Thanks for your reviews, sorry can't update daily exactly but have put the next chapter up as soon as it was done. Yes the story does draw quite a bit on some of the things happening in the Man in the High Castle which has the Nazi state background/ resistance and the films thing. The Castle mentioned in this chapter is Dunster Castle by the way if you want to know (its beautiful).
And now for more story. Let me know how you like it! Thanks
He knows enough about her habits to know that she wouldn't be leaving the house before 10 unless its absolutely necessary.
Left to her own devices the Princess is messy, with a catlike love of luxury and likes to curl up in her bed for a good hour or two after waking up if possible, although she clearly didn't appreciate his presence in her bed this morning. Or at least put a lot of effort into pretending she didn't.
So he's not the least bit surprised that she doesn't leave the house until 10.35am, when a taxi pulls up to collect her.
He wonders about her. To be able to afford the taxi, and the expensive dresses in her wardrobe – which although not plentiful – all scream both quality and Paris – there must be some money left, even if its not a huge amount.
He dismisses the thought once the taxi pulls out, waits ten seconds and then steps on the accelerator. It takes them ten minutes to get across town, by which time he's already worked out where she's heading.
He parks up thirty feet from where the taxi has stopped and gives her a minute to make her way into the train station then lurks in the shadows near the toilets until he sees she's made it to the front of the queue. After a quick exchange with the cashier she grabs a ticket and heads for the café. He joins the queue.
"I was wondering where the dark haired girl you served a couple of minutes ago is headed – the one in the black dress," he asks, putting on his most charming smile to the grey haired older woman behind the ticketing counter.
The woman raises her eyebrows back at him, surprised.
He's ready with a twenty mark note if need be, but decides to go for charm first. Charm and romance – because he didn't manage to swindle his way into a charmed life in American society without developing an appreciation for how much women love the idea of romance.
"Call me a sucker for a pretty face but I'd like a ticket to wherever she's going," he tells her, leaning into the counter and giving her a winning smile.
"Well it's not really standard for me to say, sir, but who am I to stand in the way of young love? She's going to Watchet," she tells him, lapping up his story with relish.
"Right - a ticket to Watchet it is then," he repeats.
"Nine marks fifty sir," she tells him.
He hands over his money. "Where exactly is Watchet then?" he asks.
The lady takes his money. "North Devon, beautiful part of the country, lovely area for a day trip."
"Great," he nods as he collects his ticket.
"Hope you get the girl sir," she tells him, winking.
He smirks. "Yeah, I'm gonna get her for sure," he tells her, whipping around to start striding across the rail station concourse, then deposits his ticket in the rubbish, and heads for his car as he calculates his route to Devon.
He arrives a good half hour before her.
He assumes she's had to change trains, probably more than once and he's had his foot on the pedal because whenever he's behind the wheel he needs the rush of adrenalin the speed provides anyway.
When he spots her, she's made her way out of the train station and she walks down towards the neighbourhood park nearby, and then waits.
From his car he can keeps an eye on her. And he thinks that whoever she's working for should really know better.
Because her dress is too expensive and clings to her in all the right places, her hair is too shiny and her complexion is too luminous so that the overall effect is too beautiful. And people – Nazi soldiers, the Polizei, whoever, are going to notice her. She draws attention to herself merely by being there.
His thoughts are interrupted when an old black car pulls up beside her. There is a quick exchange between the driver and the Princess. Then the drivers opens the door and comes around to the side and places her case in the boot and opens the passenger door.
The Princess steps into the car and then they pull out into the road again and he gives them a moment before he follows. They only travel for a few minutes before they pull up at a nondescript house.
He parks up just around the corner, pulls his hat down low and takes a seat on a park bench where he has a view of the house. By the time the two of them emerge again its dark, and his patience is wearing thin.
Her lines are so carefully rehearsed she thinks she could say them in her sleep.
And at first everything goes so perfectly and it all seems so easy.
The guard is young – late 20s maybe – and thankfully English with slicked back dark hair and a self-assured air and he answers her first question with ease about how she can get a pass to travel to York.
"Come back here tomorrow afternoon after 3 and they'll assess your request Miss," he tells her. "You local then? I haven't seen you round, and I'd remember a pretty face like yours."
She nods, "I've only been here a couple of months though, before that I was living in Kent."
"Nice. Say you come back tomorrow bout 4.30, they can look at your papers, and then we could get a drink if you're keen," he offers.
She smiles back at him and nods. "So long as it's a double, and you're paying, handsome," she flirts back.
"Of course," he assures her.
Behind them the outline of the Castle looms large. Over thirty men are locked up in the ancient fortress. And while only two guards stand sentry at the front gate, a dozen more are on duty inside.
"Cold night, huh," he adds, stepping in to her and suggestively and putting an arm around her.
The other guard glances over at them with disinterest, then returns his attention to his post.
She reaches inside her coat and extracts a cigarette and lighter then lights up, exhaling seductively.
"You want one?" she asks, pulling another cigarette out and offering it to him.
He nods, "Yeah. But let me show you the river darling," he suggests, taking her arm and propelling her away from the castle.
She lets him take her away from the Gate and the castle lights and towards the gardens.
He pauses on an old stone bridge and she looks down into the fast flowing water. Her palms are sweaty and her throat is dry.
"They call this Lover's bridge," he tells her.
He takes another drag of his cigarette. "You know I could probably swing it to get you your travel pass tomorrow. Have a word with the Kommandant," he tells her.
"I'd be grateful," she tells him. And she doesn't bother with the flirting anymore because she's got him right where she's supposed to have him, and she doesn't need anything more from him tonight.
But it seems he wants more, because he steps in to kiss her.
He's not a bad kisser, just not good. But she lets him anyway, even threads her hand into his uniform labels and opens her mouth with pretend enthusiasm and lets him stick his tongue in, because she remembers why she is here.
And she remembers what and who this is all about.
From the anonymity of his spot behind a tree in the castle grounds, he's watched it all unfold.
Saw the Princess approach the guard and strike up a conversation.
Saw her offer him a cigarette, and him take her arm and lead her away from the gate and into the garden.
Saw a man in dark coloured clothing slip up behind the other guard, place his hand over his mouth and slit his throat.
Saw another half dozen men in civilian clothes silently slip into the castle.
And at no point did he feel inclined to do anything to stop this. That's not part of his role, and the fact that this regime has compelled him to act as their agent for the past six month hasn't installed in him a brotherly love for the Nazi state or its soldiers. And now this is in full swing its unlikely that he alone could stop it. No – much better to get some intel on this and be the one who uncovers those involved in the plot afterwards when the Obergruppenfuhrer is baying for blood. So he's been occupying himself making notes about the resistance involvement in this little operation.
In fact the only thing that really bothers him about this whole thing is what the hell the Princess and the other guard are doing in the gardens, and he doesn't even know why he should care about that at all, except that he does.
It's only after the silent band of assassins have been inside the castle for a good ten minutes that all hell breaks out. He sees it before he hears it because the spotlights illuminate up inside the castle and then the siren starts wailing, followed by the sound of orders being shouted first in German and then English.
And then a scattering of men rush out the gate, some in civilian clothes, some in prison uniforms and rush towards the road where three vehicles are waiting.
And then there is a clatter of leather boots running and four, five, six guards emerge from the castle with machine guns in hand.
And he doesn't even know why he does it - he doesn't think at all - but now he's not hiding anymore but he's making for the river, in long strides as fast as he can.
On the road below he can hear one of the vehicles fires up straight away, and another one starts up a minute later.
The guards are yelling and running down towards the road and as he gets closer to the river he can hear more shouting.
He rounds the corner and in front of him is an old bridge.
As he gets closer even though its dark, by the moonlight he can see the guard has the Princess pressed against the bridge.
"You little bitch, you're one of them aren't you, luring me down here, probably trying to get me killed. Well I'll bloody teach you to try that on with me –"
Two steps more and he can see they're both half undressed and once he sees he has his hands around her neck, even before the guard drops his hand to reach for the revolver in his pocket, Jasper has drawn his gun.
"Step aside from the lady," he says coolly.
The guard swings around and regards him open mouthed. The Princess has her hands around her neck, gasping for air and staggers away from the guard.
"Who are-"
The guard doesn't even get to finish his question before two shots leave his gun, the sound masked by his silencer.
He falls to the ground immediately and then Jasper takes two quick steps forward and grabs the Princess by the hand, pulling her along by his momentum and they are running, away from the flashlights and sirens and the sound of shots and dogs barking – running faster than ever before.
Running for their lives.