Edouard's mouth was as round as his eyes.
"You need to get out of here, you and Berta. Tonight. I will take you to Switzerland with me. That's all I can tell you, except that if you stay, you will die."
"But why? How will we die? I need to know more about this!"
Macurdy put his hands on Edouard's shoulders. "Look at my aura, Edouard, and trust me. I beg you!"
Edouard looked a long moment, licked dry lips. "How do we get out?"
"At midnight, I want you to open the window and throw out the fire rope, then climb down. If Berta cannot climb down, tie it beneath her arms and lower her over the window sill."
"But how do I get her? That will be after lights out."
"You are the Herr Doctor Professor. The guard will allow it. Just do it."
Edouard look unconvinced. "What if she doesn't want to go?"
"She will. She told me before how much she longs to escape this country."
"She will never go without Lotta. You do not know Lotta; she is new here, a child 10 years old. She is like Marie; she does not speak Colonel Landgraf has told me something of her history; her experience of life has been-ugly. Berta is very good for her."
"Then lower her, too. And when you get outside, move as quietly as you can. There may be guards, but there is no moon. Go to the forest and wait for me at the edge, near the stable." Macurdy glanced toward the door. "I haven't much time," he said, and from an inside pocket, took the folding stiletto he'd been issued in the 505th. "If Eich wakes up, and he probably will, he will try to stop you, cause an alarm. So use this first, through an eye socket into the brain. To the handle. If you simply cut his throat, you'll be a bloody mess."
He paused, then added, "Edouard, I know this is hard for you. But if you cannot do it for yourself, do it for the child. Give her a new life, with Berta."
He pressed the weapon into Edouard's hand, fearing as he did so that this man could never murder someone in their sleep. That's all you can do for them, he told himself. From here it's up to Edouard. He clapped the German on the shoulder, then opened the latrine door and peered into the room. No one was there, so he left, closed the door behind him and reactivated his cloak.
Edouard Schurz stared at the door that had closed in his face. Then, for a long moment, he regarded the small but deadly instrument in his hand, as if it might bite him. Before returning to the recreation room, he put it under his pillow.
Feeling more confidence than ever in his cloak, Macurdy returned to the first floor, meeting no one enroute except the unknowing guard on the second-floor landing. In the first floor corridor, he was alone except for the rather distant guards at the ells. His ear against Landgrafs door heard nothing. Still listening, he scratched softly, then tapped with a finger nail. Again nothing, so he took the set of lock picks from a tunic pocket. The bolt opened with an audible "cluck," and Macurdy glanced left and right down the corridor. No one had hear Opening the door, he went in and closed it behind him, grateful that it swung inward.
The blackout curtains were drawn, and the corridor well enough lit that light wouldn't show beneath the door, so he switched on the ceiling light. Now, he thought, scanning around, where…
Shock gripped him, followed by a sure of excitement: On a table in front of the window lay the right orange chute and ballast bag, and on top of them, the coil of fuse and the drawstring pouch. Quickly he stepped to them, and with hands that shook, opened the pouch, checked the contents, then tucked it into a tunic pocket. The coiled fuse he stuffed into a thigh pocket. Then, after a long deep breath, he tightened and relaxed his muscles to steady himself, and stepped quickly to the door. Again he heard nothing, but as the first floor was carpeted, that simply meant that no one was talking nearby in the corridor.
He switched off the light and pulled the door open-to see the corporal of the guard about to pass as he made his periodic round of the guard posts. The sight of the colonel's door opening jerked his gaze toward it-and reflexively, Macurdy's empty hand pumped a plasma charge into the corporal's head. The skull popped as if the contents had boiled, and the corporal fell bonelessly to the floor. From the south ell, the guard called, "What is wrong? What happened?"
Macurdy stepped into the hall at once; the corridors would soon be crowed, and it wouldn't do to be cornered in Landgrafs office. He slipped silently but quickly to the foyer, going under instead of around the staircase, avoiding the view of the guard on the second-floor landing. But the man on guard at the cellar stairway stepped away from his post to look toward the disturbance, and seeing a body in front of Landgraf's door, hurried toward it. Macurdy barely got out of his way, then grasping the opportunity, stepped quickly to the cellar stairs and down them.
Moments later he was in the room with his TNT stash. There he cut off a long length of fuse, inserted it into a blasting cap, pressed the cap into a block of TNT, willed a bright bead of hot plasma at a fingertip-then stopped. If he blew the stack now, Edouard and Berta would die, and the child. If he didn't, the building would surely be searched, but…
So far his concealment spell had worked better than he'd ever expected. He would, he decided, sit on the TNT and wait. If they came in and looked, hopefully, probably, they'd see neither him nor the evidence. If they did see him, he'd pump a plasma charge into the stack.
The decision left him calm, even serene. Sitting on a ton of TNT, he assumed the meditation posture Varia had taught him, and began to meditate. Seldom had it gone so well. Remarkably, not even his ankles complained. After 20 minutes the door opened, the light turned on, soldiers peered behind the table, then the light went off again, the door closed, and they were gone.
Macurdy sat calmly through the hours, aware when midnight came and passed, and after a bit stood up without stiffness in knees or ankles. Using his penlight, he went to the switch and turned on the light, then put the towel in place. Next he cut a TNT block into four cubes, cut four short lengths of fuse and capped them with detonators, pressed a detonator into each cube, and put all four quarter-pound bombs inside his tunic. His remaining K rations he distributed in pockets.
Finally he lit the long fuse, turned out the light and left the room. He had only one thing more to accomplish-blow the magazines as quickly as possible, before something went irretrievably wrong.
At the north ell he paused a moment, peering around the corner at the guards outside the magazines. No longer bored or heedless, they were looking in his direction, submachine guns ready. He drew his.45. If he stepped out and snapped off two quick shots on target… But only one of the two needed to fire a burst in his direction, and even unaimed… Any significant wound would be deadly. So he compromised: His.45 ready but silent, he stepped out and started toward them.
It was obvious at once they didn't see him, but every step of the way he half-expected at least one of them to start firing. Both stood in mid-corridor, so he moved along one wall, and when he reached them, slipped by slowly, to avoid making an eddy of air. His senses were preternaturally sharp; he smelled his own stale sweat, with a lingering trace of cow manure, and wondered that the two Germans didn't. Ten feet past them he speeded up, and at the end of the corridor, opened the door to the room nearest the entryway. Then, quiet he lifted the bar from the exit door, took it into the room, laid it by the wall, and stepped back into the corridor.
A hundred feet away, the magazine guards still stood with their backs to him. His.45 boomed twice, the shots so close together, the second man had hardly started to turn before a heavy slug smashed through a rib into the heart. Both men fell without firing.