They Bled Orange (Orphans of War Book 2)

CONTENTS I. Part One: Amsterdam, July 1943 Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 II. Part Two: London, August 1943 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 III. Part Three: Somewhere near the eastern front, September 1943 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Chapter 33 Chapter 34 Author’s Notes About the Author Also by Michael Reit CHAPTER ONE Nora hardly recognized the figure hunched on the bed. Drawing ragged breaths, Floris Brouwer lowered his eyes as she closed the door of the musty cell. A single light bulb hung off-center, occasionally flickering. Nora shivered as she took a step closer. “Hey, it’s me.” She spoke in a low voice and set down a plate with crusty bread, a sliver of margarine, and a cup of weak tea. “You should eat something.” The man on the bed’s composure changed, and he looked up. Floris silently acknowledged her with bloodshot, tired eyes. He swung his legs out of bed, his bare feet touching down on the cold concrete floor, took two steps, and greedily lunged for the hunk of bread. Nora sat and watched her husband chew furiously while she rubbed her thighs and inhaled deeply from the opposite bed. Four months of captivity in this Amsterdam basement had reduced the strong, healthy Nazi police officer to a pitiful heap of a human. His face was gaunt, making him look ten years older than the twenty-seven he was. His ragged clothes were dirty and hung loosely around his thin frame. Nora shook her head. He brought this on himself. But has the punishment fit the crime? Floris took a large gulp of tea before setting the cup down with a clang. He wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve and turned to Nora. “Why are you here? I haven’t seen you in weeks.” His voice was raspy, like that of someone who’d spent a lifetime smoking. “Have you come to gloat at my situation?” He spread his arms, shirtsleeves flapping. “Well, this is it, Nora. You’ve got me caged like an animal.” Nora frowned and shook her head. “It’s not like that, Floris. I’m here to bring you news.” She swallowed hard and forced herself to meet his cold eyes. She steeled herself, opened her mouth, but he spoke before she could. “What could you possibly tell me that would change my situation? News about more victories of your resistance?” He scoffed. “Please, I get enough of that from those idiots you have guarding me. They seem to have no purpose in their lives but to fill my head with their incessant babbling and lies.” Nora narrowed her eyes as Floris sat next to her. “But sure, Nora, tell me your news.” “You don’t get it, do you, Flo?” He grimaced at her use of his nickname. “Four months down here, and you haven’t changed a bit. More and more people are fed up with the occupation. They’re done seeing their neighbors hauled off to God knows where on made-up charges, losing their jobs and going hungry.” She paused for a moment, meeting her husband’s eyes in the vain hope that she would find something resembling understanding. Instead, the resentment had only grown, his eyes reduced to thin slits glowering in the semidarkness. “But most of all, they’re done with people turning their backs on their country. People who will turn in their neighbors for a few Guilders or Reichmarks. People who help Nazis. People like you, Floris.” Her voice trembled, and she cleared her throat. “You’re a policeman. You’re supposed to protect us from criminals. Instead, you’ve become one.” Floris didn’t immediately respond. The buzzing of the light above their heads seemed to grow more intense in the silence of the cramped room. Floris began wringing his hands before he stood, took a step, and towered over her. “Criminal? That’s rich coming from you!” He jabbed his finger at her face, a vein on his forehead throbbing as he raised his voice. “I’ve listened to the wild stories of your guards.” He thrust his thumb up at the ceiling. “They’re rather proud of their acts of sabotage. Those Jews you insist on hiding will betray you at some point. Just you wait, Nora.” Nora opened her mouth but struggled to respond. She had never felt more detached from him; those four months had changed her husband. “You’ve gone completely delusional,” she whispered. He didn’t react. “I’m not keeping a police officer locked in a cell. You realize once this place is found, and it will be, you and everybody involved here will be punished?” Floris sat down on the bed again, eyeing her challengingly, his chest heaving. Nora stood and straightened her back. She clasped her hands together and looked down at Floris. “You know why I really came down here? I wanted to see if you’d come to your senses. When I leave this room, it will be the last time you see me.” He raised his eyebrows, and Nora continued at pace. “I hoped I could go back up there and tell them they’re making a mistake. That you’re not the evil Nazi, that there is still a trace of the man I fell in love with.” She looked him in the eyes and saw confusion. She wavered for a moment as she felt her stomach churn. “That there was another option.” “Another option?” “You’re going to die. Tomorrow morning.” Floris stared at the wall opposite, processing her words. Nora stood silently near the door, confident the guard on the other side would open it well before Floris could do anything. But as she looked at him, the idea of him assaulting her seemed distant at best. The news had floored him, his