Later – Dusk
Train to Bremen, Germany – 1832 Hours

I don't know exactly where we are, but that we are on a train heading to Bremen, Germany, which is a settlement, a few miles to the shore and the boat that will take us to England. The schedule here says that at about 1930 hours we'll be there and then there will be another train that will head to Bremerhaven, a town closer to the shore. I wanted to head to Wilhelmshaven, which is closer to what I wanted to be, but according to Rob, there have been more patrols there that have been watching out for any suspicious activity, so I pushed Carter to the train, at wherever we were previously after leaving Münster, to Bremen.

You might wonder why we're in charge of our journey now and not heading to the stations and seeking help from other agents. I know that we were supposed to be at the second Underground station at Osnabruck, but I have deemed it too dangerous. Rob will be worried, I'm sure, but I'm also very certain that we'll run into the Gestapo there as they did in Münster. It was a close call!

Carter did suggest that we go to the second station at Osnabruck, and check it out just in case it was safe, but I countered him. Our spy (if there is such thing) might be involved in our journey to England and might know where we're going, hence the Gestapo at Münster. The Gestapo may be following us and I can't risk the two of us going to Osnabruck. Carter understood and even searched for the train schedules and had escorted me to the one at 1730 hours. So far, there has been no Gestapo agents chasing us and my neck isn't telling me about danger. I believe that we're safe this time.

Rob already has probably heard that there has been a Gestapo massacre at Münster. He couldn't believe that I'm dead, because he knows that I can survive anything (not that I'm invincible or anything). But I can't believe what happened at Utopia's came to pass. I can't comprehend the demise he and Southern Cross must have suffered as the Gestapo came into their home and demanded why they housed Underground agents and accused them of such before shooting them, most likely. We could have been a part of it, but got away in time.

Carter had corked off about the time I finished writing last (Silence at last, I thought as I laid back and relaxed). I was ready to fall asleep too, but something was bothering me. Although my neck hadn't been troubling me, it had started to prickle and it intensified as I moved closer to our attic room's doorway. I was curious about something, but somehow knew, at the same time, that if I went downstairs, something will happen to us. And soon enough, I knew what it was.

Although the door and the window at the head of our cots were closed, I could hear some sirens and men stomping their boots out of their cars and pushing their way into the house. I then knew that the Gestapo was here. That was why my neck was prickling.

From the door, I ran to the window. Crouching low, I saw what confirmed my fears. Yes, the Gestapo was around and in hordes. There were about six cars full of them, and (I thank G-d for this) Hochstetter was not there. He'll automatically think we're here and search every inch of the house to see to it. He also works in the Hammelburg unit, but I knew that he would, any time, would come out to any part of Germany and arrest those who he thinks are enemies of the state, and that Carter and I are.

Either way, Carter and I had to get out of there, and quickly.

Carter woke up to the obnoxious sirens and was alarmed in seeing me at the window and most likely thinking of what we can do to get of the danger we're in. He sensed it too, and drew his gun from his boot.

Turning around immediately, I said, "Carter put your gun down. Do you have everything packed up?"

"Yes, Mad'm, and I –" Carter started.

I knew what he was thinking about. "Carter," I hissed, remembering at the time that my gun, tempted as I was to use it too, was in my boot as well, "the Gestapo is here in herds and I don't think a two-person army will be able to take them on."

"Yes, Mad'm," Carter answered back and quickly, he put his gun away and gathered his bag and slung it over his shoulders. He then headed for the door with his bag, but I lunged for his legs and stopped him before he could get killed. My neck was killing me still as I was lying on the floor, scared.

I said, as Carter balanced himself again after I went for his legs, "Carter, Basil Rathbone must be having a party down here and we shouldn't interfere." He smiled, remembering such a time before this war I bet, and then I brought him back to reality. I just had to get him to understand that we're trapped up here and need to somehow get down to the ground from this attic and not remember what we did in civilian life. So, as Carter stood there flabbergasted and I was suspended on the floor, I thought of it. It was so obvious and the simplest getaway.

"Carter," I said as soon as I let go of his legs and stood up, "do you have any rope?"

"Yes, Mad'm," Carter repeated as he unhooked the bag from his shoulders and handed the neat pile to me. "But what do we need it for?"

"Well," I said as I dusted myself off and heard the satisfying shattering of dishes downstairs, "if it's long enough, we can escape through this small window. I don't know if you're small enough to fit through the window like I can…and this is long enough, I think…but under no circumstances can we break the window. The Gestapo is all up at the front, and we're in the back of the building. If we can make it to the fields which is about…" I looked out the window briefly and figured out a distance, "…I guess a mile away, thereabouts. The Gestapo will be searching everywhere for us because someone most likely tipped them off, so we have to move quickly."

Stomping up the stairs stopped me from talking. What if they heard me and Carter? It was all I thought as I motioned that Carter stay quiet as we tiptoe to the window. Carter followed my example and even helped me to heave that window open. Hard as it was to open the thing (much akin to most everywhere in this attic, it was rusty and needed some oil or some cleaning), I managed with Carter. The small window creaked open with protest, but at least I could go through with no trouble (I was thin enough). I didn't know about Carter, though.

Carter had taken the rope from me and tied it to the nearest thing, which was a corroded hook hanging above the window. "Are you sure you're tying that tight enough?" I nervously teased Carter as he finished tying the rope and helped me to position myself to go down.

"Yes, Mad'm," Carter said as he took my bag and put on his shoulders next to his.

I was anxious to leave, and especially get out of the way of the Gestapo. So, with my reckless behavior, I climbed out too quickly and before Carter could help me to steady myself, I went down the rope, but I held onto it, persistent in not falling. I went down the rope as I jumped against the house, giving my hands a friction burn, and waited for Carter to come down and follow me. He managed to squeeze out and carried our belongings too, tugging at the rope to have to come to his hands as he hit the ground.

Nodding and grabbing what was mine, we started dodging a group of Gestapo (they had just come around to the back) and jumped behind some trees beyond Utopia's farm. We stayed still for a few minutes and then left, running away from the group of Gestapo goons as they went around the house again. They didn't spot us, thank G-d.

I don't think we stopped running away from the Gestapo (Carter was behind me the whole way and didn't bother to look back) until, about a few miles down the road and beyond the fields. We had found another train station then. It was the perfect way to escape and avoid detection, but it was not a guaranteed safe way out of Germany.

With some money Carter had on him (from the counterfeit vault of our tunnels, of course), we bought tickets and waited for the next train out of the way of the Gestapo. I didn't care which direction we went to (we just picked a random town), just as long as we were not followed or caught. Well, all and all, I think we went too far away from the coast but at least we were away from danger. It was a waste of time, of course, but I think Rob will understand. Safety comes over a mission, in my opinion.

Still running after we reached our next destination, wherever it may be (I wasn't paying attention t anything, even distance, and was only concerned that the Gestapo wasn't following us), Carter and I headed for the nearest abandoned barn, which was a mile away from the train station we left behind. We settled there for a while and somehow, in this mix of worry and stress, I fell asleep. I hadn't had any in a while and the little nap before we left the Gestapo behind us didn't help me.

~00~

The next thing I remembered was being warm. That, and my neck was slightly bothering me. It wasn't a good sign at all. I needed to know where I was and what was going on.

A fireplace illuminated where I was lying. It was nighttime, or close to it for the sun was down or covered in clouds, shrouded in darkness. As I sat up, I saw that Carter was alive and well still and that nobody followed us. He was poking at the fire and was startled to see me awake. He went over to me and wrapped a blanket around my shoulders. I thanked him and went to the fire, trying to figure out what was wrong with this scene.

"It was n-nothing, Mad'm," he said as he wrapped the blanket closer to me and held me from behind. Indeed, it was cold in here. Where are we? And why is it so cold in here, despite it being the middle of August in Germany? Did we head too far east or something? Are we near the Eastern Front?

As Carter held me from behind, rubbing my shoulders (the right one ached a little), I asked my questions. "Where are we, Carter? And how far away is the Gestapo? I didn't bother to keep track of where we went or in which direction. It's my fault, I guess, but I was more concerned about the Gestapo."

"I don't know where the Gestapo is, Mad'm," Carter said as he finally let go of me. "But we a-are in Bie…Bie…"

"Do you mean Bielefeld, Carter?" I asked. So, that was where we went. I had suddenly remembered asking the person who sold tickets where we could head out, and where the last stop was, and he mentioned that it was Bielefeld. That was way out of the way and far from the coast. We went east! But we're not near the Russian lines yet.

"That was it! Bie…Bieli…Bielu…?"

I sighed. "It's Bielefeld, Carter," I said again, "and we're miles away from the main course."

I took off the blanket, warm enough as it was. Carter may be protesting this, but the wheels in my mind were already creaking again and another plan was coming into motion. We needed another plan and we needed it fast. I knew that we were far away from where we needed to be, so we obviously need a faster way of transportation (and not walking) that would get us to the shore and to England before our week and a half is over.

"We need to head north and not east, Carter" I stated (the obvious). "I don't want to head to Berlin, much less Stalingrad. Are there any train stations nearby and not the one we just got off? There is a civilian station at the second Underground stop in Osnabruck. But we can't risk heading to the next Underground station and it's too far away from here, I believe." I rubbed my forehead, not believing it being almost a year since I traveled across Germany the last time.

"And the Gestapo is everywhere!" Carter said.

"Did you say everywhere, Carter?" I was suddenly given this burst of energy by this statement. I was so worked up in hearing of this that I was at Carter's face and shaking his shoulders before I knew it…or he did, for that matter. "How far away are they from here? Did they follow us? Did they even notice us?"

Carter gulped audibly. He had a hard time in replying to me, but I got what I needed before he could stutter badly enough. "The-there are cars g-going by ever-every now and t-then. I-I d-d-d-don't think the-they noticed us. W-w-w-we're in a b-b-b-barn f-far a-a-a-aw-way and no-no-nobody w-will find us the-there."

I stopped shaking and let go of Carter, calming down enough to speak serenely and with sincerity. "Thank you, Carter," I said, "but I get excited when 'Gestapo is everywhere' is said. And if there are patrols coming by every once in a while, then we need to get going and we have to go in the cover of darkness, avoiding suspicion. They would suspect something if we were here. If not, and just walking to the nearest train station, we might be safe, depending on how stupid they are."

I sighed. "So, we need to extinguish that fire, gather everything and head out. Now, is there a train station nearby? It can't be the one we got off of, remember." That was the second time I asked the last question, so it was imperative to seek its answer.

"Yes, Mad'm," Carter said, recovering from his scare, "and it goes to Bremen."

"That's less than thirty-five miles from the shore thereabouts," I remembered. I started to pace the small room we were in (I tried not to throw up at the smell of human waste and dirt) and trying to figure out where we can go from there and to put out that fire for it might attract attention. I knew that the Gestapo would have us in a sling if they saw us in here, "homeless" or not.

"Carter," I finally said, stopping mid-step much like Rob does, "do you know what time that train heads to Bremen?"

"Well, Mad'm," Carter said, calm as a cucumber, "it leaves at about five-thirty and h-heads to someplace called Bremen, and then there's another train that goes to someplace called…called…now, I knew it, it was something that began with a B…Bre…Bra? Or was it Brimer…?"

"Bremerhaven?" I asked, exasperated, remembering German towns along the coast.

I smacked my forehead as Carter said, "Yes! Bremerhaven! And then, there are ships and boats there, I think, that g-go to England." Carter then grinned at me, as if he was a child that knew he did something good, smiling and waiting for his reward. And indeed, I was impressed, despite my frustration. He looked into the train schedules with me in tow and he thought ahead instead of thinking of his explosives. He even answered me with adequate replies, despite my excitement and beforehand, stupidity at shaking him. I should congratulate him. But should I right now, in our time of danger?

"You've done a great job, Carter," I said deciding for praising him. "How long is it from here to the train station?"

"About less than half a mile in the opposite direction, Mad'm," Carter said beaming, "and I think there's an Underground agent is a conductor t-there. His name is Ivan, but I think his codename is something like Dragonfly."

How does he know all this? "Good job, Carter," I said. "Now, do you think we can get rid of this fire and head out? I don't think we need the Gestapo a second time."