Disclaimer: You will be shocked, shocked to learn I do not hold the copyright to Casablanca.
The Lady is a Spy
Chapter 1
Yvonne's hands were shaking so badly she didn't know how she could possibly shoot the two men. She hunkered in the shadows of the Casablanca train station, took long breaths, and willed her heart to slow.
She had to do this. She had to.
In the distance, the dark form of the train from Oran drew ever closer, its headlight so bright it gleamed even in the glare of the desert afternoon. The heat from the endless Sahara drifted up in undulating waves, glistening ironically like water. The train's approach across the desert was surreal, like a giant iron sea snake with a Cyclops eye. It was coming, and when it got here, Yvonne knew she had to do it.
Captain Heinz had been very specific. As soon as the train arrived, maybe even before it came to a complete stop, she was to get onboard. There might be passengers already heading for the exit. She was to push through them and was to immediately get to compartment 4-03. Open the door. Inside, there would be two men, one with an attaché case chained to his wrist. Then, with the pistol Heinz had given her, she was to first shoot the man without the attaché case. He'd be the guard, and he'd be armed and dangerous. The other was just a clerk. He probably wouldn't have a gun, and he'd be hampered by the attaché case. So, kill him second. Then take the bolt cutters Heinz had given her and had shown her how to use, cut the chain, take the attaché case, and bring immediately it to Heinz at the German consulate.
Do it, and her brother would finally be freed from the Nazi concentration camp. Don't do it, and her brother would not live out the week. Life may be cheap in Casablanca, but it was far cheaper in a concentration camp.
So Yvonne would do as Heinz had ordered, even though his instructions made no sense. The two couriers were already bringing the attaché case to Heinz. That was their mission. Wait just a few minutes, and they'd bring it to him. Why kill them to get the case? Heinz's instructions were madness, but if carrying them out would free her brother, she would kill the two men and get the case.
Fear ran up and down her arms and legs like ants. Her heart was racing again. She stood and steeled herself.
Near the rear of the train, a window opened, and a small man wearing a yellow suit and carrying an attaché case jumped out. The man fell when he hit the ground, tumbling in the dust. At this distance, it was hard to tell, but he might be Ugarté. The little man regained his feet, glanced quickly around to get his bearings and then ran off with the case.
Had it been Ugarté? The greasy little man was a freelancer whom Heinz employed from time to time, and it'd be just like that fat slob of a German to send out two agents on the same job. The little man had been carrying an attaché case, so maybe. On the other hand, there were more than one attaché case in the world, and the little man had not run off in the direction of the German consulate or even towards Ugarté's pigsty of an apartment. The only thing of interest in the direction he had run off to was Rick's Café Américain.
Should she follow him?
No. What if the two couriers were still alive and still had the attaché case? She had to be sure. She dried her palms on her skirt, gripped the satchel with the bolt cutters and pistol inside, and prepared to run.
A shriek of a police whistle cut the air. In a roar of gasoline exhaust and road dust, three touring cars filled with Vichy police skidded around the corner, raced across the dirt, and screeched to a halt beside the railroad track. The policemen piled out and took up positions along both sides of the track where the train would be stopping.
My god what was happening? Yvonne sprinted forward and charged up to their officer. "What's going on?" she demanded.
"Step back, s'il vous plait."
"Tell me!"
He saw the panic in her eyes. "We received a message from the train. Two men have been murdered. The killer must still be aboard. Step back, please. There may be gun play."
She stumbled away, head reeling. The little man had indeed been Ugarté. He had killed the couriers before she had a chance to, and now he had the case.
Her brother was doomed.