The Darkest Hour(60)

Her wince morphs into a scowl, but her voice stays steady. “Don’t be a martyr. Save yourself from the pain.”

“I’ll keep fighting until it kills me,” I say through a clenched jaw. “I’m not a traitor like you are. Did you tell them about Covert Operations?”

“No. They’ve suspected our existence for months, since before you arrived in France. All of the people we’ve killed haven’t gone unnoticed. That’s why they concocted Operation Zerfall in the first place: to draw out Covert Ops.”

“I’m sure you helped them with that.”

“No,” she says again. “That was months in the making. They dropped hints of Zerfall to their collaborators, like that fellow you killed—Monsieur Travert. They knew we’d be lured in sooner or later.”

And we were, like hooked fish. I remember meeting with Dorner for the first time—how I played right into his hands. I should’ve strangled the life out of him right there in Madame Rochette’s attic.

I’d like to do the same to Sabine, too, for her part in all of this. Betrayal spears my heart again, fresh and white-hot.

“What about Major Harken?” I remember the message I heard on the radio, the one the Germans sent to him. Supposedly. “He was innocent, wasn’t he?”

There’s the slightest waver in her voice when she says, “Yes, the radio message was faked.”

A chill runs over my skin. Harken’s last words pound in my head like a hammer on my coffin: Don’t trust her. I should have listened to him. I should have trusted him over her. “Why did you kill him?”

“The Nazis ordered me to. They made it clear that they wanted female subjects. Dr. Nacht … prefers them. They also believe that you and Tilly will draw less suspicion back within the OSS.”

A dark laugh rips out from me. Of course. We used the same philosophy on the Nazis—that they would hardly suspect a young woman of being an agent. Who would’ve thought that they’d take a trick right out of our own playbook? I ask her, “If the Nazis knew about Covert Ops’ existence, then why didn’t they arrest us in Paris?”

Sabine gathers a breath before continuing. “Dr. Nacht knew about the L pills after the Germans caught one of Covert Ops’ agents. He knew that you and Tilly would be ready to kill yourselves, too, if it came to that. That’s one of the reasons why he insisted that you come to the laboratory of your own free will.”

He didn’t want damaged goods. Or dead ones. “What were his other reasons?”

She turns away. “They wanted to see what Covert Ops was capable of.”

A bitter taste enters my mouth. We were lab mice, Tilly and me. Dr. Nacht dangled a little piece of cheese for us, and we came running. We thought we were going to save the Allies; we were willing to die for it, too, if it came to that. But instead, we threw ourselves right into their sticky web.

“Go ahead and laugh,” I say hoarsely, but Sabine merely shakes her head, her eyes filled with pity. I wish I could tear out the both of them. “Pop open some champagne. Pat yourself on the back. Go spend the money the Nazis bought you with!”

Her cheeks flame. “Lucienne—”

“Harken’s little pet! I wonder how Jean-Luc would feel if he knew what you’ve done. Have you thought about that?”

Fury roars onto her face at last. “You know nothing,” she whispers.

“How much did they pay you?” I shout after her. “A million?”

She stalks toward the door.

“What did they give you to murder Harken? How much did his life cost?”

She stops and turns back until I see her profile. “A life for a life,” she murmurs. “Wouldn’t you do the same for your precious Theo?”

Then she exits the room, leaving me alone with her revelation.





A week has ticked by since Sabine’s visit. I’ve pulled apart and put back together her words again and again, but it doesn’t take away the sting of them. A life for a life. The Nazis must have her brother, then, and that’s why she climbed into bed with them. But that doesn’t erase Sabine’s betrayal. We were supposed to be allies. Sisters, even. That’s what Covert Operations stood for. Yet she handed us over to Dr. Nacht, knowing what he would do to us.

There’s a question that floats through my mind, though, darting in and out when I’m lucid enough. If our positions had been switched, if it had been Theo’s life on the line, what would I have done? No doubt I’d want my brother back, but when I think about the price I’d have to pay—about trading Tilly to the Germans—it makes me want to throw up the porridge that Nurse Keser fed me for lunch. Any sympathy I had for Sabine shrivels to nothing.

Soon, however, I forget about Sabine. I forget about nearly everything. I’ve been pumped so full of doses that I’m left exhausted. Each time the syringe hits my skin, I search for my memories of Theo to fight off the haze, but my memories of him have blurred, covered in a fog I can’t break through—and why should I want to break through it?

What a silly thing to do.

I’m beginning to wonder why I joined the OSS in the first place. Dr. Nacht tells me that it’s a corrupt organization that used me as a pawn. Do you enjoy being a pawn, Fr?ulein? He asks me that every time I see him, and I shake my head for him. He pats my hand and tells me, We’d never treat you that way. I’m starting to believe him, too. The Germans would care for me and watch over me, unlike Major Harken and my papa. And all they’d ask for in return is a little favor—to go back to the States and ask for a reassignment within the OSS. A desk job. I’d have access to the office’s most secret intelligence and, when the time was right, I’d pass along a few of those secrets to Dr. Nacht via radio. It might be dangerous work, but I’d be justly rewarded. The Führer himself would sing my praises.