The One Man (41 page)

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Authors: Andrew Gross

BOOK: The One Man
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He felt expansive.

One of the first pieces Leisa had ever played at recital was from
Orpheus in the Underworld
. By the German Offenbach. It told of the grieved, desperate lover who ventured down into the underworld with his lyre, passing the ghosts and anguished souls of people unknown; charming Cerberus, the guardian of the deep with his three gnashing heads until even the cold heart of Hades melted just enough and he allowed Orpheus's love, Eurydice, to go back to the world above with him.

Whatever you do, don't look back
was the underworld ruler's only condition.

And in a way Blum felt like that lyre player himself. Seducing his way into Hell, cheating death not once but twice; past the wires and the guards, until the beautiful sound of music somehow lured him to her.

Except this time he would not leave her behind.

This, not the calculations of some professor, was why God had sent him here.

“Leisa,” he whispered, squeezing her on the shoulder. “Wake up now.”

His sister stirred with a start and then, as if reassured that Nathan still was beside her, smiled. “I had the most troubling dream,” she said. “We were back in Krakow. I was hiding. In the attic of Father's shop. You remember how we used to play up there, amid the rows and rows of hats and size molds?”

“Yes.”

“Except this time I was locked in. It was dark, and no one could hear me when I called, and for a moment I was really scared. So I played. Somehow I had my clarinet, and I had to play louder and louder. I was sure no one would ever come. That I would be lost up there forever. But then you came. You found your way in. You rescued me, Nathan.”

“I know,” he said with a smile. “I was having similar thoughts myself. Just like today.”

She turned to him. “We're going to make it, aren't we, Nathan?”

“Yes. We will.”

“No, I mean, really. You can tell me. Because I couldn't go on if I was causing you danger. I'd rather die here, Nathan. I—”

“Hush now.” He squeezed her arm. “No one's going to die. You remember the vow I made to Papa when he held you in the window…?”

“I remember you telling me about it.” Leisa smiled. “I was just an infant.”

“Just know that my promise to keep it is even stronger now. So yes, we will make it. I promise.” He looked at the man sleeping in the bunk across from them. “Now, put this on.” He handed her his cap and tucked it down over her brow. He put his hands in the gravel near the foundation and smeared a bit of dirt from his thumbs onto her cheeks. “Now you look like a tough young man.”

“Not such a flattering thing to say, Nathan.”

“Maybe. But today it will save your life. So let's go.” He pulled her to her feet. His heartbeat picked up with urgency. “It's time.”

 

SIXTY-THREE

NEWMARKET AIR BASE, ENGLAND

Strauss was on the tarmac briefing the flight crew that was preparing to leave when a radioman ran up and said he had an important call. He followed the man back up to the communication center.

It was Donovan. Back in Washington.

“So tonight's the big night, Peter?” the OSS chief said.

“Yes, sir, it is.”

“I'm sure this is a stressful time for you. Have we heard anything more?”

“Only what I've patched along. Blum's inside. The plane crew is preparing their flight plan. We have diversionary bombers set for Hamburg and Dresden. The partisan attack will go off as planned in five hours.”

“Well, you've done your job well, son. You should be proud, whatever the result. I just called to tell you good luck.”

“Thank you, Colonel.”

“How is it you say that in Hebrew, Captain?”


Beh-hats-la-khah
, sir,” Strauss replied. “Literally, it means
in success
.”

“In success…? You know, it's generally not a good thing in this trade to set your hopes too high. There's always more on these things that can go wrong than right and dash them. In this case, a lot more. We both knew from the start the odds of success were long.”

“I understand, Colonel. But I'm thinking my man might just surprise you in this case.”

“Well, nothing would make me happier than to inform the president so. So let's say we both put in a little hope on this one.”

“Thank you, sir. I appreciate that.”


Beh-hats-la-khah
then.” The OSS chief stumbled over the word. “You know,
mazel tov
would be a damn sight easier.”

Strauss laughed. “Yes. We'll see about that then, sir. A bit later.”

“I'll be at my desk as long as it takes awaiting the news.”

“Yes, sir. I'll inform you as soon as I know something.”

Strauss put down the phone. It was hard to stop his heart from pounding. He had a good feeling inside him. Hell with the odds, he smiled. He felt certain tonight they were going to buck them.

 

SIXTY-FOUR

At just before 1930 hours, the work line formed under the clock near the main gate. About thirty to forty prisoners stood in an irregular formation. Most, including many who had already worked a full day and had been roused from their naps, showed little desire to be there. Blum came up with Leisa and settled into the ragtag line. On Blum's instructions, she kept her eyes down and her cap low on her brow. With her dark features and dirt smeared on her cheeks, she didn't look much different than any teenage boy. Darkness had fallen. Four or five of the SS guards stood around, keeping order. Others ringed the area around the front gate armed with submachine guns. Dogs barked and tugged at their leashes, as if the scent of Jews trudging off to work reminded them that it was mealtime.

Alfred and his nephew came up and melded into the queue.

“Is everything done?” Blum asked.

Mendl nodded. “But who is this?” he asked, surprised to see Blum with someone else. His face reflected what Blum already knew: That three was one thing, but now four, whoever this addition was … Four would be harder to conceal as they tried to lose themselves in the attack. Four was one too many.

“You said you wouldn't leave behind your own flesh and blood,” Blum said, gesturing to Leo.

“Yes, but…”

“Well, neither would I. Leisa, this is the man I came here to rescue.”

“Leisa?”
Mendl stared at her, his eyes widening in confusion.

“My sister,” Blum said under his breath. “An unanticipated development. But she's coming along. Any issues?”

“Your sister?”
Mendl saw there was no wavering on Blum's face. “No issues at all,” he replied. And no time to argue anyway.

“I'm Leo,” Mendl's nephew said. “We'll all watch out for each other.”

Leisa nodded back a nervous smile.

Blum pressed some bills in Alfred's hand. “Here. At the going rate, enough for four.”

A few stragglers arrived. “Stay in line!” Guards and
kapos
pushed everyone together. Slowly the line began to move forward. The dogs barked, snarling at prisoners as they shuffled past, held back only by their straining handlers. Blum watched as Mendl made eye contact with a
kapo
who was traveling down the line wielding a truncheon.

“Ready for a hard night's work, Professor?” The shifty-eyed
kapo
seemed to recognize him.

“Hopefully, it won't be as bad as all that. This line is for the rail tracks, right?”

“Yes, the rail tracks.” The
kapo
nodded.

Alfred reached out and pressed the bills Blum had given him into the
kapo
's palm. Zinchenko shifted his eyes down and seemed surprised. “It's now four of us,” Alfred said.

“Four?”

“Why do you care? Someone else came along. It's all been paid for.”

The
kapo
glared at him with contempt but put the cash in his pocket. “Stay in line or I'll make sure your bell is rung good.” He raised his club at a prisoner in the row behind them.

Trucks pulled up outside the front gate. The camp labor fed various work sites. Some for the rail tracks that went up to Birkenau and various ditches beyond the camp gates, used both for sewage or as a mass grave for those who didn't make it to the ovens, which were only a short ride away. Others—the IG Farben facility and a munitions plant—were situated a mile or two to the west by Auschwitz 3. The trick, as when Blum first arrived here, was to make sure they were positioned in the proper line; otherwise it all was pointless. The attack would come and they'd be in a different location. They'd be stranded here.

“Remember, run toward the river,” Blum said into Alfred's ear. “As soon as the shooting starts. Not to the woods. They will provide cover for us.”

“I will get him there,” Leo said.

“You will do just as we discussed,” Alfred rebuked him sharply. For the first time Blum saw just how doubtful the old man was that he'd be able to run amid the shooting. Still, everything depended on him getting there. And alive.

“You stay by me,” Blum said, posting himself between Alfred and Leisa. Now he had two to protect.

“What if we are out there and the attack doesn't come?” Alfred asked. “What if all we get is our ladle of soup and then we're marched back in?”

“Then you are no worse off than when you woke up this morning.” Blum shrugged philosophically. “But I won't be able to say the same.”

Leo pointed toward the front. “We're going.”

The line began to move, an officer at the front counting off those who passed before him. Alfred and Leo merged in behind.

“There is something I must tell you,” Mendl said close to Blum's ear, “in case I don't make it.”

“You'll make it.”

“It's about Leo.”

“Your nephew? Don't worry, I'll do my best to watch out for him as well. I give you my—”

“No, that's not what I meant. I—”

Suddenly the officer taking numbers at the front of the line yelled,
“Vierzig! Vierzig nur. Nicht mehr.”

Forty. Forty only.

He counted each prisoner and tapped them on the head as they went by.

Blum froze. He scanned up ahead. Maybe fifteen or twenty had already passed through. There had to be an equal number still in front of them. A knot twisted in his stomach. “We're going to be left behind,” he said to Mendl, worry setting in. If they were sure to make it through, they'd have to move up three or four rows in line.

“Zinchenko…” Mendl got the eye of the
kapo
he had bribed. “They said just forty only…”

“A meal's a meal, Professor,” the
kapo
replied indifferently. “There are other lines.”

“Those other details are more like death marches,” Mendl pressed him. “We paid your price. A deal's a deal, Zinchenko. Honor it.”

“You want to argue, Professor?” The
kapo
reared his club. “Here's the court of appeals.” The bastard clearly didn't like to be challenged.

Panic reared up as Blum looked ahead and saw the work line nearing its last ten, the officer counting aloud.
“Thirty-one, thirty-two…”
He tapped the head of each prisoner he let through.

Fifteen or so were still in front of them.

“We're not going to make it,” Blum said, his alarm mounting. Could it now be all for nothing? The plane might already be in the air. The attack … It was tonight or never. They had to move up.

“There's more where that came from, Zinchenko,” Mendl whispered to the
kapo,
seeing the same outcome taking shape. “I can get it for you.”

“Dreiunddreißig, vierunddreißig
…” the officer called.
Thirty-three, thirty-four.

Ten still in front of them. And only six more spots.

“Zinchenko…” Alfred hissed.


Here!
More grist for the mill tonight,” the
kapo
called out, pushing the professor and Leo forward and grabbing Blum by the neck of his uniform. Blum held onto Leisa. The kapo threw the four of them forward toward the front of the line, grunting to the officer who was counting them off. “These four are on me tonight. Top workers, all of them.”

“None of them look like they can even hold a spade,” the German replied, looking them over. Then, back to his counting as if it was no matter. “Thirty-five, thirty-six, thirty-seven, thirty-eight…” The officer pushed each of them on the shoulder until they passed. “Only two more,” he said to the row behind them. “Everyone else, keep your lines. There will be more details.”

They'd made it through.

Relieved, Blum squeezed Leisa's arm as they made their way slowly through the main gate, which was ringed by guards staring blankly ahead as if the prisoners were cattle, not men. Many in line grumbled about their rotten fate. Roused out of their bunks, deprived of a night's sleep. And just their luck, Hauptscharführer Scharf was in charge; he had a hair trigger even when he'd had a good night's sleep. Tarps were cleared from the bays of the trucks and those in the front of the line began to climb in, guards checking numbers and pushing them along, dogs snarling, barking loudly, a reminder to anyone who might have a thought of escape outside the wires.

Blum's heart pounded with anticipation. It was one thing for him to sneak through with only Mendl, but Leo and Leisa made it far more challenging. But they were almost there. Only one more checkpoint. Ahead, another guard was taking down workers' numbers. Getting Leisa through would be the final hurdle. With her hair shaved and dirt smeared on her cheeks, in truth, she looked no less a man than Leo. “Just say your name and show your arm,” Blum whispered in her ear. “And don't look him in the eye. Keep your head down. You'll be fine.” She nodded bravely, but Blum could feel her nervous heart beating briskly.

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