Assignment Prague Read online

  ASSIGNMENT PRAGUE

  By

  Helen Haught Fanick

  For Vern and Margie

  Copyright © 2012 by Helen Haught Fanick

  Cover photo copyright © 2012 by Chosovi

  All rights reserved.

  This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination, or, if real, used fictitiously. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the express written permission of the author or publisher, except where permitted by law.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  My thanks to the family members and friends who have given me endless support, encouragement and love in my writing endeavors. Special gratitude is due the writers in my family, who also give me the benefit of their experience and wisdom. I appreciate those who have critiqued my work and offered suggestions and corrections—Ed Fanick, Ben Rehder, and Vernon and Marguerite Shettle. Thanks also to pixelstudio for the cover design. Historians may notice that I’ve taken a few liberties with the facts, but after all, this is fiction.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER_FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  BIOGRAPHY

  CHAPTER ONE

  The halfmoon wasn’t providing much light, but Anton Janak could see by the light of the torches outlining the field that the parachute wasn’t going to open. The woman didn’t scream; the only sound was the fading drone of the unidentifiable plane as it headed back to England. She appeared to be working with the cords of the chute. His contact had told him she was cool under pressure, probably to silence his complaints about working with a woman, and he felt a twinge of embarrassment that his heart felt as if it were pounding a hole in his chest. There was nothing he and the others could do but stand and watch as she plummeted toward the ground.

  He had warned his contact about the large oak in the middle of the field. Now it might be her salvation. She had the chute partially open and seemed to be maneuvering toward the tree.

  “She’s going to land in the tree,” Erik murmured. “God help her.” He crossed himself.

  They ran toward the tree just as the woman crashed through the upper foliage and disappeared to the sound of splintering branches. Anton could see her slumped in a fork of the tree amid a tangle of cord and torn parachute.

  “Get the blanket out of the back of the car. I’ll get her down.” Anton grabbed the lowest branch and pulled himself up so that his feet were on the limb and he was moving higher, beginning to climb. He reached the woman and felt for a pulse. “She’s unconscious, but she’s still alive.”

  He took a knife from his pocket and began cutting the harness and tangled cords. Her left leg dangled at a strange angle, and he was sure it was broken, but regardless, he had to get her out of the tree. He began lowering her as gently as possible, going down one limb at a time, until she was low enough for the others to reach her.

  “I think her left leg’s broken. Hold it steady and lay her on the blanket till I can get the chute out of the tree. We can’t leave it here. Jakub, take your shirt off and try to stop the bleeding. I could feel blood seeping through the jump suit. You’ll have to undo both the zippers to get her out of the suit. Take her helmet off, too. When you’ve stopped the bleeding, wrap the blanket around her. She’s undoubtedly in shock.”

  Anton cut and ripped until he had freed the parachute from the grasping twigs. He dropped it to the ground, and then shined his flashlight around in the tree to see if he’d missed anything. He descended to the lowest limb and swung down. At that moment they heard a plane in the distance.

  “The torches!” Jakub said, and they rushed to the car for the water in the trunk. They quickly doused the four blazes, threw the wet torches into the woods, and ran to hide under the tree till the plane was gone.

  “I don’t think they saw anything,” Erik said. He was gathering up the shredded parachute, checking with his flashlight to make sure no trace was left on the ground. He shined the light up into the tree. “Do you suppose a pilot flying overhead in daylight could see that something fell into the tree and broke the branches?”

  Anton was kneeling beside the woman. “I hope not. Maybe they’ll think lightning hit it. We have to get her into the car. Let’s lay her out on the backseat. The bleeding’s under control for now, but it may start up again when we move her.”

  “I’ll walk home from here,” Erik said. “It’s not that far.”

  “That’s okay, you can ride. I’ll have to get in the back with her to make sure she doesn’t start bleeding again.”

  “Where are we going to take her?” Jakub asked. “We can’t take her into town like this.”

  “We could say she was hit by a car when she was riding her bicycle,” Erik said.

  Anton shook his head. “I don’t think that’s going to work. She wouldn’t be out riding her bike in the middle of the night. Then, too, these gashes don’t look like they were made by being hit by a car, and if we’re stopped, it could mean disaster.” He looked at Erik. “I don’t suppose we could—”

  Erik looked at the ground. “No. My parents wouldn’t agree to have her there. I’m sorry, but they’re scared to death all the time.”

  Anton nodded. “I understand. Everybody’s afraid. But we have to do something. I’m thinking that abandoned farm down near the highway is the only choice. The house is boarded up tight, and someone might notice if we broke in, but there’s the barn. It’s standing wide open. I checked it out the other day for possible use in emergencies. She’ll only be there long enough for us to get her patched up. Then we’ll move her into town.”

  “What if she wakes up in the barn? She won’t know where she is. Who knows if she’ll remember anything?”

  “I’ll have to stay with her,” Anton said. “There’s no other way.”

  Jakub smirked. “That’s not going to make her highness happy.”

  Anton stood up, and Jakub backed away, holding out his hands up in a placating gesture. “I was just kidding. Take it easy.”

  “This is serious,” Anton said. “The whole operation is in jeopardy because of a parachute failing to open, and you’re making jokes.”

  Jakub didn’t say anything for a minute, and then leaned over toward the woman. “What did you say her name is?”

  “Tereza Valentova. Let’s get her to the car.”

  The ancient Citroen Rosalie sedan was parked where the dirt road ended at the edge of the field. It had been yellow with black fenders, and had sat in his Teta Adelka’s garage for years, taken out only for church on Sunday and an occasional shopping trip. She had protested, but not too strongly, when Anton took over the car, promising to show up on Sundays to take her to church and to be available when she needed to go shopping
. He bought black paint and a brush and covered the yellow with black, also promising to return the car to its original yellow when the war was over.

  Adelka Janakova was his father’s older sister. Anton knew she never forgave the Germans for the death of her brother, his father, who died of a heart attack on the day the Nazis invaded Czechoslovakia. Anton didn’t explain why he needed the car, but he was sure she had her suspicions and that part of her applauded. The other part undoubtedly worried about his safety.

  She probably worried, too, that he was spending far less time at his law practice. Not that money was a problem—they both had trust funds from Anton’s grandfather that covered necessities and more—but she believed he needed his work to make his life meaningful and often told him so.

  Now his days were often spent away from his office, and there was no way he could explain what he was up to. The car was a necessity for him. He hoped, if she suspected he was part of the resistance, she’d feel as if she were playing a small part in what he was doing by turning the Rosalie over to him.

  Anton was thinking of Teta Adelka as the three of them carried Tereza to the car, still draped in the blanket. His greatest fear was that they’d be caught, arrested, and the car would be traced back to his aunt, even though he’d put it in his name. He’d been seen driving her car in the past, before the invasion, on the rare occasion when he borrowed it or drove Teta Adelka somewhere. He figured it was better to continue using the Rosalie than to call attention to himself by buying a car, something he’d never done before.

  Anton and Erik held Tereza while Jakub opened both back doors. They managed to slide her onto the backseat, and Anton perched on the edge. The others got into the front, with Jakub in the driver’s seat. “Let’s go to the barn first so you can help me carry her in. Then you can take Erik home. Come back to the barn, and we’ll figure out how to get you home.” Jakub was nineteen, and not to be trusted for any length of time with the Rosalie. Anton wondered at times whether he could be trusted with their work. He was courageous, but prone to taking unnecessary risks.

  The abandoned farm was located at the end of the dirt road, near where it intersected with the highway. They drove down the lane and into the field beside the barn with lights off. Anton went into the barn with his flashlight and immediately heard rats squeaking. They were probably just as hungry as the humans who had abandoned the place. The floor was dirt with a little hay scattered around. There was no way they could take Tereza up the ladder to the hayloft, so he climbed up and threw down armloads of hay to make a bed for her. They carried her in and laid her on the hay.

  “I can’t leave her here alone,” Anton said. “I hear rats, and with those open wounds—”

  “I could take the car home and leave it in the alley by the apartment. I’ll come back tomorrow, and we can work out something,” Jakub said.

  “No, Erik, you drive Jakub home. Then come back, and you can walk home from here. Jakub, call Dr. Havelka when you get there. You know his number. Go in with him, Erik, and make sure everything gets worked out before you come back. Give him exact instructions for finding this place. You can turn on the lights once you’re on the highway, but leave them off on the dirt road. Let me get the parachute and the suit and helmet out of the back before you go. I’ll bury them here beside the barn. It looks like whoever lived here had animals that trampled the dirt outside, so I don’t think anyone will notice that I’ve been digging. Keep an eye on her and keep the rats away while I get rid of this stuff.”

  He dug a hole with a shovel that had been in Tereza’s pack, buried the items and walked over the area to smooth it, and then went inside to check on Tereza as Erik drove off with Jakub. Her pulse was still steady; she moaned slightly and was still. He shined his flashlight on her face—she was beautiful, just as he’d been told, in spite of the scratches on the right side of her face. Her hair was a golden blonde that would help convince anyone she was Czech.

  Flashing the light around them, he saw red eyes reflected back at him. Damn the rats. He couldn’t leave her for a minute. It was a half hour to Prague, so Erik should be back in an hour. It was almost five, and the sky was beginning to get light in the East. Erik would be back by six. The barn had an opening large enough for a hay wagon, and he could drive the Rosalie in so it wouldn’t be seen from the air. In the meantime, he’d leave the flashlight on so he could see what was creeping around in the corners.

  #

  He heard the car turn off the highway and onto the dirt road just after six. Both doors opened; Erik got out of the driver’s side and Dr. Havelka opened the passenger door. “His car’s in the shop,” Erik said. “I have to get home before my parents wake up, if they aren’t up already. I’m leaving now to walk home.”

  “I explained to him that you can’t leave her here,” the doctor said. “The barn’s too dirty, and with the rats, well, we have to take her to my place. I can take better care of her there. You can drive me, Anton, and help me get her settled. As you know, we have a place for her.”

  “What if we’re stopped on the way?”

  “We’ll tell them she was injured when someone ran into her on her bicycle, like you discussed before. They’ll believe me—I’m a doctor.”

  Anton had always admired Dr. Havelka’s bravery while at the same time considering him somewhat naïve. He was a short, pudgy man who looked thoughtful in gold-rimmed glasses. “We’ll leave her at your place for as short a time as possible. Then I’ll move her to the apartment we’ve rented for her. I can stay with her there as much as necessary.” Endangering the doctor was the last thing Anton wanted to do. He was too valuable; he had patched up two gunshot wounds during the time Anton had been active in the resistance. Now Tereza would present an even greater challenge.

  Erik was still standing beside them as they stood over Tereza, as if waiting for Anton’s permission to leave. “Go on home, Erik. I don’t want you to have trouble leaving the next time we need you. Thanks for your help.” They shook hands.

  “Let me know when you need me.” He turned and walked away.

  Dr. Havelka had brought a makeshift stretcher that fit in the backseat of the car, and they moved Tereza onto it and carried her easily to the Rosalie. “Will she be okay back there by herself?” Anton asked.

  “I’ll reach back and hold her steady. The bleeding’s virtually stopped. You fellows did a good job with that.”

  Anton’s worst fear was that she was bleeding internally and that she’d die before they reached the doctor’s office. “Do you think she has internal injuries?”

  “I doubt she does, but we can tell more about her condition when I get her home.” Dr. Havelka lived upstairs over his office with his wife Anna and assorted cats.

  “I understand she’s a nurse,” Anton said. “Her expertise should be helpful in her recovery.”

  “That’s a definite plus,” the doctor said as they started toward Prague.

  #

  Dr. Havelka lived just a few blocks from Teta Adelka on Valdstejnska Street in Mala Strana, or Lesser Town, and Anton knew the area well. He drove into an alley behind the doctor’s house. With any luck, they’d be able to transfer Tereza to the house before anyone was awake in the neighboring homes. They left the car doors open to keep from waking the neighbors, slid Tereza and the stretcher from the car, and took her into the house.

  They lifted her off the stretcher and onto a hospital bed in a room at the back of the house, a room that contained only the bed with a light over it and a cabinet Anton assumed was full of medical supplies. “You must go home now and get some sleep,” the doctor said. “Anna will come down and help me with her.”

  “I need to get the car out of the alley and out of sight. I’ll walk back later and see how she’s doing when I’ve had some sleep.”

  #

  Anton’s landlady had no car; it had disappeared years ago along with her husband, so she was happy to rent her tiny garage to him when he rented the apartment above her shop in Old T
own. The garage was located at the back of her bakery and was so small that there was barely room for him to squeeze out of the Rosalie once the car was inside. At least the car was hidden, so it was worth the inconvenience. Rickety stairs led up the side of the building to his flat, and he could see that a light was on inside when he came around the building from the garage. He went back to the car and took his vz.22 from its hiding place under the dashboard.

  He put the pistol in the waistband of his trousers and went back to the stairs. When he reached the top, he removed the gun with his right hand and tried the doorknob with his left. The door was unlocked. When he pushed it open, he could see through the small sitting area to the bedroom, and there, in his bed, was Eliska Muller.

  She pulled the sheet up to her chin. “Don’t shoot!” She was smiling.

  He put the pistol in a box on his bookshelf. “What are you doing here?”

  “You promised to take me to breakfast.”

  “That was yesterday. I took you to breakfast yesterday.”

  “I thought you were taking me again today. And every day. What are you doing with a gun?”

  “I inherited it from my grandfather. I think he got it shortly after the war.”

  “The war?”

  “The first World War.”

  “You know you’re not supposed to own a gun now.”

  “It’s an heirloom. I can’t get rid of it. I keep it hidden.”

  “It wasn’t hidden just now. You must have taken it somewhere.” She kept looking at him, waiting for an explanation.

  “I was visiting some friends in the country. We were target practicing. They just dropped me off. I saw the light was on, and I thought you might be a burglar.”

  “Why didn’t you take me along to the country? Now that my divorce is underway, there’s no problem with being seen together. I’d love to shoot a gun.”

  Eliska was spoiled, rich, and gorgeous. Her blonde hair cascaded over the pillow and she was looking at him with eyes the color of jade. In spite of his fatigue, he wanted her.