The Iron Storm by CW Browning (classic literature books TXT) 📕

the alley where Voss was lurking. He smiled faintly at the thought of the SS man standing for hours while he’d been sitting in a car. He turned off the engine and looked over to the house. He had a clear view down the narrow alley now, and of the side door. Whether Jens left by the front door or the side, he would see him.

Eisenjager shifted in his seat so that he could watch comfortably. He thought of Voss and his arrangement with Asp to retrieve the information given to him by the courier. Eisenjager had no such instructions from Berlin. He didn’t even know if Jen carried information, although the last transmission had made it seem as if he might be. Frowning, he realized that he didn’t know anything about his target at all. Why did Berlin want him in the first place? And why had they changed their mind now? Had Voss been given instructions regarding any papers that might have been passed from the Belgian in addition to those carried by the courier?

Shaking his head, he pushed the questions aside. He wasn’t here to gather information that may or may not be in the house across the road. He was here for one purpose: to kill Jens Bernard and the courier who had carried a package all the way from Antwerp. That was it.

And that was precisely what he would do.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

“I’d given up on your coming today,” Asp said, leading the way down a corridor towards a room in the front of the house. “I’m glad you made it. Who is this you’ve brought with you?”

“A friend,” Jens said. “She was trapped in Brussels when the Germans launched the invasion. I offered for her to come with me.”

Asp motioned them into the sitting room and smiled at Evelyn as she followed Jens into the room.

“And does your friend have a name?” he asked, following them.

“Annette Beaumont,” Evelyn answered, turning and smiling. “Jens didn’t tell me what your name was. In fact, he’s been very mysterious about this whole visit. All he would tell me is that you’re an old friend.” She held up her hands, a picture of amused despair. “What shall I call you?”

“My friends call me Asp. I hope you will as well, mademoiselle.”

“Asp? What a funny name! Oh! I’m sorry. I meant no offense.”

Asp smiled. “None was taken. It is a silly name. It’s one I’ve carried since I was a boy in school. I’m afraid I never really got rid of it as we grew older.”

“I’m sure there’s an interesting story there,” she said gaily before glancing at Jens. She sobered comically and looked at Asp again ruefully. “Although I don’t think Jens shares my enthusiasm. I’ve been told I have a tendency to talk too much, and I suppose I’m doing that now. I’ll refrain and let you boys have your discussion.”

“It won’t take but a moment, and then you may talk to your heart’s content,” Asp assured her, walking across the room towards the window where a small desk held a lamp. “I’ll just draw the curtains for privacy.”

Jens had been watching the banter between them with a look of bemusement on his face. As Asp walked away from them, he shot Evelyn a look of confusion. She smiled calmly and shook her head very slightly. She had given the alias to their host in a moment of sudden panic, forgetting that Jens only knew her by Marie. But when Asp had asked her name, the only thought in her mind was that if the SS were truly on her tail, they would know the name Marie Fournier. The last thing she wanted to do was gamble on the chance that Asp hadn’t heard that name yet.

“I must get this lamp fixed,” Asp was saying as he drew the heavy blackout curtains closed. “If I so much as knock the table, the light goes out. It’s really a nuisance sometimes.”

“I’ll take a look at it if you like,” Jens offered. “I’m good with electrical things.”

Asp turned away from the window, waving the offer away. “No, it’s quite all right. I’ll take care of it later. Now, I believe you said you had some letters for me?” he asked, glancing at Evelyn. “From our old professor?”

Jens swallowed and nodded, reaching into his coat pocket. He pulled out a rolled leather folder and held it out.

“I’m sorry for the delay. The invasion sent everything into chaos,” he said with a smile.

“Please don’t think anything of it,” Asp said, taking the roll. “You’re very fortunate to have been able to get out of Belgium as quickly as you did. I’ve heard that the Germans are bombing the roads now, and targeting the citizens trying to flee.”

Evelyn gasped, feigning shock. “No!”

Asp nodded soberly and turned to carry the roll across the room towards the window. “Yes, mademoiselle. It’s a very sad business.”

They watched as he bent down and pulled back the rug in front of the window. Evelyn’s eyebrows soared into her forehead when he pulled up part of the floor board to reveal a hidden compartment. He dropped the roll inside and replaced the board.

“You must stay for a drink,” he said, replacing the rug. “I have a very good port that I think you’ll like.”

“Thank you, but Mari—Annette is anxious to get to Paris,” Jens said.

Evelyn inwardly winced at his slip, her breath catching in her throat. She managed to keep her face neutral as if nothing had happened while her heart started pounding. Asp looked up sharply, his gaze piercing, before he stood up again.

“What a shame. Another time perhaps.” He walked over to a side table and opened a box, pulling out a cigarette. “You were in Brussels, mademoiselle? Were you visiting friends perhaps?”

“No. I was there to deliver some messages and make appointments for my employer. I’m a secretary for a businessman. He was detained at a conference in Switzerland and sent me to Belgium in his stead.”

“How