A/N: I wanted to make a quick apology. It was brought to my attention that for a few hours, I had the wrong chapter up for chapter 8. For those who read the wrong chapter, the correct one is up now. I apologize for the inconvenience. Now, onto the next part of the story, in which we discover the backup location. I had some interesting thoughts about where it could be, but no one picked the right country. It was a difficult one, I admit, but hopefully you'll see why I picked this one over others.
"You punched an SS guard? Are you crazy, woman?!"
Helga groaned and placed her head on the kitchen table. Sitting with her were Arnold, Phoebe, and a stunned Gerald. He arrived while Sid was out and the Jewish roommates were downstairs. He had just been informed of recent events, but had a difficult time comprehending anything beyond Helga's assault. She glared at him.
"For the last time, yes I punched him. I'm not proud of it nor am I crazy. Now, can you please focus on why you're here, Hair Boy, before I lay my fists on you?"
"Mmm, mmm, mmm. You are crazy, aren't you?"
"Gerald, please," Arnold begged. "Now is not the time. We need to get a plan set up."
"I concur," Phoebe chimed in. "We don't know how much time we have to stay here, so it will be best to be prepared."
"Alright, I get it," Gerald surrendered. He placed a map on the table. "Arnold told me you were wanting to have a backup plan in case all this blows up in your face."
"More or less," Helga replied. "Can you help us?"
"That's what the map's for," Gerald explained. "Okay, as you know, most of Europe is German occupied. The Allied nations consist of Britain and the Soviet Union."
"I don't think it will be wise to go to any Allied nations," Phoebe stated. "There is a lot of fighting going on in both of those countries. England has been having of air raids and it would be deadly to cross the battle lines in the Soviet."
"I agree," said Helga. "We need a place where there isn't fighting."
"Then you need a neutral country."
""Which countries are neutral?" Arnold asked.
"Currently, there are seven neutral countries: Andorra, Spain, Portugal, Ireland, Switzerland, Sweden, and Iceland. There is also Vatican City, but I don't know how you all feel about that."
"I don't like the idea of having to go through Italy," Arnold admitted. "I can't imagine how Mussolini must be, and I don't want to find out."
"Okay, then," Gerald said. "Any other problems with any of the countries?"
"I have a concern with those far away," mentioned Phoebe. "I believe we need to stay close. The longer the journey, the more likely we won't survive."
"How long do you want to spend traveling?" Gerald asked.
"I would say no more than a week."
"In that case, may I suggest eliminating all of them except Switzerland and Sweden."
"Okay, so we have it down to two," said Helga. "If we're voting, I pick Sweden. At least there is a sea that would separate us from Germany."
"But Switzerland has the Alps to separate the two countries," Gerald countered. "Besides, we would have to figure out a way to cross the Baltic Sea. Not to mention there are U-boats all over. What if we are struck with one?"
"I'd rather drown than have a Nazi get me! And how do you propose we get to Switzerland? Hike across Germany?"
"I haven't gotten there, yet," admitted Gerald.
"And you don't know anyone who can take us to Sweden?" Phoebe asked.
Gerald was quiet for a moment. His face twisted into a guilty look that everyone at the table noticed.
"Spill it, Hair Boy!"
"Okay! There is someone I know in the shipping industry. Another informant, Sheena, has an uncle who transports cargo between Police and Stockholm."
"Would you be willing to see if he could stow us away?" Arnold asked.
Gerald sighed. "I'll make some calls."
"Helga, correct me if I'm wrong, but don't we know someone with a vacation home in Stockholm?"
Helga thought for a moment. They led her to when she was a child and her ambassador friends were over. "Rhonda," Helga realized. "She always mentioned her summers there. I'm sure they still have it. I wouldn't be surprised if they're living there now with all the bombings in Britain."
"Gerald, will you be able to find out if the Lloyds are residing in Stockholm?" Phoebe asked.
"I'll ask my superior," he answered.
"Wait, I thought Sid is your superior?" asked Helga.
"Not exactly," Gerald explained. "Sid and I work for the same person. We're more like partners. He carries supplies while I provide information. We work together in the Krakow division. There are divisions all over the place and we are under one leader."
"Who is your leader?" Arnold asked.
"He is known by Fuzzy Slippers."
"Fuzzy Slippers?" chortled Helga. "You're joking, right?"
"We don't joke about Fuzzy Slippers. Besides, he's the one who told me about you two. He motioned to Helga and Phoebe. The two girls shrunk in their seats.
"Okay, so we have a destination from Police to Stockholm. We just need to get to Police," said Arnold. "Any ideas how?"
"I don't recommend all leaving the house at the same time," suggested Phoebe. "It would be too obvious."
"Agreed," answered Helga. "I think we need to divide ourselves into small groups. Each group will leave here at different times to a meeting place outside of town. There, we will get into a truck and drive to Police."
"Won't it be suspicious to be carrying suitcases?" Gerald asked.
"We won't. We will wear everything we own and hide the valuables in our pockets."
"Where do you suggest we meet up?" Phoebe inquired.
"Curly's house," Arnold said. "It's out of the city and it's secluded. Plus, Curly has a truck."
"Can we even be sure he will agree to it?" asked Gerald.
"He will," explained Helga. "Rhonda's involved. He will do whatever it takes to be with her, and if that means to help us, so be it."
"Sounds like we have a plan," said Arnold.
"What are we going to tell Sid?"
"We will tell him the truth, Gerald. He doesn't need to do anything except keep our secret."
"Whatever you say, man."
"I think we should let the others know," said Phoebe. "Gerald, would you accompany me?" Helga eyed Phoebe in curiosity.
"I would love to," replied Gerald. The two got up and went downstairs, leaving Helga and Arnold at the table.
"Did that seem a bit odd to you?" asked Arnold.
"I think they enjoy each other's company quite a bit," suggested Helga.
"Hmm. I can see them working out."
"Do you, now?"
"I do. They just seem right for each other," he smiled. "How are you feeling about all of this?"
"If you mean the plan, then I'm glad we have it set up."
"But there's something bothering you, isn't there?"
Helga didn't know what to say. She wasn't ready to talk about Arnold's disappearance or his time in Auschwitz. On the other hand, she doubted she would ever be ready. She took a deep breath to prepare herself.
"Actually, yes. There's been something that has been bothering me for quite some time now," she began, her voice shaking, unable to look at Arnold.
He placed a hand on her shoulder. Whatever it is, Helga, you can tell me."
"Well… I was wondering why you left three years ago. You didn't say why or where. You didn't even warn me." Her voice grew angry. "You just left me all alone, surrounded by Nazis. You could have told me, or bring me with you. And when I find you again, you're in Auschwitz of all places!" She clenched her eyes shut to prevent tears from escaping. She refused to cry, especially in front of him.
"Don't you think I wanted to tell you?" he asked with a hurt voice.
"How am I supposed to know Arnoldo? You never told me anything!"
"And it never occurred to you that I had a reason why I didn't?"
"Then enlighten me, Football Head," she said sarcastically, crossing her arms. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"Could you please look at me?" he pleaded. She let out a sigh and looked at him. He looked calm. Helga had to remind herself that she was mad at him. "I didn't tell you why I left for your safety. Where I was going involved danger and I didn't want you in trouble. And if you didn't know where I was, the Nazis couldn't link you to me."
Helga's face softened a little, but she quickly pulled her body in tighter. "What did you do that was so dangerous?" she asked forcefully.
"You'll probably hate me for this, but I lied to you when we were younger. I always knew where Harold, Patty, and Eugene were."
"You what?!"
"I know, I'm sorry. They asked me to keep it a secret, so I did. When I found out that the Nazis were planning on invading Poland, I knew I had to get them out of Berlin. My grandparents were dead, as you know, and there was no one to operate the boarding house so I closed it up, grab our friends, and we left."
"I can't believe this. Where did you go?"
"Paris."
"Paris? Why Paris?" Then it dawned on her. "You didn't."
Arnold lowered his head down in shame. "I did."
"You went to your pen pal Cecile? That girl's an idiot!"
"Well, I know that now. But we had nowhere else to go. We didn't know anyone else in Paris. For the most part, it was working out fine. It got difficult when Germany took over France, but we managed. Then, in February, Cecile ratted us out to an officer. I would have been killed immediately but the soldier who arrested us recognized me from Hitler Youth. He had me sent to Auschwitz instead as a traitor. While I was there, I managed to get on the SS's good side. They had me work with administration. I managed to get some extra food, which I would share with those in my barracks. A few months later, I saw your father in the office. He didn't recognize me, thankfully, so I was able to hear him say you were coming to the camp to visit. I knew I had to be ready and somehow convince you to get us out. And you did, which I'm grateful for."
As Arnold finished his story, Helga didn't know what to think. A mixture of emotions swam through her body. She was mad because he lied, hurt because he left, scared that he almost died, and relieved that she saved them in time. Most of all, she felt her love for him grow stronger. She knew he didn't mean to hurt her; he did it to protect her. But her pride overtook her.
"Who said I needed you to keep me safe, Football Head?" she spat. "I could have handled you telling me the truth."
"You don't get it, do you?" his voice laced with frustration. "Do you think I could have lived with myself if something were to happen to you? What I did was dangerous, and if I subjected you to that and you ended up in Auschwitz, I never would have forgiven myself! Don't you see how much I care about you?"
Helga's eyes widened in shock. Did her ears deceive her? Did he really just admit that he cared about her? Her body loosened.
"Do you really mean that?" she whispered.
He wrapped his arms around her shoulders. "I really do, Helga. Ever since before I left, all I thought about was you. These past three years were so lonely without you. They were unbearable. But I promise you, I'm never leaving your side again."
She looked at him, her heart beating fast. Her stomach was in knots. "Don't tease me."
He smiled at her and pulled her in closely. He lifted her chin and pressed his lips softly against hers. She couldn't believe what was happening. He was kissing her! She could have sworn she was dreaming. Helga began to kiss him back, molding her lips against his. She wrapped her arms around him and pinched herself. She felt the pain in radiate through her arm, and she was elated knowing it was real.
He pulled back softly and looked at her.
"Never," he said, then placed his lips back on hers.