"How far is this friend of yours, Georg?" Maria asked as they double backed through another street. They had managed to cross the river and were heading towards the main section of the city. In the moonlight, Maria could see Hohensalzburg Fortress looming over them.
"Nikolas Lang lives in Anif," he answered, scanning down the street.
"Anif!?" she repeated. "Georg, that's almost five miles from the city!"
"Yes," he nodded, looking back at her. "And we need to get there by morning."
She cast a worried glance behind her. So far, they had been very lucky in not encountering any one of consequence on their journey. They still hadn't even left the city yet, and their destination was further than she had initially thought. "What makes you think it's not morning already?" she asked, her attempt at humor sounding flat.
Giving her a tight grin, he cocked his head for them to continue.
As they walked, Maria realized she had no idea what the next step in Georg's plan was. "Georg, what happens when we reach Nikolas?"
"We get into a car, drive to a train station further south, and get onto a train going to Italy," he answered.
"Italy?!" she whispered in shock. "Aren't they siding with Germany?"
"Yes, and that's precisely why they won't be expecting us to go there," he reasoned as he motioned for her to run across an intersection. Once he had joined her, he put his arm around her as they spied a figure walking in the distance. "They'll be watching the Swiss borders and the eastern ones as well. They won't think to look at Italy. At least, I'm hoping they don't think to look there. Besides, nothing has happened in Italy yet. They're just talking."
She tried to remember her pledge that she trusted him. "Was Nikolas invited to the wedding?"
"He and his wife were invited, but were unable to attend."
"Do I want to know why they couldn't come?" she asked wryly.
His smile mirrored her tone, and he squeezed his arm tighter around her waist. "He's an old friend; we were in school together. He's putting himself on the line by staying. He sent his family away weeks ago," he said to assure her. "We're going to meet up with them in Italy. From there, we'll send for the children to join us."
"And we'll stay in Italy? Even with Italy and Germany in talks?"
"We should have time to take the next steps," Georg assured her and paused as a shadow further up their path caught his attention. When he was assured it was nothing, he led them both forward. "But yes, we can't stay there forever. So we'll probably head to England or even America."
"America?!"
He glanced down at her. "I know it's a lot. But we'll discuss it together once we get to that point." He squeezed her shoulder. "We'll be alright. But we'll both decide what we do next."
Her earlier hurt at being excluded was lifted, yet the fear remained. "I trust you, Georg; I'm just scared."
"We'll be fine."
"Do you have any money? Provisions?"
"Yes, I have money. As for provisions, I—" he paused, unsure if he wanted her to know everything.
She stared at him. "Yes?"
He stopped walking and turned to face her. "Maria, I only have this in case it's needed," he warned and produced from his jacket's inner pocket the large military knife he had used to cut the wires earlier.
Maria's mouth dropped open. "Georg!" she gasped and quickly pushed his hand holding the knife down so she couldn't see the weapon. "Where did you get that!?"
"You've been in my study," he retorted and returned the knife back to its holding place. "I would have brought a gun, but Agathe made me get rid of all of them the moment she learned she was pregnant with Liesl. I didn't have the chance to buy a new one when we learned about the Anschluss. I just pray I don't have to use this."
Maria's response was to quietly recite the Lord's Prayer.
"The Cathedral is so peaceful," Maria whispered to fill the silence. She was still unnerved by seeing the knife in her husband's hand. She knew he owned some weapons, and it made sense for him to be carrying one in their situation, but the sight of it made their ordeal seem much more perilous. It hadn't hit her how dangerous their trek through the city was until she saw the knife in his hand.
"Yes," Georg murmured. "It's a shame that even the Church isn't a sanctuary anymore. A few years ago, we could have gone into that building and would have been protected. Not now. They don't care where you're at when they find you."
Maria wished they could spare a moment for her to give him some sort of reassuring gesture, but she dare not risk any movements that might draw attention to them. The streets were more and more populated due to the remnants of the music festival, making their covert journey increasingly difficult.
"It'll be a sanctuary again one day," she decided to say. Hearing him click his tongue, she wasn't sure if he was being hopeful or cynical.
His face suddenly became alert. He moved to a nearby wall, bringing his arm in front of her chest, pushing her back too. Rhythmic footsteps could be heard ahead of them. The couple crouched down into the shadows, and Georg silently estimated how many pairs of feet were heading their way. No voices could be heard.
They're searching for something, he thought. It wasn't vanity that made him conclude that it was him they were searching for; it was dread.
Maria wasn't sure which scared her more: the approaching soldiers or the icy expression on her husband's face. While she felt completely safe with him, it unsettled her to see Georg turn into the rigid, unemotional stranger the moment they encountered any sign of danger.
The footsteps turned the corner and stopped at the head of the street. Georg felt Maria take his hand. Giving it a reassuring squeeze, he drew his knife with his free hand, causing Maria to intake her breath in fear.
"Arnold, you said you saw two people running through the alleys and trying to hide in the shadows?" A voice that could only be Herr Zeller's echoed down the street.
They don't know we're down here, Georg realized, his eyes narrowing. He spied an alley they had passed a few steps back, across the way. If they ran for it, they would have a chance. But they would have to wait for the Nazis' attention to be diverted. He looked over at Maria and nodded towards the alley to tell her his plan. After following his gaze, she nodded quickly in understanding.
"Yes, Sir," a tall, burly man answered. "Down that street, Sir."
Georg's jaw set as he saw the man point in their direction. They had no choice; they would have to run for it.
"Werner," Zeller addressed another soldier, "Go down the street and investigate. We'll meet in a half hour. Don't leave any section of the street untouched. And do not use excessively aggressive force; Captain von Trapp is not to be harmed."
"But if he's with a woman?" Arnold's voice questioned.
"Then he better pray his little wife doesn't find out," Zeller sneered and walked away with the rest of the soldiers.
"Maria," Georg's voice was barely above a whisper. "If it comes to it, you run. Do not look back. Run to the river. Just get out of the city."
"Georg," she started but silenced her protest. He spared a moment to glance at her, and her breath caught at the strong, determined look in his eyes. She had to trust him. "Yes, don't look back," she repeated and tried desperately to stop shaking.
The footsteps started to get closer, and Georg prepared himself to attack. There was no way the soldier, if he had been properly trained, would miss them. He waited until the last possible moment until—
The man walked into his field of vision and was about to turn in their direction when Georg jumped out of the shadows and punched him, sending him sprawling across the street. The man regained his footing and swung at him. Georg ducked out of the way, but the Nazi had recovered his bearings and grabbed Georg's collar, tearing it. Swinging the Captain around, the soldier threw Georg against the wall. Georg slammed his arms into the man's sides, winding him. Taking advantage of the moment, the Captain threw another punch, knocking the soldier unconscious. Not wasting any time, Georg reached over and took the Nazi's gun and an extra clip.
"Georg!" Maria gasped as she came out of hiding. "What are you doing!?"
"Getting us some more protection," he responded and checked the gun.
"Halt!" a voice shouted from down the street.
Dashing into the alley, Georg took Maria's hand and did not look back. He had an advantage, and they knew he knew it: he was not to be harmed. That would be to his benefit.
Spying a small street, Georg and Maria turned and ran into an open courtyard.
"Damn," Georg spat and felt Maria tug on his arm as she led him to another connecting road. Running and zigzagging through several more streets, they had successfully lost their pursuers, but had also proceeded to lose their bearings.
"Where are we?" Maria breathed, doubled over.
Glancing up to the North Star, Georg scanned what little of the skyline he could see. "We're not too bad. We're closer to the river than I would like to be, though. We need to head towards the center of town, where it's less exposed."
Nodding her head in agreement, Maria clutched her side. "That was close," she whispered.
"Too close," Georg agreed. He looked over at her, and she was relieved to see some tension gone from his face. He still was determined, but the icy urgency had left his demeanor. "They know we're around here now. This is going to be even more difficult."
"Well," Maria started, trying to be optimistic. "They don't have us yet! Let's get moving."
She reached up to fuss with his torn collar. He grabbed her hands and brought them to his lips, allowing them a moment of peace. They smiled briefly at each other, both drawing strength from the other's presence. He released one of her hands but kept the other firmly in his own, and together, they resumed their journey.
To be continued…