Eighteen

Georg felt a hand gently tapping his shoulder, and a voice say over the rumble of the train beneath him, "Captain?"

Slowly, he opened his eyes, cursing God that he had not sent a bolt of lightning down to punish him. Or had he? His entire body ached and screamed in agony from his wounds, and the cold sweat he felt forming on his body forced him to conclude he was getting a fever. Most likely from my body going into shock from everything that's happened.

His vision clearing, Georg saw the blond young man leaning over him cautiously. He had changed out of the Nazi cadet uniform and into dark blue pants, a white linen shirt and dark gray sweater. His memory re-engaging again, he croaked, "You're the telegram delivery boy."

The young man nodded. "I was, yes, but not anymore. My name is Rolf Gruber."

Georg tried to sit up, but all he could manage to do was rest on his elbows. "Easy, sir," said Rolf, reaching out a bit but not daring to touch him. "You'll only hurt yourself more if you don't take it easy."

"I honestly wouldn't mind that…" murmured Georg, and Rolf barely managed to hear him.

"Well, you have to change," said Rolf, motioning to a pile of folded clothes he had set down beside him. "We're almost to the Swiss border, which is when we have to sneak into the compartment we've booked. We can't look like we've stowed away in the baggage car." Seeing how much effort it took Georg to move, Rolf hesitantly and fearfully asked, "Would you allow me to help you?" He held out his arm for Georg to take.

The words that the young man told him barely made any sense to Georg. They were heading to safety and not danger? Wanting answers – more than anything to distract himself from thinking of what just happened – Georg grasped the arm and was helped to his feet. "Tell me exactly what's going on while you do, please."

"That's a long story," said Rolf. "We should wait until we're in the compartment and safely over the border before I tell the whole tale. But you should know that your children are all safely out of the country and on their way to their grandmother in England. Frau Schmidt is accompanying them."

Immeasurable relief flooded Georg at this news. His children were safe and out of the country. "Thank God…" he breathed. "But…why did Maria not go with them?"

Rolf sighed. "That was the original plan…Dr. Falk was originally going to accompany us. But that would put him in great danger when he came back to Austria, so we needed another person. It was Maria's idea that she play the part of a guard, brought under the pretense that she was my cousin just starting out. With her short hair, sunglasses she had been wearing and the way she disguised herself, no one suspected anything…"

Including myself…thought Georg, feeling even more disgusted. In another minute, he was in new clothes and it was a relief. It would have felt wonderful had his whole body not ached and not had a fever beginning. Locking eyes with Rolf, he asked, "Is she awake? Is she all right?"

Rolf nodded. "She's awake and alert, but…"

Panic began to rise in him. "But what?"

Rolf sighed, and the next words were very difficult for him. "Her voice is gone, after what…just don't press her to talk."

As gently as the words were spoken, to Georg it was a kick in the gut worse than any of the others he had received. In a state of painful numbness, he barely heard a whistle and bell clanging in the near distance.

Rolf breathed a sigh of relief. "We're officially in Switzerland, and out of Hitler's realm. Come, we need to get to our compartment."

In a state of painful numbness, Georg took Rolf's arm and was led out of his dark corner.

Maria stood at the doorway out of the baggage car and to the rest of the train. In her hand she held the suitcase which now held the horrible Nazi uniforms. Maria vowed to burn them once they reached their destination, as they should be. She now wore a simple, modest traveling dress and shoes. Her throat still felt constricted, and she took slow, even breaths to avoid any soreness. She was very nervous about seeing the Captain again; she knew he would not hurt her, but she didn't know how he would act around her. Thinking of how he initially handled his wife's death, she knew that he would put all of the blame on himself and ignore the fact that it was an accident. She knew that it would be up to her to make him see the truth, but how could she do that when she could barely talk?

Actions speak louder than words, Maria, she thought.

But she didn't have any longer to think, for at that moment Rolf and the Captain came out of the dark corner he had put himself. Rolf was leading him by the arm towards her; the Captain's movements were as slow and careful as her breathing. She was glad he was in the fresh change of clothes. His head was hung low, as if determined not to look up at her.

When they stopped, Rolf took the suitcase from Maria's hand. "I'll check to make sure the coast is clear." With that, Rolf slipped through the door and left the two of them alone.

Maria turned to look at the Captain, but he would not look at her. He had his head determinedly, his jaw set tight; his whole body was rigid. She lowered her gaze to his hands, which she expected to find balled into fists, but they weren't. The left hand's fingers were wiggling and shaking restlessly, a gesture that was familiar to Maria. He always seemed to do that when uncomfortable, nervous or worried. Her heart went out to him, and thought she couldn't yet speak to him, she could make an action.

So, taking a deep breath, Maria reached out and firmly took his left hand, stilling his restless fingers. The Captain nearly jumped when he felt her touch, and looked down at their hands in shock. Maria kept her hold firm, entwining their fingers and keeping her gaze on his face, so he could meet her eyes when he eventually did look at her.

When he did, Maria nearly lost her breath at the self-loathing, grief and regret shining in his eyes. Though she hadn't known him then, Maria had an intuition that these eyes had held this same exact look in the aftermath of his wife's death. But perhaps even then it hadn't been this strong…What kind of hell has he been through in his life?

His mouth opened, and he spoke. "Maria, I'm so-"

But he got no further, for Maria had reached up and pressed a finger to his lips to silence him. It worked, and both were shocked at the contact – and the electricity it produced, both nearly losing their breath. Maria said nothing, but gently shook her head and gave the ghost of a smile. The message was clear: There is nothing to apologize for.

As she lowered her finger from his lips, Rolf reappeared again. "All right, the coast is clear. Follow me." He noticed their joined hands and how close they were standing, and turned back around with a smile on his face. Maria and the Captain exited the baggage car together, hand-in-hand.

Their compartment was not far from the baggage car, and they encountered nobody on the way there. Once inside the private compartment Rolf had led them to – the suitcase safely in the luggage rack above – they all sat down after safely shutting the compartment door. The day outside in Switzerland was absolutely beautiful, and sunlight streamed in through the window bringing a cheering light inside.

Rolf sat on one side, while Maria and the Captain on the other. Their hands remained joined between them by silent, mutual agreement. "So," said Rolf after a moment of silence. "I suppose you will want to hear the entire story, then, sir?"

The Captain nodded. "You would be right. But first, tell me: are we on our way to England?"

Rolf shook his head. "We are actually going to Zurich first. Max took an overnight train there last night, and is meeting us at the station."

The Captain thought about this for a moment, and then nodded slowly; he seemed to have no objection.

For the rest of the trip, which only lasted about an hour, Rolf filled in the entire story of what had happened since the Captain had been taken, also telling about his own past and family so the Captain would better understand how he had become involved. However, Rolf tactfully made no mention of his relationship with Liesl; the last thing he wanted was to make the Captain angry again.

Maria was silent throughout the ride, for the sake of her voice. Both men couldn't know, but she could feel it slowly coming back. A stewardess had stopped by and had brought them water and ice. Both Maria and Georg drank a lot of it, and the ice was wrapped for Georg, to cool his head while Aspirin from the First-Aid kit in the car cooled his fever.

During the entire train ride in the compartment, Maria's and the Captain's hands never let go of each other.

When the train slowed and came to a stop in the train station of Zurich, all three of them couldn't deny the relief they felt to be away from the realm of the Third Reich. When they came out of the compartment, they blended in perfectly with the other departing passengers coming off the train. Rolf led the way with the suitcase, following the signs that would lead them to the entrance, with Maria and Georg behind him, their arms securely linked.

Once outside in the open air, it wasn't long before they all spotted Max standing by a car he must have rented. Once he spotted them, a look of great relief came over his face, and he approached his best friend right away. Grasping his hand with both of his, he said, "Oh, Georg, thank God."

Georg nodded, looking equally relieved to see his old friend again.

Then Max turned to Rolf and clapped his shoulder. "I take it the operation was a success?"

"Yes," said Rolf. "When they discover that the Captain and I never made it to Bremerhaven, it is us who will be blamed and not Dr. Falk. His hands are clean. No doubt my father will be reprimanded as well." And he did not look at all sorry about that.

Max gave a satisfied nod, and then turned to Maria. But once he got a look at her, his eyes widened in horror. "My God, dear girl," he gasped. "What happened to your neck?"

Just like that, as if a bucket of ice water had been dropped on the three travellers, the mood changes. Looking horrified herself, Maria brought her hands to her neck and couldn't help but look over at the Captain, who looked just as horrified and also nauseated. Rolf covered his face with his hands.

The inevitable bruises had begun to show.

Max watched this reaction in great trepidation, for he could sense that he would regret getting the answer.