Cold Lonely Courage (Madeleine toche Series Book 2) by Soren Petrek Page A

seconds reached the top and carefully lowered her body onto the tile. Her heart was pounding, not from the exertion of the climb but from adrenaline. Relax, she told herself. She breathed slowly and evenly until she felt her limbs lose their rigidity, and calmness seeped out from her core. She inched her way over the tile roof, moving silently with acrobatic grace. She kept her weight evenly distributed and tested each pressure point. She made no sound and moved towards the front window. She carefully lowered herself over the edge, finding a foothold on the window ledge as she focused her hearing into the room, ignoring any collateral noise. Eventually, she heard it: the even breathing of sleep. Little by little, she folded herself into the room and moved silently towards the bed. Madeleine took notice of Hartmann’s body position and approached from his blind side, pulling a straight razor from a pocket sewn into the side of her jersey. She opened it and placed it against his neck.
    “Bonjour, mon ami ,” Madeleine said in conversational tone.
    “I am glad you’re my friend, Madeleine,” he answered after a brief pause. He had been asleep and unaware of her entrance. “I have so few.”
    Madeleine pulled the razor away and returned it to her pocket as he sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed.
    “I was wondering when you’d get around to losing me,” he said as he turned on a small lamp.
    “To be honest, it was my first opportunity to ditch you. This was the first time I recognized your disguise.”
    “What was my mistake?” he said.
    “You were the dustman from the first day.”
    “My God, how stupid of me,” he said, shaking his head, an honest smile crossing his features. “Well, Madeleine, that was your last test. Are you ready to go to work?”
    “Do you think I’m ready?”
    “You’ve been ready since the day I met you. You remember, I told you the difference between acting without hesitation and using skills. We’ve been working on skills. You’ve shown many times your inherent ability to act. You’re ready.”
    “Will my instructions come from you?”
    “No, only from the SOE. They’ll go over that with you. I’m sure I’ll be able to keep track of your progress. Like all people who do this work, you’ll have a signature. At first only I’ll know it. But in time, others will as well. I trained you, so it makes sense that I’ll recognize it first. Besides, I have work to do back in Germany, fighting the Nazis at home.”
    “Is there anything else I need to know?”
    “Don’t trust anyone. Governments like assassins until they don’t need them anymore. Then they send someone, usually a person you trust, to eliminate what they think might be a security risk. I warned them not to come after either of us. I’m your insurance policy. I told them that if you survive the war and they excise you out of some sense of necessity, I’ll kill everyone I know to be associated with this project.”
    “Have you made that commitment for others in the past?” Madeleine asked, surprised.
    “There aren’t any others.”
    “Then why do it for me?”
    “You were recruited because you’ve already killed. I don’t have anyone. My family is dead. I have no friends. The Jews I fought with in the Great War spilled their blood as willingly as the next man. They’re gone now, who knows where. My wife and daughters disappeared when I was away. When they needed me most, I was gone. We should have left Germany a long time ago, but my stupid pride cost them their lives. I don’t know where they’ve been taken, and it’s my fault.”
    As he spoke, a flood of pain filled his eyes. Madeleine reached out and embraced him. She felt his veneer of hate and death slide away for the briefest of moments.
    “I’ll kill as many as I can,” Madeleine said.
    Hartmann smiled and shook his head, coming back from the private hell he held in his heart.
    “Then we’re done. Be careful. Don’t trust any