Chapter 12
Lizzie’s breath strangled in her throat as she stood in front of the formidable group of Gestapo, and one of them signalled for her to step aside. Getting stopped by the worst of the worst immediately on arrival was a blow.
Breathe. She reminded herself they knew nothing, and their strategy was to scare people so that spies and traitors to the Reich revealed themselves under pressure.
Lizzie glanced at Hannah and saw her standing straight-backed in front of one of the other Gestapo.
‘Papers,’ the man commanded, his voice frigid.
This would be the ultimate test. Provincial police had checked her papers, but this was the official engine room of the Third Reich. The Gestapo would be much more experienced in spotting false documents and details that didn’t add up.
Lizzie handed her documents over, her heart slamming hard against her rib cage.
He studied them carefully, now and again raising his eyes to hers as he spoke.
No smile crossed his lips during the exchange.
The Gestapo comprised the worst kind of bullies and in this terrible new Germany they held the power to terrorise whoever they wanted.
‘Why are you travelling with the other woman?’ he said, his eyes back on her papers.
‘We are sisters-in-law,’ Lizzie said in a polite tone, a deliberate inflection of the Alsatian dialect lacing her words.
‘And you are both from Alsace?’
Lizzie nodded.
‘Speak up,’ he said. His measured voice was more menacing than if he had shouted.
Lizzie cleared her throat. Everyone was frightened of the Gestapo, so it was best to show reverence.
Being nervous would play in her favour as long as her answers were congruent with Hannah’s.
She had practiced their agreed cover story repeatedly at Baker Street, with Jack at the flat, and during the long journey, when she had rehearsed the words silently, knowing such a moment as this was certain to come at some point.
She hadn’t expected it so soon.
‘Yes, we are both from the Colmar area.’
‘You are a war widow, I see. What happened to your husband?’ This time he searched her eyes and body language for any tell of a lie. She had been trained for this, but it didn’t make it any less scary.
‘Sadly, he was killed fighting for the enemy in 1940. He had no choice but to fight when he was conscripted, despite his German heritage. My sister-in-law and I decided to move to Berlin for a fresh start. We wish to embrace our true ethnic identity.’
He glanced at Hannah, and Lizzie did the same. Her case was open again, and another man was rifling through it on a table whilst the Gestapo official still held her papers and peppered her with questions.
Lizzie felt the heat rising up her neck beneath her wool scarf, and panic threatened to consume her.
They hadn’t even begun their mission, and they were already in the hands of the dreaded Gestapo.
She had no time to second-guess the infiltration plan and could only hope and pray they would get through without being arrested.
‘What about your sister-in-law?’ the man continued as if he had all the time in the world to question her.
Streams of passengers flooded past them on the long platform, and Lizzie cursed their terrible luck.
‘What about her?’ Lizzie replied carefully.
‘Where is her husband?’
‘Our husbands suffered the same fate. We are both war widows and mean to live together to comfort each other and rebuild our shattered lives.’
‘I see,’ he said, the clipped words hanging between them like a veiled threat, before he studied her identity papers again. ‘You have a beautiful German name.’
The blood roared in Lizzie’s ears, and she fought to steady herself. Keeping calm was the biggest challenge in these situations.
‘Thank you,’ she said.
Then he handed the papers back to her. ‘Have a good stay in Berlin, Frau Weber.’ His tone was still cold, but she could see he had lost interest, and she retrieved her case from the platform and walked away.
Hannah’s case still lay open, and the Gestapo were still checking her papers and grilling her.
Lizzie calculated whether it would be helpful to join her and show she was approved entry.
Hannah fixed her with a look that warned her not to.
They both knew they must put the mission first, and one of them in Berlin was better than neither of them.
Lizzie reached the final checkpoint and was waved through with a cursory glance at her papers and a nod. As she crossed into the Anhalter Bahnhof concourse, her eyes strayed upwards to the neo-classical, high-ceilinged architecture.
Lizzie scanned the crowded area and allowed herself to pause and exhale.
It was still early, but the station brimmed with soldiers, weary civilians, and various officials.
Nazi banners dominated the station everywhere she looked, and the adrenaline still had her nerves on edge after the close shave with the Gestapo.
There was a busy newsstand displaying German papers, and she scanned the latest headline about the German troops’ success at Stalingrad. She hoped it was the usual German lies, and that there hadn’t been a setback.
Despite the packed station, an eerie quietness hung over the concourse as people hurried to their platforms as though they dared not stop and speak.
The authoritarian regime had replaced the normal rhythm of free life in Germany. Words were only whispered, and secret looks exchanged.
As Lizzie crossed the concourse, each step bringing her closer to the city, she saw propaganda posters much like those in occupied France lining the walls.
There were caricatures of Churchill and Roosevelt depicted as warmongers, the usual hateful antisemitic imagery blaming Jews for all ills, and heroic images of German soldiers fighting for the Fatherland.
Swastikas were everywhere, and as Lizzie stepped onto the pavement, she gulped in the cold air and quickly put distance between herself and the station.
The backup plan was to meet at Potsdamer Platz if they were separated.
Hannah knew Berlin like the back of her hand, but Lizzie was in strange territory, so she followed the signs.
She was parched, but instead of going in search of a drink when she arrived, she found a bench to sit on and wait for Hannah in the blustery square.
It was too busy to risk missing her by melting into one of the cafés.
Beyond this point, they had no rendezvous plan, so Lizzie checked her watch and waited impatiently for Hannah to appear.
She prayed fervently as every moment passed.
If the Gestapo arrested and interrogated the courageous Jewish Resistance leader, it could be the end of the mission before it had begun.
Even Hannah would struggle to resist the levels of torture those devils would inflict on her.
And they would be humiliated if they discovered a Berlin born Jew was the infamous Resistance member known as Angel who had eluded them throughout the war and wreaked havoc on their infrastructure.
Lizzie’s stomach growled as she checked her watch again and hunched inside her raincoat against the fierce chill. Her hat blew off, and she stooped to retrieve it. A pair of familiar brown shoes appeared in her line of vision. She’d looked at them many times on the train journey.
Lizzie raised her head as she arranged her hat on her chestnut hair. ‘Thank God. There you are!’
Waves of relief flooded over her as she met Hannah’s smiling blue eyes.
‘Hello, sister-in-law. Let’s get a well-earned coffee and something to eat before we both pass out from hunger.’
Hannah offered Lizzie her arm, and they crossed the busy square in central Berlin and found a table in a quiet space in a café by the window, where they could finally exchange a few private words.
‘Tell me everything!’ Hannah pleaded; her voice low but bursting with enthusiasm. ‘I’ve been dying to ask you for news of Henry but didn’t dare risk it. When did Jack last see him?’