoulders.”

“What about the sentry they posted at our gate? We can’t get out that way, and many of the children can’t climb the fence.”

“I’m going to kill the sentry,” Jonas said. “My father will put on his uniform and stand in his place until it is time for you to move. I suggest you begin moving them at ten minutes until eight. Use your own judgment. But no matter what happens, the E-Block door must be sealed shut before eight.”

“How will we get out?” asked a worried voice from the floor. “There is no door handle inside the E-Block.”

“I will leave my machine gun. One of you will have to shoot out a window. It’s the only way.”

“How long do we wait?”

“Two hours, if you can stand it. There should be two hours of air, plus a small oxygen bottle as a reserve. After that, you must get away from here quickly. Take a truck and try to reach the Polish border. There are partisans there in the forest.”

Jonas’s chest felt suddenly hollow. Rachel Jansen was walking toward him like a specter out of the darkness. She held a small bundle in her arms, wrapped in one of the prison blankets. When she reached him, she immediately handed it over. There were tears on her face.

“Take care of her, Herr Stern,” she said. “She won’t make any trouble for you.”

Jonas pulled back the blanket. He saw the raven-haired head of Hannah Jansen. The little girl was fast asleep. He passed the child back to Rachel. “Just a little longer,” he said. “I have something to do before I go.”

He handed the silenced Schmeisser to his father and drew the SS dagger from the black sheath at his belt. Its gleaming nine-inch blade was engraved with the motto, My Honor Is Loyalty . He closed his hand around the Nazi eagle on the black haft of the dagger and held it up before his father’s face.

“Let’s go.”

“I need your assistance, Rottenführer.”

The sentry standing at the block gate turned and peered through the darkness at Jonas Stern, who stood just inside the wire fence.

“ Jawohl , Standartenführer.” The sentry opened the gate, stepped inside, and closed it behind him.

Jonas led him toward the Jewish Women’s Block. “I need to remove one of the Jews for further questioning, Rottenführer. Some of her friends may try to stop me.”

“Allow me, Standartenführer!” The sentry shouldered his way in front of Stern and marched up the steps.

Stern stayed close behind him. The moment the guard passed through the barracks door, Jonas clapped his left hand around the man’s forehead, jerked back his neck and dragged the double-edged dagger across his throat with his right hand. There was no cry, only a rush of air and warm blood. Stern held onto the head long enough to guide the body down to the barracks floor, then sheathed his knife and darted out of the block to stand at the gate while his father put on the sentry’s clothes.

Within seconds the women stripped the dead corporal of clothes, boots, and weapons and gave all to Avram, who immediately put them on and went out to change places with his son.

Jonas opened the gate for Avram to pass out, then slipped back inside and stood just behind his father.

“Father, I beg you,” he whispered. “Please come out with me. Get away from this place.”

Avram reached back through the gateposts and clenched his son’s arm. “No more talk of that.”

“Then at least go into the E-Block. You can lead the women into Poland.”

“No more, Jonas!” Avram looked back over his son’s shoulder and whispered, “ Rachel .”

Jonas turned and saw the young woman standing behind him, tears glittering in her dark eyes. Hannah was in her arms.

“Open your hand, my son,” Avram commanded.

Puzzled, Jonas slipped his hand between the gateposts. He felt something small and hard like seeds pressed into it.

“Those are diamonds,” said Avram, finding Rachel’s eyes. “Yes, I kept two for myself. But I give them now to your daughter. Give yours to Jonas as well, Rachel. He will need them to buy passage to Palestine.”

Rachel had all her diamonds ready, but when she saw the shoemaker give up his stones for Hannah, she pressed only two into Jonas’s hand.

After pocketing the diamonds, Jonas drew the bloody SS dagger from the sheath at his belt and held it out to Rachel. “If anyone tries to stop you in the alley,” he said, “use this. Move close to them and strike quickly. Aim for the upper stomach.”

Rachel took the dagger and held it beneath the bundle that was Hannah.

Avram turned his back to the fence again. “Listen to me, Jonas,” he whispered. “When you get to Palestine, take this child to your mother. Tell Leah to raise her as if she were your sister. You understand?”

Jonas struggled to gain control of his voice. “Yes.”

He was about to take the little girl from Rachel when he saw three SS men standing at the back gate of the camp. They were in easy sight of the open ground the women would have to cross to reach the E-Block. “Look!” he whispered.

“My God,” said Avram. “What are they doing?”

Jonas couldn’t make out faces or rank badges, only two men standing inside the gate smoking cigarettes and talking to the sentry who stood outside. He checked his watch. 7:35. He should be driving out of the front gate now.

“Do you think they’ll go away in time?” Avram asked.

“I don’t know. Father, walk with me to my car. With you in that uniform we can drive right out of here.”

Rachel grabbed Jonas’s arm. “You can’t do that! You can’t leave Hannah behind!”

“We’ll take her with us.”

Awakened by her mother’s panic, the child whimpered softly in the darkness. Avram touched Rachel’s arm. “Have no fear,” he said. “Jonas, forget the men at the gate. Take this child and go. The E-Block was a long chance anyway.”

Jonas stared at the three SS men, his mind whirling.

Avram held up the dead corporal’s machine gun. “If they don’t move, I will try to kill them.”

As Avram spoke these words, Jonas spied two more SS men. They were standing in the shadow of the hospital wall, examining the polished black Mercedes that had mysteriously appeared in camp. In that moment Jonas knew he would not reach the gas cylinders in time. It would be McConnell or no one.

He slipped through the gate and hugged his father as tightly as he could, as if to cling to the moment for the rest of his life. “I will never forget you,” he said in a choked voice. Then he snatched away the dead sentry’s gun and threw it onto the snow. “That weapon isn’t silenced,” he said. “Take this.”

He handed Avram his Schmeisser.

Avram made as if to speak, but his voice failed him. A brief light flickered in his eyes, something very much like second thoughts, but he pushed his son away. “Go!” he said.

“Have the child ready,” Jonas told him. “If I’m alive in five minutes, I’ll be back for her.”

42

Jonas Stern marched across the frozen Appellplatz like Erwin Rommel inspecting the Afrika Korps. His only weapon was his Walther PPK; he’d given his silenced Schmeisser to his father and his SS dagger to Rachel Jansen. Whenever one of the SS men smoking at the back gate inhaled, an orange glow lit the upper half of his face. By this light Stern saw that two of the guards were privates, the other a sergeant major. The men still had not noticed him.