“We’re all fine. But Hiram, the French police discovered our old campsite a few hours ago. We retrieved some audio from the listening device you left behind. Before the booby trap detonated, we heard a policeman say that the prisoners transferred to Drancy from Camp Joffre will be shipped east by the middle of next week.”
He had covered their tracks getting to the first site, but they departed in a more carefree manner leaving obvious clues that people had been squatting in the woods. Still, the police discovery of the first campsite surprised him. Hiram pictured the policemen discovering the second campsite, coming upon his soldiers. The image led one of the men to Deborah. His heartbeat quickened. He had to get to her.
In the background, Barbara shouted, “We save the families!”
15
1830 hours, Monday, August 3, 1942, south of Périllos Pyrénées-Orientales Department, Vichy France
For three days, Hiram and the remaining seven women of Team Two hiked back in the direction of Camp Joffre. He pushed them toward the camp site south of Périllos. They kept to the woods, crossing main routes only when necessary. Drones scouted ahead. Twice the drones spotted patrols and the team was forced deeper into the woods, adding considerable distance to their trek. On day three, seven weary soldiers marched into camp. Before their packs slid off their shoulders, the welcoming party surrounded them. Danette, Barbara, Camille, Joanne, Diane, Ida, and Myriam were the first to put their arms around the weary travelers. The others joined in, all eager to greet the incoming team. Though their feet hurt and bodies ached from the kilometers traveled, they embraced their comrades and settled in to conversation, sharing the highs and lows of their journey.
As Hiram watched his troops, Deborah came to join him. “Sarah and Maria?” her words dry and distant.
“They’re on their way to England,” he said.
Sarah and Maria had accepted Hiram’s plan, despite the fear of not being able to carry it out. Now he had to offer the same information to the other former maids, starting with Danette and Deborah.
“I’ll explain, but first I need to talk to you and Danette,” he said. He led the two women out of the camp. A few of the others watched them leave, though no one seemed interested enough to tag along. They walked until the voices from the camp died away. He said nothing, still trying to work up the courage to tell these two women the whole truth. They had to understand.
The three came to a gully and Hiram climbed down, signaling the two women to follow. Deborah, I need you to translate for Danette.”
Deborah nodded.
Danette looked from Hiram to Deborah, confused.
“No matter what I’m about to say, you have to translate.”
“Well get on with it,” Deborah said.
“My name is Hiram Jonah Halphen,” he said.
She hesitated, but repeated his words in French.
Danette rattled off a few words. Deborah shook her head and said something in return. Both women looked at him.
“My father was Moshi Jonah Halphen,” he said.
Danette listened, struggling to understand.
“His father was Jonah Silas Halphen.” Hiram waited for Deborah to translate.
“And his father was Silas Hiram Halphen,” he said.
Deborah translated. Danette shook her head and said something slow and uncertain.
“She says that Silas Hiram Halphen is her son.”
“He is,” Hiram said.
“That doesn’t make sense,” Deborah said. “It must be a family name, but I didn’t think you two were related. Why is this important? And why have you dragged us all the way out here to tell us about your family tree?”
Danette touched her fingers as if counting. When she finished, she looked at Hiram and spoke.
Deborah translated “Silas is her son and your great-grandfather?”
He nodded. Danette’s head tilted to the side, like that damn dog trying to decipher human words.
Hiram looked at Deborah. “I’m not from America. I was born in the independent nation of Israel in the year 2020, and joined the Israeli Defense Force in 2038.”
“And I’m Danette’s fairy godmother,” Deborah snorted, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
“Listen to me.” Hiram ignored the interruption. “I was on a mission in the city of Wah, in India. Something happened with my pod. An accident I guess. Sarah seems to understand it better than I do. When I went into the pod it was the year 2050 and when I finally climbed out through the portal, I found myself in the year 1942.”
Danette moved in front of Hiram, touched his face. She turned to Deborah and talked.
“She says you have his eyes.”
Then, as unexpected as it was, Danette wrapped her arms around him. She started speaking again, but this time Deborah did not translate. Danette’s words were vibrant, excited. Deborah’s eyes, however, burrowed into him.
“You lied to us,” Deborah said. “You lied to me.”
“I wanted to tell you, especially you. I didn’t know what to say,” Hiram said. Danette released him and took a step back, giving Deborah room.
“Through this whole damn war people have been lying to us. They told us they put us in that prison to protect us, to give us our own space to be with our own people. They promised if we worked hard no harm would come to us. Then you tell us they plan to kill us. Maybe you are the one who has been lying the whole time.”
“It’s the truth and if we don’t stop this war, the prisoners at Drancy are going to die much sooner,” Hiram said. “We changed the timeline.”
“And now the future’s changed?” she said. “I don’t believe it.”
“Why would I lie?” He tried to calm himself. “It doesn’t matter. I am from the future. And there is a reason I needed to tell you now.”
Danette touched Deborah who returned a venomous look. Deborah talked with Danette for a minute before looking back at Hiram. “Tell us.” Her eyes lightened a little.
“I have a plan to end the war.” Hiram told Deborah and Danette about the nuclear weapons, though neither voiced similar concerns to Sarah’s. He explained the technology as simply as he understood it, hoping they’d grasp the possible impact of using such a device. Deborah listened and translated. Danette nodded, asking a question now and then. “If we can detonate the weapons in strategic locations, we’ve got a hell of a chance to end this war.”
“I’ve sent—”
“Salaud!” Bastard. A new voice joined the conversation. Hiram whipped around to see Barbara climbing down into the gully. She looked at Deborah, spoke as though accusing.
“She wants to know why you didn’t tell us about these weapons before.”
“How long have you been there?” he said to Barbara. Deborah translated.
Barbara threw out a few more words.
Deborah said, “She says ‘long enough. You gave us simple weapons that can kill one man at a time when you have something that can destroy an entire army with one blow.’”
Hiram looked at Deborah. “The weapons I have can destroy an entire city.”
Deborah did not translate.
“We save the families,” Barbara said.
Hiram said nothing.
“We save the families!” Barbara said, her eyes even more disconcerting than the night she took the hunter’s life.
16
2030 hours, Monday, August 3, 1942, south of Périllos Pyrénées-Orientales Department, Vichy France