OP-DEC: Operation Deceit

Chapter 9

Fantasies of jumping from the moving vehicle or pushing Carsten out with a display of sudden and great strength filled Claire's mind the entire ride back to her father's house. The night somehow clung more darkly to their street. A roll of thunder echoed in the distance, barely audible above the growl of the engine. The driver steered the car up to the gate, pausing for it to open. The menacing groan of the iron barrier awakened Claire's need to escape. She moved, but Carsten's alertness obstructed such notions. His hand tightly grasped her wrist, planting her hand firmly on the seat between them. The concealed gun glinted, catching the reflection of the headlights. Pain and fear played on her face. He smiled, quite pleased with himself.

"Not just yet," he said in low tones as the car proceeded slowly up the drive.

Carsten released her hand and patted it, wearing one of his grins. Claire tore her hand away, clutching it to her chest. Her owlish eyes kept a close watch on him. He only chuckled, amused by her fear. She was at his mercy with not a soul to help her.

The driver remained focused on his task, taking no notice in the change of mood between his passengers. Claire wagered the driver had already known about the plans for the night, and he played along to keep his cushy job. She scowled at him in the mirror, but he didn't bother to look up. The car coasted up to the overhang and came to a gentle stop. This time, he didn't get out and open the door. He waited, allowing Carsten to do it instead.

Carsten reached across Claire and opened her door.

"Slowly," he instructed, brandishing the weapon more boldly.

Claire slid off the seat and climbed out. Carsten kept close behind. He took her arm in a tight grip just above the elbow, and with his free hand tucked his gun underneath his jacket. He pulled her up the steps, warning her not to speak unless she wanted a new piece of jewelry. The front door opened and Wilson appeared, bidding them good evening. Claire thought she would faint.

The butler shut the door behind them, sealing them inside the house. Aunt came to greet them from the parlor while father emerged from his office. She smiled, though clearly anxious at their early reappearance. Father eyed her with a severe frown.

"You're home early, aren't you?" Aunt said. Her smile died as she noticed Claire's pallor. "You all right, sweetheart?"

"That'll be all, Wilson," Father told the butler. He stepped closer to Claire, taking her other arm. "Aren't you feeling well?" he asked, smiling dangerously. When Wilson left through the kitchen, he continued, "Did you get the cipher?"

Father released her, more interested in his prize.

"Cipher?" Aunt asked unheard.

Carsten also let go of his grip on Claire and tucked his gun in the waist of his pants. Claire rushed to her Aunt, falling into her arms. Aunt patted her shoulder and cooed softly, trying to soothe whatever troubled her.

"What's all this, then?" Aunt asked.

"Of course," Carsten answered father, producing the bead.

"Would you women please!" Father snarled at them, taking the bead from Carsten; his bearing turned violent.

Carsten eyed Claire and her aunt to see if they would surprise him with a retort. Instead, the pair remained silent. His eyes slipped back to her father, who grimaced at the small thing in his hand.

"Translate it," Father calmly ordered Carsten.

"Carroll," Aunt said. "What's going on? What do you mean cipher?"

"Why don't you ask your sister." Carroll grinned.

Aunt's eyes narrowed.

"Then what she said was true," Aunt said.

Father shrugged his shoulders and answered with a smile.

"He's a spy," Claire whimpered tremulously. "Carsten Reiniger is a Nazi spy."

Aunt looked to Claire, who was nestled tight against her. She squeezed Claire even tighter and warily eyed Father. He glared at Claire with an unspoken threat.

"Carroll," Aunt said with disbelief. "Look, it doesn't have to be like this."

"I don't expect you to understand, Noreen," Father said, lifting his chin arrogantly. "Let me make it simple. Your sister is sitting in a hospital in Switzerland for discovering the very same thing your niece did this evening. Do you really think I'm just going to let both of you walk out the door-to waltz off and talk to the police?"

Aunt's mouth popped open. She struggled to find the right words to sling at him.

"You-f-f-ink," Aunt said.

Father chuckled. "Careful, Noreen, or I may put you there with her."

Carsten reappeared from the office and handed Claire's father a slip of paper. The younger of the pair seemed a bit anxious. Claire's eyes switched back and forth between them as her father read.

"Tonight," Father murmured. He rubbed his chin with two fingers and exhaled. "So be it."

Father tucked the slip of paper into his pocket. He pivoted back to Claire and her Aunt, throwing his hands up and joining them in a loud clap.

"So be it," he cried at them. Aunt tensed, drawing Claire tighter to her side. "Mr. Reiniger-take the women into the office and keep them under guard while I have the servants make our final preparations." He smirked, amused by something. "You can finish your date." His laughter was not echoed by the others.

Carsten nodded. "At once, Herr Healey." He drew his pistol and pointed it at Claire and her aunt. "You heard him."

Reluctant to comply with such nasty orders, the women stood rooted to their spot. Carsten waved his weapon toward the office to inspire them to move. Aunt pushed Claire along, keeping herself between the brandished weapon and the girl. Claire moved slowly, heeding the gunman. A sneer twisted his face between pleasure and disgust. His icy eyes drilled through her, surer than any bullet he wanted to fire.

Father made his way toward the kitchen, seeking Wilson to give the man his orders. He seemed quite sure his thug would keep the women out of his way.