The young man nodded and glanced at Rick. “You may cross the border.”
The two men left, and Rick hopped in the car and twisted the key, the vehicle roaring to life. Jerking the gear stick into drive, he drove through the now open border, holding his breath until they were on the other side and out of sight of the soldiers.
“Thank You, Jesus.” The words burst out of him once the dark enshrouded them again.
Hannah’s hand landed on his shoulder, and he started.
“Oh. I am sorry. I only meant to say you were wonderful back there. And the Lord was watching out for us.”
George nodded. “I was praying so hard. And God heard!”
Rick let out a breathy chuckle. “Indeed He did.”
Fifteen minutes later, the children were ensconced in Celestia’s car, ready to head back to her home. Ready for a chance at a new life.
As was their protocol, they exchanged letters of information but did not speak above a whisper. Rick filled Chaisley’s grandmother in on the new checkpoint.
“When I get back to Berlin, I will talk with Chais and Mel. We will have to find another way into the Netherlands. One that isn’t such a main road.” He gave Celestia a grim smile. “I pray your trip home is a safe one.”
Celestia patted Rick’s cheek, her hand warm against his skin. How long had it been since he’d felt the warm touch of a mother or a grandmother?
His eyes burned.
Too long.
“May God continue to protect you, Rick. Give the girls my love.”
He gave her a short nod and strode back to his car. At least it was dark, so no one could see the tears streaming down his face. He pulled out his kerchief and wiped away the moisture.
Oh, if his friends saw him now, the ribbing he would take. The thought sobered him. Where were all of his friends? Those he’d trained with had spread across Europe, filling out their intelligence network. Were any of them still alive?
Swiping a hand across his face, Rick pushed the thoughts away. Now that the kids were safely across the border, Rick had one more mission.
He drove back toward the border, relieved to see the checkpoint was still open. No soldiers stood about, and the two military vehicles that had been there half an hour ago were gone.
A single soldier walked out as Rick drove to the border and must have recognized the vehicle and waved him through.
Thanking the Lord for His mercy, Rick sped back into Germany.
Another half an hour into his journey, he turned toward a railway station. Killing the headlights, he rolled slowly forward, his gaze darting over it.
Though the intelligence wasn’t clear on exactly which communication hubs were permanent and which were moving, Rick’s recent source had been adamant that this station had recently been outfitted as a permanent hub.
Parking his car a block from the station and away from any streetlights, he slipped out of his chauffeur uniform and pulled a black sweater on. A dark cap covered his blond hair. He grabbed his rucksack and exited the car, darting in and out of shadows to the depot. Nearing the east wall, he crouched and settled his breathing, listening for any sounds of disturbance.
Nothing. No sound at all.
He slipped to the back of the building and paused again. There was no light back there, and it took some time for his eyes toadjust. Shadows began to form, and soon he could make out the shape of a generator at the back of the building.
He slid his hand along the rough siding of the building, inching his way toward the power source. If his intel was correct, there was a box on the other side of this generator containing a mass of wires. All he had to do was cut and shred the lines and then get out.
The grass swished around his feet as he rounded the generator and spotted the large metal box. A silver lock glinted in the small shaft of moonlight. Rick set his pack down and fished out his lock-picking kit. Within a minute, the softsnickof metal releasing from metal let him know he’d succeeded.
Removing the lock, Rick lifted the metal lid, wincing at the groaning of the hinges. He paused and waited again. When he heard no footsteps, he put the lid to the side. He fished the small torch out of the side pocket of his sack and held it low over the box. The soft glow illuminated the cluster of telephone wires, and a shiver raced down his arms.
He’d found it.
Rick unsheathed the small, sharp knife he kept hidden in his boot and sliced through the wires. He grinned. There was nothing like the satisfaction of a sharp knife slicing through wires and ultimately scrambling German communications. He removed large chunks of the wires and then lit a match and tossed it in. He could revel later. Right now, he needed to get this box back together and get on the road.
