D-Notice by Bill Walker (big ebook reader txt) 📗

“I’m so sorry, Michael.... For everything.”

Michael crumpled the letter in his hands, his knuckles turning white.

“Her real name is Svetlana Dubrova. She married your father as a cover. Her mission was to remain in place until needed. She’s lived a lie for over forty years, Michael.... And, so have you.... Now, give me the letter, and I will let her live.”

Feliks Danya watched the unfolding tableau from the rear deck of the lounge one level above the aft deck. He could feel the situation spinning out of control, which meant it would have to be dealt with drastically. Coughing into his fist, he turned to the man next to him, a tall, stolid Georgian named Tadiz, and nodded. Tadiz acknowledged the signal with a nod of his own, then bent down to an open Haliburton case and began assembling the Dragunov sniper rifle.

Michael’s eyes blazed with anger. “What did you mean by saying that I’ve lived a lie, too?”

Mueller grinned and turned to Hedeon. “Why don’t you tell him, Pavel? You want the truth revealed so much, tell him yourself....” He grabbed the other man roughly by the hair. “Tell him!”

The look in Hedeon’s eyes could only be called murderous, as if any moment he might throw caution to the wind and wrap his bear-like hands around the German’s neck and squeeze the life out of him. He turned to Michael, his expression softening.

“You were never to know, Michael. It was supposed to remain a secret between your mother and I....”

It all came clear to Michael in an instant.

“No! It’s a lie,” he screamed, “a goddamned lie!”

He turned to Lillian, who regarded him with an expression he could only describe as triumphant.

“It is a lie, Michael,” she said, her eyes shining with affection. “I loved your father, but I also loved Pavel. Telling him that you were his son was the only way I could stay in Britain once the war had ended.... You’ve only to look in the mirror to see the truth, dear...something Pavel was always too blind to see.”

Hedeon’s face darkened with anger. “Harlot!” he shouted, moving to strike her.

Franz grabbed his arm and twisted it up behind his back, eliciting a shriek of agony from the older man.

Michael ignored the scuffle, his attention riveted on Mueller.

“What about the girl, Mueller? Both you and I know she’s not Rainer’s daughter.... Who the hell is she?

“You are right about that, my boy,” he said, laughing. “She is not Rainer’s daughter.... She is mine. Mallory?”

Erika walked out from the shadows behind her father, joining him. Michael stared daggers at her. To her credit, she met his hateful glare with a level gaze of her own.

Mueller gave her an affectionate pat, which she shrugged off. He ignored it. “Please go to Michael and take the letter from him, my dear.”

Danya sensed his moment approaching and tapped Tadiz, who pulled back the bolt and let it slide back, seating a round into the chamber of the automatic rifle. Kneeling, the Georgian brought the rifle up to his cheek and gazed through the scope. Michael’s head bobbed in the crosshairs, then he shifted it over to Werner Mueller.

His fingers tightened on the trigger.

And he waited....

Erika moved forward as if her feet were weighed down with lead. Michael watched her, his mind warring with itself. He wanted to hate her for lying to him, for leading him on by the nose, and most of all...for stealing his heart. Yet he realized he couldn’t hate her, and that made it all the worse.

She halted a few feet in front of him, her eyes brimming. “I’m sorry, Michael, I would have told you. I didn’t mean for it to come to this.”

She extended her hand, reaching for the envelope. Michael hesitated a moment, then looked to his mother, who nodded almost imperceptibly.

To hell with it. It’s not bloody worth it.

Michael went to place the envelope into Erika’s outstretched hand. Instead of taking it, she grasped his hand, her cool flesh a galvanic shock against his own. His breath caught in his throat when he met her gaze. Her eyes spoke the true depth of her love for him; her mouth silently formed the words. He nodded and let the envelope go, watching as Erika turned to face her father, a look of defiance on her face.

When she didn’t move, Mueller brought the barrel of his pistol up and aimed it at his daughter’s chest. “Your mother was a sentimentalist, too. It was one of the reasons I left her. Bring me the letter, Mallory. Remember where your loyalties lie.”

“Give it to him, Erika, please,” Michael said, his grip tightening on her shoulders.

“No, I won’t be his little puppet anymore.”

Mueller cocked the hammer of his pistol. It sounded like the crack of a whip.

Tadiz held his breath, his finger hovering over the trigger.

Now! Get the son of a whore, now!

Smiling, he pulled the trigger.

The shot sounded like a cannon’s roar, mixing with Erika’s scream as a high-powered bullet ripped through her upper chest, propelling her into Michael’s arms. Grappling with her leaden form, he lowered her to the deck. She gazed up at him with a pleading look that sent fear knifing into his heart.

The envelope spun off across the deck, coming to rest near the railing. One good gust of wind would consign it to a watery oblivion.

“NO!” Mueller screamed.

With a suddenness of a jungle cat, Hedeon made his move, bringing his ham-like fist smashing down onto Mueller’s arm. The German cried out and let go of the gun, which clattered to the deck.