White Rose Black Forest(20)

“How do I know you’re not an Allied agent, keeping me here to win over my trust?”

“I’m not an Allied agent. I’m just a nurse, from Freiburg.”

The man let the gun drop a few inches before raising it up again.

“I’m going to take off my hat and gloves now,” Franka said.

He nodded, and she did as she said, letting them fall to the ground. She inched toward him with her hands out, as if approaching a frightened dog.

“You have nothing to fear. I’m not working for anyone. I don’t have an agenda.”

“What are you planning to do with me?”

“I want to see you walk out of here. I don’t want you to tell me about your mission. You don’t have to talk. I just need you to trust me and know that I don’t mean you any harm.”

Franka tried to hide it, but her voice was shaking. She motioned toward the chair beside her. He didn’t refuse, so she sat down.

“Who are you going to turn me over to?”

He raised his hand to cough, never letting the gun waver from her.

“I’m not planning on turning you over to anyone—not unless you want me to.”

“There’s no phone here? No one for miles around?”

“We’re alone. You can shoot me now, but you’d be killing yourself too. It’s snowing again. We could be here for weeks. You won’t be able to travel, and you’ll die here. You need to trust me. I don’t mean you any harm.”

“Can you take me into the city?”

“No. You’d never make it. I barely made it myself, and I know these trails. I’ve been coming up here my whole life. You need to realize that we’re stuck with each other for a while. We need to trust one another. I must say I’m finding it difficult to trust you with that gun pointed at me.”

“You had no right to take my guns from me in the first place.”

“It was a precaution, nothing more. You had no need for them.”

“How do I know that?”

“Because if I wanted you dead I’d have left you out in the snow. You were hours from death when I found you.”

She could see his eyes yielding, perhaps to logic, or perhaps to necessity.

The man lowered the gun a few inches and closed his eyes for a second. “How do I know you’re telling me the truth, about any of this?”

“If I were some kind of Allied agent, how on earth would I have known you were going to land in the snow, in the middle of nowhere, in Germany? Why would I be here, in the mountains, waiting for you to drop out of the sky? Your theory is someone found you when you were unconscious and deposited you here to be snared by a woman?”

He closed his eyes but didn’t speak.

“Who else is here other than the Gestapo? The Gestapo doesn’t deal in subtlety and nuance. They don’t try to coax information out of their victims. If I were Gestapo, I’d be torturing you right now.”

“Why on earth would I be afraid of the Gestapo?”

“Well then, why won’t you let me report you to them?”

The man opened his eyes and opened his mouth to speak, but she didn’t let him.

“I can help you. I want to help you. I went all the way into Freiburg today for you. I could have gone to a village closer to here, but they wouldn’t have had the painkillers you need. Put the gun down, and let me help you, and then, when the roads open, I’ll deliver you to the local authorities, and you can resume your recovery in a Luftwaffe hospital.”

The man looked at the ground and put the gun in his lap. His voice was weak, drained of life. “Why are you doing this for me?”

“Because I’m a nurse. Because you needed help.” Because I needed to be valuable again. I needed to do something useful, something good.

“You don’t need to deliver me to the authorities. I can look after myself.”

“Whatever you wish, Herr Graf. I really don’t care. Think of this as a recovery ward in a hospital. I’m here to do a job, and once you’re gone I’m no longer responsible. Does that sound fair?”

“Yes, it does. Thank you, Fr?ulein.” His body drooped. The color had drained from his face.

“You’re welcome. You must be half-starved. Have you had anything to eat?”

“I didn’t make it to the kitchen.”

“You wouldn’t have found much in there.”

Franka let out a deep breath. She still didn’t know who he was, but that conversation could wait. Right now she needed to be a nurse again, and that felt good. She reached into the bag and removed a small bottle of morphine. He didn’t speak as she drew out the syringe and filled it full of the clear liquid.

“This will help you with the worst of the pain. I have enough for the next three days or so, and then you’ll be back to aspirin. You might feel dizzy, faint, or drowsy, and we’ll keep a bucket for your vomit, but you’ll be spending the next few days in bed anyway. There’s no reason for you to be out here.”

“I understand.”

“You’re not my prisoner,” Franka said as she flicked the barrel of the syringe with her fingernail. “I’m a friend. You’ll come to see that in time. You’re free to go as soon as the roads open, or you can stay a little longer should you wish to continue your recovery here.”