But this boat was headed south, not north. Isa wasn’t at all sure Henri had taken her to the right place.
“Henri,” she said at the gangplank, “this can’t be right. It’s headed the wrong way. The North Sea is north.”
Henri shook his head, pushing her forward but not stepping onto the plank.
She grabbed his arm, pulling him closer. “Aren’t you coming?”
He shook his head again.
“But, Henri—”
Someone from inside the boat called out, “Get aboard!”
The voice, though quiet, held unmistakable anger. Henri pushed her again.
“I’ll go,” she said. “But, Henri . . . thank you. Thank you for everything you did to help me.” She hugged him close, enveloped in warmth as his massive arms circled her. “I’ll see you again. When this is over.”
She might have said more, but the voice from the boat called again and Henri gently nudged her forward.
The boat looked empty. It was an old, sturdy tugboat with a tall smokestack shooting up into the dark sky. She climbed the gangplank quickly because it had no grab rails and she knew any pause would bring fear. Once aboard, she looked for the owner of the voice but saw no one.
“Go below.”
She looked up. The voice had come from the bridge.
Isa glanced back ashore, but Henri had already disappeared. Confused longing ran through her. The city was behind them, the Brussels she knew and loved. She couldn’t go back, perhaps not ever. And yet what lay ahead?
She found the portal leading below. Halfway down, she stopped. The entire belly of the tug was crowded with people all pushed together, mostly men, no doubt escaping the deportations or hoping to join the Allies. There was barely enough room for her, let alone Edward when he came.
Because surely he would.
“Isa! Oh, Isa!”
It was Genny, nestled in the furthermost corner.
Isa scrambled over limbs and feet, past smells and sounds, falling into Genny’s open arms. Pulling apart proved difficult. They wedged together into the single spot Genny had vacated.
“Where is Edward?”
“He’s coming.” She told herself to believe her own words, otherwise she was sure both of them would scurry ashore. “We were separated from the Major, and Edward went for him.”
“Max!”
“Yes, of course. Without the Major, I don’t think—”
Genny trembled so fiercely Isa quivered with her, squashed together as they were.
“Are you saying Max has been with Edward? that he helped plan this escape?”
“He must have! The Major came to see me in prison, and Edward told me he was planning something. He didn’t tell me who was involved, but it was the Major himself who came for me in my cell this morning.”
“I . . . didn’t know. I thought Max was in Germany.” She looked at Isa, who saw both fear and fervor in her eyes. “And he’s coming with us? over the border?”
“I—I think so. Why wouldn’t he? How could he stay after helping me? He’ll be arrested!”
Suddenly the engine roared to a start.
Isa’s heart crashed against her breast. “We can’t be going—not yet!”
“We should have left ten minutes ago.” The voice came from one of the men on the other side of the ladder.
“That’s right,” another said. “We must get past the Brussels checkpoint before the sun is up or we’ll be like ducks at the carnival, ready to be picked off.”
“But there’s someone else coming,” Isa insisted. “We can’t leave him behind!”
“And risk the rest of us? I don’t think so, mademoiselle.”
Isa struggled to her feet. Yet she didn’t make it far. The two men closest to her shifted just enough to block the way.
Isa sank to the floor, sending an anxious glance to Genny. Oh, Lord, deliver them now! Hurry them to us!
Then the tug started to move.
43
Our resolve against the enemy must not melt in the German furnace. Be strong as we await our day of liberation!
La Libre Beligique
* * *
Every muscle in his arms, legs, and back threatened collapse, but Edward didn’t give in. The Major moved nearly as fast as he, his body strong. Once they found a similar stride, they moved with surprising speed—fast enough to win any Sunday school three-legged race.
They stayed along the river’s edge, which was blessedly deserted at such an early hour. It couldn’t be much farther.
Then he saw the outline of the tug in the middle of the river. Heading, as expected, southward and away from the dock to reduce attention. Boats headed north—toward the border—were more likely to be subject to unexpected searches. So at least until they were well away