The Katyn Order by Douglas W. Jacobson Read Free Book Online Page A

woman shrieked wildly, the SS officer’s blood dripping from her face and bare chest. She stared at Adam in horror. Then she scrambled off the sofa and ran to the bedroom, slamming the door behind her.
    Adam turned to leave but stopped at the shattered door leading to the hallway. He stood there for a moment. Then he cursed under his breath, marched over to the bedroom door and kicked it open.
    The woman cowered on the floor at the foot of the bed with black, mascara-streaked tears running down her cheeks. “Please, I didn’t tell him anything,” she sobbed, pulling the blood-spattered nightgown over her ample breasts. “Nothing he didn’t already know. He
forced
me to do it. He was a pig! I had no choice!”
    Adam raised the Walther and fired a single shot through her forehead before he had a chance to think about it a second time. Then he holstered the gun and walked out of the room.

Six
    19 A UGUST
    T HE MORNING WAS HOT and windless, and the smoky haze that hung in the air made it difficult to see much beyond a hundred meters. But from his perch in one of the copper-clad twin towers of Holy Cross Church, Adam had a good view of Avenue Krakowskie. Farther down the avenue, beyond the AK barricade, a German bunker and machine-gun nest guarded the white stone walls and wrought-iron gates at the entrance to Warsaw University. Beyond the gates several hundred German soldiers patrolled the tree-lined pathways of the university grounds. The bodies of five Waffen-SS troopers and a handful of Ukrainian conscripts lay in the street between the university and the barricade.
    The shelling had intensified during the night as German Panzer units attacked with greater fury since the discovery of Heisenberg’s body. But the barricades protecting Old Town had held . . . at least for now.
    Adam knew it had been a risk. Assassinations led to reprisals. But it wasn’t something to be concerned about now. He’d followed his orders and it was done. Heisenberg was a murderous butcher who deserved to die, along with his collaborator girlfriend. But that didn’t matter, either. Emotion played no part in it. The man was a target, and he had taken him out. It was that simple, just the way it had been ever since the British dropped him back into Poland. Identify the target and take it out.
    It was close to noon when Adam heard someone climbing the staircase leading up to the tower where he’d been positioned since daybreak. Though the church was behind the barricades, in territory still held by the AK, Adam tensed and moved to a corner where he had a clear view of the top of the staircase.
    â€œCaptain Wolf, it’s Rabbit,” a young voice called from halfway up the stairs. “I have a message.”
    Adam relaxed. Though he had no official rank in the quasi-military organization of the AK, Rabbit always called him “captain.”
    â€œCome on up,” he called back. “I promise not to shoot you.”
    The skinny lad’s blond head poked up through the opening, a broad smile on his face. He was one of the good ones, Adam thought, tough enough to be trusted and streetwise beyond his years, yet young enough not to worry about the inevitable consequences.
    â€œI have a message from Colonel Stag,” Rabbit said. “You’re to report to his headquarters immediately.”
    Adam flicked on the safety of his American-made Springfield A4 sniper rifle and slung it over his shoulder.
    â€œWhen are you gonna teach me how to shoot that rifle,” Rabbit asked a few minutes later as they walked through the barricaded streets of Old Town, shells bursting in the distance and thick, black smoke drifting in from the western districts of the city.
    Adam laughed. “How old are you?”
    â€œThirteen,” Rabbit said, straightening up and throwing his shoulders back.
    â€œThis thing would knock you right on your ass.”
    â€œThe hell it would. I’m a lot