Warsaw (36 page)

Next to him Dietmar again checked the action upon his new
rifle and again altered the length of the strap, attempting to find the perfect
fit. His breath misted up in front of his face but the youth failed to feel the
cold, warmed as he was by his sense of anticipation.

His pacing ceased. Yitzhak Meisel formed a plan and came to
a decision. He ordered Jessica to write a note to Duritz, saying that she
feared the apartment block was unsafe and that she would hide out in a room on
Sliska Street and that she would now wait for him there. At first Jessica
lamely shook her head to refuse but then the malicious policeman addressed the
woman, his truncheon resting under Kolya's chin.

"We might still need you, but the boy we can dispose of
at any time. It's Duritz who we want. I promise that if you co-operate in
helping us apprehend the felon then we'll happily let you both go,"
Yitzhak pronounced, lying.

"Why are you doing this?" Jessica asked, shaking
her head in confusion rather than defiance; strands of hair became matted to
her moist cheeks.

"Why not?" the policeman exclaimed, shrugging.
Yitzhak then grinned, his yellow dog tooth poking out beneath his upper lip,
pleased as he was with the villainous humour and honest wisdom of his reply.

Torn, shaking, Jessica was pressured into writing the
condemning note. She begged for Adam's forgiveness as she did so. Marek had
handed her the pencil and paper, amused by the girl's desperate state but also
still aroused - wanting to possess her. He inwardly smirked, remembering that
Meisel had a spare room and bed in the flat he was taking the woman to.

The coughing sounds of a distant, stuttering truck engine
disturbed Thomas' thoughts as if a fly were buzzing around his ear. A light
drizzle freckled the air as the two men entered the foyer of the tenement
block. Thomas placed a hand upon his friend's shoulder at the bottom of the
stairs.

"Wait Adam, there's something I should say. I've never
said this to anyone before but -"

The pause was at first created from the German still not
knowing quite what to say, but then a distinct noise from above interrupted
Thomas in his speech. The soldier grabbed his companion's arm and put his
finger to his lips. They hurriedly retreated into what was previously the
superintendent's office. The empty room was doorless - the door having been
broken up for firewood - but still easily concealed the two men. The clatter of
footsteps came to the bottom of the stairs and Adam's stomach sank upon hearing
the familiar, dreaded voice.

"Make sure you keep a good hand on the boy. He's as
slippery as an eel. Although you wouldn't want to run off and leave your sister
would you boy?" Yitzhak Meisel remarked, emitting a couple of croaky
chuckles as he did so. The policeman had regained his confidence in catching up
with the student - and was there not a further sense of triumph in leading his
prey into a trap? As the party descended the short flight of stone steps and
came out into the street the smile was suddenly wiped off the face of the
policeman.

After his initial paralysing shock Adam compelled to
confront the policemen rescue Jessica. Thankfully Thomas anticipated and
restrained Duritz from committing any rash act that could condemn them all. The
stronger man forcibly pinned his friend against the wall.

"Wait, now might not be the best time."

Thomas could not know how right he was. Outside, a truck had
pulled up in front of Meisel. At first the constable stood transfixed, scared,
but then he acted confidently in dealing with the unwelcome SS patrol.

"What are you doing there? Where are you going?"
the brawny Sergeant commanded in a brusque voice, his square head jutting out
from his greatcoat and fur hat.

"We found a couple of evacuees who slipped through the
net. We're taking them to the Umschlag, ready for tomorrow's deportation."

"No you're not. You can put them on the back of the
truck. We'll take care of them."

If it had been another Jewish policeman - even his superior -Yitzhak
Meisel would have argued his point. But he knew he had no choice but to comply
with the German soldier.

Thomas and Adam heard a stationary truck and carefully came
out from their hideout to decipher the exchange of voices that they could hear
in the background. The German cocked his rifle. Thomas also had a pistol (a
Walther P38) concealed inside his greatcoat but he refrained from handing it
over to Adam yet in case it could prompt him to act recklessly.

Yitzhak Meisel was temporarily in two minds, whether to stay
with his hostages or proceed to the apartment where, hopefully, he would
finally corner Duritz. He solved the dilemma by ordering his two cohorts to
rendezvous with him at the address whilst he stayed with the prisoners and went
with them in the truck. Marek wanted to be further compensated for his time
(petulant from having the girl snatched away from him). Sztokman reluctantly
grunted in assent.

"You don't mind if I come with you in the truck? These
two have already got away once. I'd hate to see it happen again."

"Don't worry, they won't be going far now. But you're
welcome to ride along with us. We'll need the extra pair of hands later,"
the Sergeant garbled, his mouth half full from the bite of a sausage sandwich
he had just taken.

From what the German said - and the way he intoned it - the
policeman realised that the routine patrol was not just a routine patrol.
Meisel climbed into the back of the truck to find a collection of dishevelled
Jews - who were about to act as quarry for one of Kleist's hunts.

Jessica closed her eyes and willed her heart to be a beacon
in the darkness that Adam would espy and be drawn to.

The Sergeant glanced at the haul of the Jews he had
rounded-up, looked at his watch – he was due to rendezvous with the Lieutenant
five minutes ago - and ordered his driver to move on.

Again Thomas had to pull back a despairing Duritz, a mixture
of hopelessness and energy vying for sovereignty in the youth's features. The
Corporal not only had an idea where the truck was heading but the brace of
remaining policemen needed to be out of sight before they pursued the vehicle.
The German briefly closed his careworn eyes, either in disbelief and despair at
how a simple plan was spiralling out of control.

"Remember Dietmar, squeeze rather than jerk upon the
trigger. Make sure the butt is firmly, but comfortably, pressed into your
shoulder. You shouldn't run before you can crawl so aim for a torso shot rather
than thinking you can hit your target in the head or leg. To save any confusion
keep to the targets on your side of the street rather than mine. Although I
must confess that when I run out of my quota I'll look to finish of your share
also," Christian playfully, yet also sincerely, remarked.

Dietmar duly put on an attentive expression when listening
to his partner's advice but then his studious face broke into a grin as
Christian joked and winked at the youth. Fortunately they were only a block
away from Elektoralna Street, near the old courthouse. Christian had ordered
one of his Sergeants for them to meet outside the building for the event. Once
the driver got underway, after the heaving engine finally turned over, they
made it to their destination in a couple of minutes. The Sergeant was ten
minutes late for their rendezvous but Christian was in such an agreeable mood
that he allowed the tardiness to go unnoticed. Indeed rather than admonish his
Sergeant Christian smiled upon seeing the man's dour, brutal mug. He clapped
and rubbed his hands together - both in anticipation of the approaching
sport.
      

Before they set off from the apartment block Thomas gave
Adam the pistol. The soldier sensed the Jew's unfamiliarity with holding the
weapon (Adam was surprised by its weight) and knew now that he had to take
control of the situation. It remained unspoken between the two men that they
had crossed the point of no return - and that they were prepared to do what
they had to do.

"You have eight rounds. Keep your arm straight but then
be ready for the recoil. Things will become loud and confusing but that can
work to our advantage in the dark. They're not expecting us so make your first
shots count. If possible try to keep track of how many bullets you fire. Aim
low rather than high. Shoot the enemy nearest to you, then take his weapon and
repeat the same tactic. I know that your first instinct will be to save Jessica
but if we don't take out the soldiers between us and her then we won't be
saving anyone. Try to keep to my pace when we run, but if you can't then let me
know. Are you ready?"

Adam pressed his lips together and tightly gripped the gelid
handle of the gun in a show of wordless readiness. The two men then set off,
the stygian darkness consuming the shadowy figures. Silvery-grey plumes of
misted breath puffed out into the nothingness like chuffs of smoke from a night
train as the two men sped away
 

It was as if the savage evening had taken a bite out of the
blotchy moon, but nevertheless the once majestic orb peeped out from behind the
thick clouds as if it were curious about the events unfolding down upon
Elektoralna Street.

A tall SS Private with a harelip used his gun barrel to
separate an ashen-faced Jewish woman and shivering boy. Jessica and Kolya had
been holding hands. Even when their hands were parted the forlorn brother and
sister still tried to maintain a connection through the telemetry in their
expressions. The Private, who due to his deformed lip seemed to be perpetually
sneering, nodded to indicate to his comrade that the "ducks" were
ready. The soldier standing atop of the truck, manning the searchlight on the
roof of the vehicle, nodded in reply. He grimaced as he heard the familiar
tap-tap of rain fall on to the metal casing of the searchlight. Fortunately the
initial droplets didn't presage a heavier downpour.

Thomas felt the drizzle in the air as he surveyed the
street, his face a picture of martial concentration. He recognised the
unmistakable frame of Kleist standing upright in the cabin of one of the
trucks. He was holding a rifle. Another figure, similarly holding a rifle,
stood next to him. The driver's seat appeared to be vacated. A weapon-less
soldier manned the searchlight behind the two men but otherwise the furthermost
truck was empty. In front of the truck however Thomas could make out a tall
Private lining the group of Jews up across the street. He could not yet see
Jessica and Kolya but Thomas was prevented from surveying the entire street
because of the two vehicles. The second, nearest, truck was parked directly
behind the first, separated by about ten yards. The driver was still behind the
wheel. Thomas noted the hulking Sergeant sitting in the back of the truck, his
rifle ready in his hands. A quartet of soldiers congregated together just
behind the second truck, smoking and stamping their feet in the cold. Three of
the men had rifles slung over the shoulders whilst, ominously, the last man (a
Corporal) possessed a MP40, a sub-machine-gun. One targeted burst from the
weapon could end it all immediately. Between the group of soldiers and the line
of victims who were being arranged to be fired upon Thomas could just about
make out, through the gap between the two vehicles, a Jewish policeman.

During this minute or so in which Thomas tried to scan the
scene and hastily form a plan of attack Adam stood, doubled-up, behind the
soldier, attempting to catch his breath. As much as Adam knew to take deep
breaths he was still compelled to pant after the exhaustive pursuit of the
truck.

The Lieutenant removed his cap and placed it upon the
driver's seat inside the truck's cabin. He straightened his hair and rolled his
head around on his neck to relieve any stiffness. The young adjutant next to
him did the same, watching and mimicking the mentoring officer's rituals as
best he could.

Kolya watched them, anxiety displacing hate. Small eyes in
the darkness. He had heard about the Lieutenant and his hunts before. He knew
he would not survive but at the same time Kolya still formed an idea as to
where he would run. He would sprint diagonally to his right across the road and
try to make the open doorway to the tenement block. Hopefully the building
would have a back exit. The youth tried to subtlety motion his head and eyes to
Jessica to communicate that she should do the same. The child's face was waxen
in the dull moonlight, his blood flooding his vital organs.

Jessica thought, from Kolya's prompting expression, that he
was trying to tell her something but the girl felt she needed now to collect
her final thoughts. Her head was bowed in submitting to God, rather than the
Germans. She smiled, thinking upon Adam. She loved him. She would die happy
believing that he would make it through the war. He had so much to give. So did
Kolya. She would attempt to run behind the boy, try to shield him.

"I need you to concentrate upon taking out the group of
soldiers next to the truck on the left side. It's important that you aim for
the man carrying the machine-gun first. You'll see the Sergeant at the back of
the truck out of the corner of your eye but don't get distracted. I'll take
care of him. Remember, you have eight shots. Try to make them count. I've got
five, before I have to re-load. I'm going to take out Kleist and the man
standing next to him. Upon my first shot, that's when you need to run towards
your targets and commence shooting. After that I'm going to aim for the
Sergeant. After that the driver should then be in my sights. There's a Jewish
policeman with them but hopefully he won't cause any trouble. Hopefully, also,
Jessica and Kolya will get themselves out of there as soon as the shooting
starts."