Dangerous Allies

Chapter Three

The moment all three gazes turned toward Jack his gut twisted into a hard knot. For a fraction of a second all the intense emotions—the guilt, the anger, the need for vengeance—threatened to break free and sweep away his control. But if he relaxed his guard for a moment, no matter the cause, someone would end up dead to night.

Hardening his resolve, Jack searched Kerensky’s face for signs of a hidden agenda. There was obvious distress in her eyes, a clear indication this interruption was not planned. But the woman was a world-renowned actress, one who knew how to drag sympathy out of a man.

He would be a fool to trust her.

As though sensing his reservation, she flashed him a smile and he lost his train of thought. Clenching his jaw, he forced his heartbeat to settle. Yet, no matter how hard he concentrated, he couldn’t look away from those remarkable eyes staring into his.

Kerensky blinked once, twice, finally breaking the spell between them. “Herr Reiter,” she began, addressing him by his assumed alias. “This is my mother, Elena Kerensky, and her escort, Hermann Schmidt.”

Acknowledging the woman first, Jack took Elena’s hand and touched his lips to her knuckles. “It is an honor to meet you. I now see where Katarina gets her beauty.”

“Thank you, Herr Reiter. You are very kind.” She turned to her companion and motioned him forward. “Come, Hermann, say hello to Katarina’s friend.”

As expected of all loyal Germans, Jack stepped back and gave the required Third Reich salute. “Heil Hitler, Kapitän zur See.”

The Nazi returned the gesture with quiet relish. “Heil Hitler.”

On the surface, Hermann Schmidt looked like a typical naval officer, but there was something in his arrogant stance that turned Jack’s blood to ice—an unyielding ruthlessness that he’d seen in too many high-ranking Nazis.

It was the same look that now stared back at him from the mirror every morning.

Was Jack becoming one of them?

Was he losing the last shreds of his humanity?

With each new mission, he played roulette with his soul. He could no longer expect God to hear his prayers or his pleas. Not after the horrors he’d committed in the name of war.

There could be no turning back, no chance of forgiveness. He had to start thinking like the man he was: a man with no future, no hope and a single goal—to hunt and destroy the enemy that had stolen his life from him.

Patience, Jack told himself. In spite of the urgency of his current mission, in spite of the tight deadline, time was his ally. He’d worked too hard building his cover to let an unexpected player in the game throw him off balance now.

Cutting through his thoughts, Elena Kerensky cleared her throat. “Herr Reiter, I don’t believe we’ve met before. Have you known my Katia long?”

Jack noted the concern in the woman’s eyes and decided to use it to ferret out how far Kerensky was willing to go to help the British. “I’ve known Katarina—” he rolled her name off his tongue in a slow caress “—long enough to come to the conclusion that she is a remarkable woman whom I wish to know better.”

Hitting her cue perfectly, Kerensky slid her arm through his and smiled up at him with unmistakable affection. “What a lovely thing to say, darling.”

With surprisingly little effort, he returned her smile as though they’d already become lovers.

Her gaze filled with female vulnerability, and she snuggled closer to him.

He ran a fingertip along her cheek.

There was a time when the God-fearing man Jack had once been would have been appalled by their blatant sexual undertones. But that was before Jack had walked with the enemy, before he’d become an embittered U.S. sailor infiltrating the SS.

Much like this famous actress, he played whatever role was necessary to accomplish his mission. And yet…

As he stared into Kerensky’s beautiful green eyes, Jack couldn’t stop himself from wishing they’d met at another time, and under different circumstances. He wondered if her performance was a remarkable display of acting ability, or something else. Something inherently truthful? Or something coldly sinister?

In that instant, the words of his father came to him.

Always remember, Jack, a woman has more power to destroy a man than any other weapon.

Jack’s pulse soared through his veins. Was Kerensky playing both sides? Had the Germans found out about his deception? Were they using this accomplished actress to bring him down at last?

Subterfuge. Hidden agendas. Jack no longer knew where the intrigue ended and reality began. Even in his own mind he could no longer discern how much of Jack Anderson lived inside him, and how much had become Friedrich Reiter, the deadly SS henchman. Every new mission blurred the line between the two, threatening Jack’s soul bit by bit.

A smart military man always knew when to hold his ground, and when to retreat. For now, his work was done.

Tapping into the ruthless man the Nazis had created, the one who coldly witnessed brutalities without flinching, Jack extracted himself from Kerensky’s grip. Ignoring the sense of loss that took hold of him, he turned to her mother then nodded at Hermann Schmidt. “It was a pleasure meeting you both.”

Keeping his eyes on Kerensky’s face, he took her hand in his and raised it to his lips. “I look forward to our next meeting, my darling.”

She made a soft sound of distress, but they both knew she wouldn’t voice an argument in front of her mother and the Nazi officer. It was a small victory, to be sure, but a victory that put Jack firmly in control of the mission.

He couldn’t have planned a more perfect finale to their first meeting.

Katia stared in muted astonishment as the British spy turned on his heel and headed toward the exit with ground-eating strides.

What now?

A wave of nausea hit, and for the first time all evening her smile threatened to waver. She stood perfectly still until the moment passed.

The man had gunmetal nerve, she’d give him that. Not only had he antagonized a high-ranking Nazi and her own mother with his boldness, he’d left Katia to deal with the messy consequences. Yet, even with frustration burning at the back of her throat, something about the British operative left her wanting…what?

What was it about the man that urged her to let down her guard, if only for a fraction of a second? For a moment tonight, with their arms twined together and their gazes bound in intimate familiarity, she’d forgotten all about playing a role. She’d merely been a woman enthralled with an intriguing man.

From the first moment their gazes had locked and held, she’d sensed her British contact was someone who knew what it meant to be an outsider. Just like her.

Was he a man she could trust?

A lethal thought.

Blind faith, she reminded herself, was nothing more than weakness, a trap that ultimately led to a one-way invitation to the concentration camps.

Another sick spasm clutched in her stomach, but she held her expression free of emotion. If the operative said he looked forward to their next meeting, then she had to believe there would indeed be a next meeting.

All was not lost.

For the moment, she simply needed to concentrate on placating a stunned parent and her suspicious escort.

Sliding a quick glance toward her mother, Katia cut off a sigh of frustration. Elena stood tall, her full attention focused on the British spy as he left through the back door.

“I don’t trust that man,” she muttered, regarding the exit with suspicious eyes. “Tell me again how you know Herr Reiter?”

Rule number one in espionage was to keep as close to the truth as possible. “He is a dear friend, one I see whenever he comes to Hamburg on business.”

Hermann Schmidt made a noise deep in his throat that sounded like a growl. “What, precisely, is his business?”

The uncharacteristic display of interest in her affairs chilled Katia down to the bone. This grim-faced Nazi was not a person with whom her mother should be spending her time. He was a formidable enemy, one who could ruin Elena if he uncovered her secret.

On full alert, Katia played her role cautiously. The key was to keep it simple. Consistent.

“I’m sure he told me once.” She tapped a finger against her chin. “I seem to remember him saying he owned a company that supplies the Third Reich with materials for the war.”

Schmidt’s features turned hard and inflexible, matching the severity of his tightly buttoned uniform and crisp white shirt underneath. “What sort of materials, exactly?”

Katia blinked at his impatience, the cold heat of the dangerous emotion flashing in his eyes. Fortunately, to Hermann Schmidt, beautiful equaled stupid.

The knowledge gave Katia a surge of courage, and a strong conviction to play this role to her utmost ability. Fluttering her lashes, she placed her hand on his arm and gave him an empty smile. Now, if only she wouldn’t throw up and ruin her act. “Is it really so important?”

“Yes.” He leaned over her, his eyes communicating an unmistakable ruthlessness. “It is very important you try to remember exactly what sort of business Herr Reiter owns.”

“You don’t have to take that tone with me.” Katia dropped her hand and pretended to pout, all the while gauging Schmidt’s mood from below her lashes. Why would a mere naval officer care what a man like Friedrich Reiter did for a living?

Before Schmidt responded, Elena pushed in front of him and softened her expression. “Try concentrating, dear.”

“Yes, all right, Mother. I shall try.”

She let out a sigh, careful not to overplay her role. This was no game. One misstep and her mother’s life could be in danger.

In truth, the British had told Katia very little about her contact. Standard operating procedure. For all she knew, Friedrich Reiter was exactly who he pretended to be—a wealthy Austrian shipbuilder.

Having stalled long enough, she drew her eyebrows into a frown. “Yes, I remember now. He is in construction. Or…shipbuilding, perhaps? One of the two.”

Schmidt’s lips flattened into a hard line. “Which is it? Construction or shipbuilding?”

She flung her hair over her shoulder, fully into her role in spite of the German’s open hostility. “Who can remember such tedious details?”

“You seem to have no problem remembering countless pages of dialogue.”

She gave him a pitying look and put the royal princess in her voice. “Herr Reiter is a patron of the arts and he adores me. Nothing else matters beyond that.”

Although he quirked an eyebrow at her, Hermann Schmidt visibly relaxed. “Of course, how could I have forgotten where your priorities lie?”

The sarcastic twist of his lips gave Katia pause. Like so many of his kind, this man was far too sharp to fool for long.

It was time to change the subject.

“Let’s not talk about Herr Reiter anymore.” She turned her focus back to her mother. “I had no idea you were coming to the theater this evening. You said nothing of it this afternoon at tea.”

A slow smile spread across Elena’s face. She looked at her escort with a question in her eyes. “Should I tell her?”

He nodded slowly, but there was a possessiveness in his gaze that had Katia swallowing hard.

Elena took both of Katia’s hands in hers and sighed. “Hermann and I have marvelous news to share with you.”

Katia looked from one to the other. At the happy expression they exchanged, a sick feeling of dread tangled in her stomach.

Oh, no. Please, please, no. “What…what news?”

“We are engaged to be married.”

“Why, that’s…” Katia’s breath caught in her throat. Even if the Lord had long since abandoned Katia, God could not be so cruel. “I…I’m speechless.”

“I’ve been waiting for your mother for many years.” Masculine pride danced in Schmidt’s eyes as he spoke. And something more. Something dark and ugly. And very, very determined. “Now I have her at last.”

Elena moved to the Nazi’s side and positioned herself shoulder to shoulder with him. “As you know, Hermann and I were childhood friends, before I met your father.”

“I remember.” Katia had to sink her teeth into her bottom lip to keep from shouting at her mother to wake from the nightmare that held her in its clutches.

How could Elena, a devout Christian with a secret Jewish grandfather, agree to marry a man whose only god was Germany and whose professed savior was Adolf Hitler?

“Congratulations.” She nearly choked on the words. “I am very happy for you both.”

“Oh, darling.” Elena pulled her into a tight embrace. “I am so glad you’re pleased.”

“I only want you to be happy,” she whispered into her mother’s hair before stepping back.

“Hermann has three days before he ships out again.” Elena’s breath caught in her throat and tears shimmered in her eyes. “It is my fondest wish that all three of us spend time together during his visit.”

Three days? How was Katia to complete her mission for the British with her mother demanding all her time? An unprecedented flush of desperation made her words rush out of her mouth. “But I am in the middle of a play. I have to be here every night and I—”

“Don’t worry, darling.” Elena patted her hand. “We’ll simply spend the days together then have a late supper after your performances.” Her tone was full of determination, a tone Katia knew well. In this, Elena would not relent.

Katia’s composure threatened to crack, then she remembered her British contact’s open declaration for her affections.

The man’s game had been an act, but a brilliant, impromptu one that could be used to her advantage now.

Her best chance was to continue the ruse. “I’m sorry, mother. I have already promised Herr Reiter I would spend the rest of the week with him.”

Elena dismissed the argument with a quick slash of her hand. “Cancel your plans. You must take this opportunity to get to know Hermann.”

Knowing better than to argue at this point, Katia nodded. “Let me see what I can do.”

Unused to having her wishes denied, Elena took the vague promise as complete agreement. “Good. Now that that’s settled, we would like you to join us for a celebratory supper this evening.” Supper? Tonight?

Katia couldn’t bear the idea of breaking bread with Hermann Schmidt. In truth, she feared it with all her heart. But she feared her mother being alone with the man far more. “I would like nothing better. Just give me a moment to change out of my costume.”

Without looking back, Katia fled to her dressing room. Weary from the drama of the evening, she sat staring straight ahead and rubbed her left hand as if it ached. A shocking wave of panic gripped her heart, making her breath sit heavy in her chest.

Overwhelmed, she buried her face inside her palms and fought back the tears burning behind her eyelids.

She was so…incredibly…tired.

How she wanted to accept MI6’s invitation to escape this godforsaken country and live in England for the duration of the war. But Katia couldn’t leave Germany without her mother. And Elena Kerensky would never leave. Not with her recent engagement to her childhood friend, a man who happened to be a ruthless Nazi naval officer.

How would Katia protect her mother now?

Chapter Four

After bidding Elena and her escort good night, Katia shut the door with a soft click. Pressing her eyes closed a moment, she released a sigh of frustration.

The night had gone worse than expected.

Already, she could see that Kapitän zur See Schmidt was going to be a problem. It had been foolish of her to hope otherwise.

The female in her wanted to kick something in frustration. The royal princess in her had been trained too well to give in to the childish display of emotion. The spy in her needed to quit stalling and formulate a plan.

Glancing at the mail laying on the entryway floor, she decided to ignore responsibility a little while longer. Food first, plan second. She hadn’t been able to touch her meal at the restaurant, not with Schmidt firing off pointed questions between scowls.

Clearly, the Nazi neither liked nor trusted her.

Good. At least she knew where she stood with the man. That would make her planning less complicated. She would use her fiercest weapons of cunning, lies and schemes.

Oh, but she was in a despicable business. Thankfully, she’d created many roles for use in her arsenal. By taking on other personas she kept the real Katia separate from the spy.

Rounding the corner, she caught sight of a man lounging in a chair in her east living room. Her chest rose and fell in a sudden spasm, the only outward sign of her inner distress. Otherwise, she stared at the British operative with nothing more than mild curiosity on her face.

He’d tugged his tie loose and had left the ends hanging on each side of his neck. He’d also opened the top three buttons of his shirt, revealing a smooth expanse of corded throat muscles.

Even in his relaxed position, there was a hard edge to him that somehow complemented her feminine decor. This man was one hundred percent rugged male, the quintessential alpha. Although he sat in a chair covered with pink and yellow fabric, he radiated masculinity.

Which did nothing to improve her mood.

How many surprises must she endure in one evening?

“You have exactly sixty seconds to tell me what you’re doing in my home, Herr Reiter.” The calm, detached voice was one of her most useful tools.

For an instant she thought she saw a deep male appreciation in his eyes, but he blinked and the moment was gone.

She lifted her chin a fraction higher. “Well?”

He didn’t respond. Nor did he rise to greet her, as would have been the polite thing to do. Perhaps by remaining seated he was reminding her whom he considered in charge of the mission.

Unfortunately for him, he had the particulars wrong.

“You now have twenty seconds to start talking before I throw you out of my home.”

Leaning farther back in the chair, he hooked an ankle across his knee then glanced at the clock on the mantel. “Actually, we’re now down to fifteen.”

Her earlier desire to kick something turned into an overwhelming urge to kick someone. By sheer force of will she reminded herself that this stranger was to be her partner for the next few days. Their success would bring the British closer to defeating Hitler. A heady prospect.

Katia might be able to carry out her end of the mission alone, but she needed Friedrich Reiter to deliver the plans to MI6. That did not mean, however, she had to make this conversation easy for him. “Tell me, Herr Reiter, how did you know where to find me?”

“It’s my business to know certain, shall we say…” He made a vague gesture with his hand. “Things about you.”

There was something in the way he met her gaze that brought matters to a very basic level between them. Another time she might have enjoyed the challenge of discovering the real man beneath the layer of polish and subterfuge. For now, she could only wonder what motivated him to risk his life for Great Britain. Personal gain, as most of the spies she’d met before him? Or was he answering a higher call?

Either way, the clock was ticking. She couldn’t afford the luxury of delving into his inner psyche right now.

“What sort of…things?” she asked from behind a well-positioned smile.

He slowly unfolded his large frame and rose. As he strode toward her, she shrank back a step, as much startled by her reaction to him as by the intensity in his gaze. He stopped a mere foot away from her, his heat chasing away the sudden cold that had slipped under her coat.