“Out front?” another guard snapped at her, alert.
“Yes! In the building now, I should think. Oh God!” she wailed in false hysterics, flapping her gloved hands, forcing tears to her eyes. “Please hurry! You must get the Führer out! The Führer!”
All four guards sprinted toward the front of the large building, drawing their weapons, but one shouted to his comrade to remain with the car. The man seemed young, hardly older than the teenagers inside. He fell back in obedience. Audrey swore, wondering what else she could possibly do. But her card was played now. There was no way she could lure this guard away without raising suspicion, especially once the others discovered there was no assassin.
There was nothing for it. Audrey turned from the scene, hoping Claus and Friedrich could figure out the next step, that she hadn’t ruined everything by failing to draw all the guards. Ducking behind a barren hedge a few yards away, she peered back at the car. Several agonizing minutes passed where nothing happened. And then, with a leap in her stomach, she spotted Friedrich, Claus just behind him. Friedrich strode up to the remaining guard with an air of confident authority and said something to him, indicating Claus, who nodded. The large duffel bag was slung over his shoulder.
Audrey watched the exchange, breathless. The young guard shook his head, but when Friedrich responded, the guard reluctantly stepped away from the vehicle. At that moment, Claus dropped to the ground with the bag and disappeared underneath the car whilst Friedrich made conversation with the guard, his eyes flitting to the back doors of the Opera House every few seconds.
The bomb was being set.
Audrey tore her gaze away. It was time to get to the getaway car. She walked as fast as she could without running. The whole mission suddenly seemed far more real, more dangerous. This is mad, she thought, dodging the other pedestrians. Finally, she turned a corner and the bright green sign above the bank came into view; Ludwig’s car was still parked beneath it. Her heels clicked on the pavement in time with the bomb that was now ticking underneath the Führer’s seat. She slid into the back and shut the door.
Ludwig twisted to see her. “Well?”
“I don’t know,” Audrey answered, panting. “They started to set the device, but they’re still there. They need to get out before the other guards come back, or someone raises an alarm.”
He faced the front. “We’ll know soon enough.”
They waited another torturous few minutes before Audrey spotted Friedrich walking toward them.
“There’s Friedrich!”
He wasn’t running, which she took as a good sign. He met her eyes as he approached, and she saw her own relief reflected in them. She slid across the seat to make room.
“It’s done,” he said, chest heaving. “Claus is right behind me.”
“Yes!” Ludwig hammered his hands on the steering wheel. “Yes!”
Friedrich covered Audrey’s hand on top of her knee. “Your diversion was brilliant. Well done.”
“I couldn’t get them all away though,” she said.
“It’s all right. The guard who stayed behind was still wet behind the ears. I told him Claus was there to fix the vehicle. He didn’t put up much of a fight. We were in uniform. There’s Claus now.”
Their comrade threw himself into the front seat beside Ludwig. “Fucking hell,” he swore. “We did it, gents. And lady,” he added. “Let’s get out of here. I need a goddamn drink.”
“How much time do we have before it goes off?” Ludwig asked.
“About five minutes, I’d say. I didn’t get a chance to note the time before we hightailed it out of there. Good job, Audrey,” he said, turning in his seat. “Whatever you did, it worked.”
“Thank you. Told you I’d be useful.”
He grinned. “Let’s go,” he said to Ludwig, who hesitated.
“Should we wait and see whether it’s worked?” he asked.
Claus looked incredulous. “We don’t want to be anywhere near that thing, Ludwig.”
“But we’re blocks away,” he argued. “We’d see the smoke, hear it from here, surely? But not—”
“We’re not risking that!” Friedrich snapped. “You don’t think after that thing goes off, they won’t be cordoning off the whole damn city? Blocking the motorways? Drive, man! We need to be back in our homes before this even hits the wires! Go!”
Ludwig’s jaw twitched, but he put the car into gear. They had to pass the Opera House on their way to the motorway. As they approached, all four sets of eyes snapped to the laneway behind the theatre. Several uniformed men were there now, along with a photographer, whose tall tripod was set up a few feet away from the car. They drove a little farther along the road—Ludwig slowed down as much as he could—until the other side of Hitler’s car came into view.
Audrey gasped in horror.
“No! No no no no no!” Claus shouted.
The subject of the photographer’s attention was a lineup of children positioned along one side of the vehicle, one row standing, another kneeling, the smallest of them seated on the pavement in front. Hitler Youth leaders bracketed them on either side, chivvying them into place. There were over a dozen of them, smiles gleaming as they laughed for the camera, thrilled at the honour of being chosen for a photo opportunity with the Führer’s car.
“Is he there too?” Ludwig demanded. “Do you see him? Does anyone see him?!” He jerked the car over to the side of the street.
“No,” Claus said. “He’s not there. He’s not there.”
“What do we do?” Audrey breathed.
“Claus!” Friedrich shouted.
But it was too late. Claus had already opened the car door and was sprinting across the snow-covered lawn.
Chapter 26
Audrey
HANOVER, GERMANY | APRIL 1939
