Behind Enemy Lines (13 page)

I
T WAS
late when the knock came to Colonel Von Roenne’s office. When he heard it, Dak was on the floor in the corner of the room, sorting papers for filing, and trying very hard not to stop and read the pages full of fascinating history. As the man entered, Dak knew immediately who it was: Major Kuhlenthal.

Dak knew about the major from the many history books he’d read on World War II. Following Kuhlenthal’s identification of Mincemeat Man as a fraud, he had been selected as one of Hitler’s top officers. From that new position, the SQ had been able to manipulate him to get everything they wanted. He had gone on to destroy the Allies in future battles at Normandy and Russia, and even helped defeat the U.S. Marines as far away as Iwo Jima in Japan.

But here, in 1943, Major Kuhlenthal was still a mid-level spy delivering his report on Mincemeat Man to his superiors. If Sera and Riq had done their jobs, then Kuhlenthal believed Major Martin was real and would recommend pulling military forces out of Sicily to defend Greece. It would then be up to Dak to ensure that Germany followed Kuhlenthal’s advice. But if Sera and Riq had failed, there would be little Dak could do to persuade anyone otherwise.

Dak stood when Kuhlenthal entered the room and the two men exchanged a “Heil Hitler” with their outstretched right arms. When Kuhlenthal was ordered at ease, Dak quickly knelt down again to continue his work on the files. He hoped Von Roenne had forgotten about him, or at least wouldn’t make him leave. He hadn’t seen Cleo and Anton for a while, but then he hadn’t exactly left this room either. He knew they were out there somewhere, looking for a way to get him.

While glaring at Dak, Kuhlenthal said to Von Roenne, “I have the news we’ve been waiting for. Perhaps we should discuss it privately.”

“He’s a child,” Von Roenne said dismissively, retaking his seat. “And he has much to learn from me. Let’s have the news at once. The Führer is becoming anxious.”

“He should be anxious,” Kuhlenthal said. “The rumors you’ve heard are true. The Allied target isn’t Sicily. It’s Greece.”

Dak’s ears perked up — literally; he thought they might have risen a little higher, like a dog’s — but he kept his head bent low and continued working. Kuhlenthal handed Von Roenne a folder and then sat across the desk from him.

There was silence while Von Roenne filed through the papers, and Dak saw from the corner of his eye that several photos were included, too. To his curious brain, not being able to look at the photos was torture. It was like putting a chef in a gourmet restaurant and telling him not to taste the food.

With his eyes still on the report in front of him, Von Roenne said, “Is there any chance the British will know we’ve seen these papers?”

“None.” Kuhlenthal smiled, pleased with himself. “They’ll have their papers back tomorrow in their original condition and will never know we have copies. I could fool them with one eye shut.”

“The British aren’t stupid,” Von Roenne scolded. “With both eyes open, tell me if this Major Martin is real.”

Kuhlenthal sat up even straighter. “I can assure you, sir. Major Martin is a drowned British officer who was carrying top secret military plans. My report is a guarantee of Germany’s success in this war!”

If he had meant to impress Von Roenne with that speech, he was going to be disappointed. Dak heard the Colonel “hmph” and turn to another page.

“Your report says survivors of the crash are being interrogated?” he asked. “Interesting.”

Dak smirked. There were no other survivors, because there had never been a plane crash. Kuhlenthal was exaggerating, probably in the hope of making his report more believable.

Eventually, Von Roenne closed the report and handed it back to Kuhlenthal. “Very well. I am sure you’ll show that report to the other officers here. I will send my recommendation to the Führer by tomorrow morning.”

Kuhlenthal stood, but did not leave. When he had the colonel’s attention, he said, “Sir, the Führer will listen to your advice more than anyone’s. He wants good news from us, not bad. If the report is true, then we will have a major victory against the Allies.”

“The Führer wants
accurate
news from us,” Von Roenne said sharply. “That is our duty, and nothing more.”

“Yes, Colonel.” Kuhlenthal saluted, tucked the report under his arm, and then left, closing the door behind him.

As soon as he’d left, Von Roenne leaned back in his chair and pressed his fingers to his temples as if a headache had come on. Dak could understand that. Ten minutes in Kuhlenthal’s company and he had a headache, too.

“I know you overheard that,” Von Roenne muttered to Dak. “You say that you know a lot about history. So, tell me: Is this real? Or is this a Trojan horse? A way for the British to fool us as they plan to invade Sicily?”

Dak stood and shoved his hands in his pockets. He felt a little torn in what he should say. He had grown to like Colonel Von Roenne. If Von Roenne gave bad advice to Hitler, he would have to pay the consequences. But Dak reminded himself that Von Roenne was still a Nazi, still on the wrong side of this war, and that as a spy, it was Dak’s job to ignore his feelings and complete the mission. If Germany left Sicily, thousands of lives could be saved in this war, not to mention saving Earth from the Cataclysm.

“Well, what should I advise?” Von Roenne asked. “How will my choice tonight be remembered by history?”

“History teaches us that people who make the brave choices are heroes.” Dak sat up straighter. “We study history to know the stories of those who stood face-to-face with real villains and won. We study history so that when it’s time for us to make the hard choice, we’ll know that we can do it, too.”

Silence fell in the room for a moment. Dak thought about how he’d felt as they traveled through time, changing history, in some cases totally reversing the way things would be remembered. He’d felt more and more off-balance to realize that so much of what he knew, or thought he knew, about history would be different once he returned home.

“That was quite a speech,” Von Roenne said softly.

“The past is easy for me,” Dak said. “It’s knowing the future that gives me trouble.”

But then it hit him. History wasn’t just about understanding the past. It was about understanding the future,
his
future. It was about having the tools to shape the future. And all he had to know was that when it came time for him to make choices, he would make the heroic choice, just as the greatest people throughout history had done. No matter what changed in the past, his future hadn’t yet been written. He had to shape it, bit by bit.

With the right choices, the Cataclysm could still be avoided. Sera could bring her parents back, he could save his parents within the time warp, and Riq could — well, Riq could do whatever it was that Riq did.

“Fear makes the wolf bigger than he is,”
Von Roenne said. “It’s an old German saying.”

The image of Adolf Hitler’s face came to Dak’s mind. Hitler called himself the wolf. He wanted people to be afraid of him, to make the weaker choice.

“Germany should move its forces to Greece,” Dak finally said. “That’s what you should recommend.”

“But there’s only one problem,” Von Roenne said. “Major Martin’s papers are fakes. I know it, and I have a feeling that you know it, too.”

Dak felt as stunned as if Von Roenne had hit him. But before he could speak, Von Roenne said, “There’s a bright light shining in my windows; I think a car outside has left its lights on. Go close the curtains.”

Dak shuffled toward the window, walking slowly to give himself a chance to think what he should say next. When he came to the window, the lights of the car turned off, allowing Dak to see the people on the grass below.

Sera and Riq were there, staring up at him with their hands tied behind their backs. Cleo and Anton stood directly behind them, looking far too eager to cause some damage. And getting out of the car was Tilda. She brushed a hand down Sera’s hair, which would’ve looked motherly if Sera hadn’t flinched and batted Tilda’s hand away with her shoulder. When she saw Dak staring down at them, Tilda pointed directly at him. Her index finger signaled him to come down to her, and the expression in her hollow eyes was perfectly clear. Either Dak would make an appearance right then to Tilda, or Sera and Riq were mincemeat.

“I’
LL GET
you that tea,” Dak said as he started to leave Von Roenne’s office.

“What tea?”

“You asked for some tea like three hours ago. I’ll go get it now.”

Von Roenne called after him, but Dak was already halfway down the hall, then racing down the stairs and out the door. He jogged across the lawn, stopping far enough from the group that he could talk to them without being seized.

Riq shook his head when he saw Dak coming, but Sera looked relieved. At the moment, Dak wasn’t entirely sure if he had made the right decision by coming out here. Obviously, he had to help his friends, but maybe he should’ve thought of some cool rescue plan first, like swooping in from above, snatching them in his arms, and flying away.

On second thought, a plan like that would’ve required superpowers, which were hard to come by. He’d have to trust in his ability to improvise.

“Menacing, interfering kids!” Tilda said. “We are so close to controlling both sides in this war. Don’t you know how important this night is for the SQ?”

Dak rolled his eyes. Well, duh, obviously he knew.

“Don’t you know how important this night is for the Hystorians?” he countered. “After tonight, the SQ will be on the road to collapse.”

Tilda laughed. “The SQ is more powerful than ever right now, thanks to you!”

Dak’s eyes darted to Sera, who still had the Infinity Ring’s sack around her waist. So Tilda didn’t have it . . . yet.

Tilda walked over to Dak. “We’re going back inside those headquarters now. You’re going to tell Colonel Von Roenne that you’ve been spying on him and that Mincemeat Man is a lie. You will do this, or you know what’ll happen to your friends.”

“No,” Riq said. “Save history, not me. It’s okay, Dak. I’m a Hystorian.” Beside him, Sera nodded, and Dak couldn’t have been prouder in that moment to have them for friends.

“We’re all Hystorians,” Dak said. “And I won’t help you now.”

“Yes, you will!” Angrily, Tilda grabbed Dak’s arm.

Something happened when she did. Something he had experienced only once before, when he and Sera had returned to the future. Almost as if a bolt of electricity had shot through him, Dak collapsed to the ground, shivering with cold and nearly incoherent.

Somewhere in the background, he heard Sera scream. Tilda stood over him like a drooling attack dog, shouting to the others that it was only a Remnant and it would pass.

She was right about that. The pain was already receding, the worst of the icy chills. But he was still shivering and still left with the horrible feeling that the Cataclysm was coming sooner than ever. Somehow, he knew that Tilda was right — the SQ had the upper hand now. He didn’t understand how that could be possible, but the one thing he was certain about made his blood run cold:

Dak’s Remnant was the knowledge that the destruction of the world was his fault.

By the time Dak gathered his wits, he was being carried into headquarters over Anton’s shoulder. His hands were tied behind his back just as Sera’s and Riq’s were. Tilda and Cleo were marching on either side of him, with Riq and Sera just ahead. He didn’t remember anyone deciding they should all go inside together, but he was glad they had. Whatever was going to happen next, he wanted Riq and Sera with him. If they succeeded or failed, they would do it together.

Cleo led them to a room near the kitchen, which she said wouldn’t be in use this time of night. They went inside, and Anton dumped Dak on the floor, then ordered Riq and Sera to sit beside him. Sera pressed her shoulder against his in a sign of sympathy, and Riq gave him a bump in the ribs with his elbow. He felt better just having them around.

“Fetch Colonel Von Roenne,” Tilda ordered Cleo and Anton. “Whether Dak confesses or not, I can give him the evidence of their interference.”

There wasn’t much Dak could say to that. Tilda could easily prove they had interfered with this time line, and Von Roenne obviously wouldn’t betray his own country to help him.

Colonel Alexis Von Roenne. Maybe in a strange way, the Remnant had started to clear Dak’s mind. Wiped it clean of everything, except for what he needed to know to finish this mission. Suddenly, Dak knew that name’s place in history.

With Cleo and Anton on their errand, Tilda found a chair and sat cross-legged on it. She withdrew a hand grenade and tossed it from one hand to the other in a way that made him nervous. Those things weren’t toys.

“Blow us up now and you’ll go with us,” Riq said.

“Give me some credit,” Tilda snapped. “I know how to use a grenade.” But she stopped tossing it between her hands.

“In World War Two, the Americans designed a grenade about the size of a baseball.” The fact spilled from Dak’s mouth before he could stop himself. “They figured since any American boy could throw a baseball, he could throw a grenade, too.”

“I’ve never played baseball,” Tilda said.

“What a shocker,” Sera whispered.

Tilda glared at them, then said, “Things may go easier for you if you confess to the colonel. Maybe it will only be the concentration camps instead of your executions.”

“The concentration camps were just a slower form of execution,” Dak said.

Tilda nodded. “They were. But they are only the beginning if the SQ takes control of this war. Just imagine the possibilities.”

“Even you couldn’t be that cruel,” Sera said.

“Are you sure?” Tilda laughed. “Do you want to know how cruel I can be? Cruel enough to take a mother and father from their infant daughter and enjoy the fact that she will grow up never knowing them. I wish you could ask your parents about that day, Sera. But I’m afraid you’ll never have the chance.”

Beside him, Dak felt the muscles in Sera’s arm tighten, but she said nothing.

“Why would you take them?” Dak asked. “If they were loyal SQ —”

“I never said they were loyal!” Tilda snapped. “But the SQ has them again, and you will never see them. Not alive anyway.”

“You’d better let them go,” Dak yelled. “Or I’ll —”

“Or you’ll what? Time travel somewhere? You can’t even get the hang of it well enough to find your own parents.” Tilda’s grin turned wicked. “But I know where they are. They have no idea what’s coming for them next. But I do.”

Dak squirmed. How could Tilda talk so confidently about time travel? Maybe she had gotten back to 1943 with their Infinity Ring, but she couldn’t go anywhere else. However, she didn’t seem to think she was stuck here at all.

Sera had the answer. “You have your own Infinity Ring, don’t you?”

Riq and Dak exchanged glances, both raising eyebrows to the other. But Sera remained focused on Tilda.

“You knew where I’d hidden our Infinity Ring and you broke into the locker,” Sera said. “You used a strand of my hair to trick the device’s DNA detector, and then must’ve gone back to the future to have the SQ replicate our Infinity Ring.”

“I prefer to call it the Eternity Ring, actually,” Tilda said. “Regardless, it took us months. The technology was more complicated than we had expected. We’re surprised a girl of your age can operate it.”

“Never underestimate a girl who knows science,” Sera said. “Or for that matter, a history or language genius either.”

For the first time, Riq spoke up. “Once you had your own Infinity Ring, you returned ours to the very same place and time we had left it. But why? You could’ve just kept ours and stranded us here.”

Tilda nodded at Sera. “We wanted to see where you would go next, follow you through history and destroy the Hystorians one by one. Unfortunately, you figured out our plan, so I’m afraid it’ll have to change. Your journey through time ends tonight . . . permanently.”

“If that’s the case, I figure we have nothing to lose,” Riq said. And before Dak was fully aware of what was happening, Riq slid his tied hands under his body and was on his feet, rushing at Tilda.

Sera joined in. Her hands were still behind her, but she got in a good kick that toppled Tilda’s chair over backward. The grenade that had been in her hands rolled into a corner. For his part, Dak tried doing the same move as Riq, but his hands got caught between his legs, which forced him to hunch over and hop around like some sort of deranged rabbit.

Caught off guard, Tilda toppled over on the floor. Sera knelt on one of the woman’s arms, pinning it down, and Riq wrested a purse away from Tilda’s other arm. After a little more hopping, Dak got his arms entirely in front of him and rushed to join his friends. Riq pulled the new Infinity Ring — the Eternity Ring — from Tilda’s purse, causing her to yell in anger. She clutched at Riq, leaving a nasty scratch up his arm. But he grabbed her hand and kicked the Ring toward Dak.

“Destroy it!” Riq yelled. “Smash it, Dak!”

The Eternity Ring was made of a blue metal and glowed wherever someone grabbed on to it. But in all other ways, it seemed to be the same as the original one. Dak picked up Tilda’s Ring and ran to a corner of the room, where he began hitting it against the ground. It dented and a screw wobbled in place, but the thing was built pretty solid. That figured. The SQ finally made a quality product, and it was the one thing he needed to break!

He raised up his arms again and hurled the Eternity Ring onto the ground with all his strength. He heard a crash of glass, but then Tilda rose up and grabbed him around the throat. Riq and Sera were fighting her from behind, but Tilda was much stronger than she looked and was holding her own against the three kids.

If he could only get the grenade, he could affix it to the device and warp it away. That would destroy it. But Tilda was still choking him, and the room around him was starting to fade.

“Stop this!” a voice commanded.

Everyone froze and turned to look at Von Roenne standing in the doorway with Cleo and Anton ahead of him, and two Nazi soldiers at his sides.

Dak, Sera, and Riq scooted to the other side of the room as Cleo and Anton rushed to Tilda and Von Roenne stepped inside. His face was a deep shade of red and his chest heaved with anger. “Somebody explain this to me at once!”

Tilda spoke first. “These children attacked me.”

“Did they? And whose weapon is this?” Von Roenne bent over and picked the grenade up off the floor, then carefully handed it to one of the soldiers.

Tilda looked insulted at that, but only said, “I was trying to hold them here for arrest while my friends went to find you.”

“Arrest?” Von Roenne said. “On what charge?”

“Spying,” Anton said. “Colonel Von Roenne, we’ve been after Dak since the moment he wormed his way inside this building. He’s working for the British.”

“Not true!” Dak said. Okay, yes, he was spying, but not for the British. He was working for the Hystorians.

“This other boy and girl are spies, too,” Cleo said. “The boy was in Britain, helping translate languages.”

“Translate this,” Riq said defiantly.
“Jus pasmirsti kaip supuvusia surio!”

Dak chuckled as his decoder picked up the phrase spoken in Lithuanian, which said, “You stink like rotten cheese!” Even if he kind of thought of that as a compliment, he knew Cleo wouldn’t.

But she ignored Riq and pointed to Sera. “And this girl was in Spain, attempting to convince your spies that the body of Major Martin is that of a real British officer.”

Von Roenne raised an eyebrow. “Ah, I heard about you. You children all work together, then?”

“We’re on the right side of history,” Dak said. “Are you?”

Without answering, Von Roenne turned to Cleo and Anton. “You captured these spies. What do you want in reward?”

They looked at each other. Anton cleared his throat and then said, “We represent an organization that has existed for hundreds of years and stretches all over this world. In exchange for capturing these spies, we want a meeting with your Führer. He needs to know how things are going to work between us from now on.”

“Then you are not Nazis?” Von Roenne asked.

“We don’t have time for this!” Tilda said. “Let’s just go!”

But Anton was already speaking. “We are greater than the Nazis, more powerful. We will be around long after you’re gone. We are the SQ, and our time has come at last!”