War Girls Complete Collection Chapter 241

Chapter 19

R

ichard kept a steady pace, his legs doing the now familiar work like an automaton. Most of his bruises and wounds had healed, but he didn’t have any illusions about what would be inflicted upon him should he ever have to experience the hospitality of the Czechs.

The ruse of being former slave workers was flimsy at best, and he decided it was best not to test its credibility.

“There’s a checkpoint up ahead,” Katrina warned him and he brought the bicycle to a screeching halt. To both sides of the road lay flat lands as far as the eye reached. There was no way they could sidestep the checkpoint.

“We’ll have to take our chances,” he said sullenly.

“This was bound to happen,” Katrina replied. “We stick to our story of being Polish slave workers on our way home. The Soviets won’t pick up your accent.”

Fatalism spread across Richard’s body and he said, “Alright then.”

He pedaled the several hundred yards up to the roadblock and then came to a halt in front of two heavily armed Soviet soldiers.

“Stop! Papers,” one of the soldiers demanded, while the other one pointed his rifle at them.

It had been a while since Richard had last stared into the muzzle of a Mosin Nagant, and back then he’d held his own weapon in hand. It was an entirely different feeling now. And he didn’t like it one bit.

He held the bicycle while Katrina carefully slid down, talking in Russian to the soldier and producing her paperwork from their bag. The man perused her identification with a quick glance and then asked, “You’re Polish?”

“Yes.”

Richard climbed from the saddle and leaned the bicycle against the roadblock before he approached the soldier.

“Papers!” the soldier demanded, nodding at Richard.

Richard used the few Russian words he knew, “No papers. Stolen.”

The soldier’s brows shot up and his eyes took on a suspicious glint. “No papers?”

“No, ser…” Richard caught himself in the last moment before he pronounced the military rank and instead said, switching to Polish, “…sir. I was robbed near Prague and my papers stolen.”

The sergeant became frustrated with the mutual lack of language skills and gazed at Katrina. “You! Translate!”

She dutifully did so, but the Russian didn’t buy into the story. “Your friend was robbed, they stole his papers but left the bike?”

“No, the bicycle belongs to her,” Richard said, glad for the delay in communication caused by Katrina having to translate everything. It gave him time to think about a believable cover story.

“You were robbed, but she wasn’t? How’s that possible?” the soldier asked in disbelief.

“We got separated when crossing the Moldavia in Prague and only caught up to each other the next day. Thankfully she had the bicycle and one of our bags, because the thieves left me with nothing but the clothes I’m wearing.”

“Where are the two of you headed?”

“Home to Poland,” Katrina lied so effortlessly; Richard had to admire her guts.

The muzzle of the Mosin-Nagant pointed slightly downwards, but the second soldier still had his full attention on them.

“And where do you come from?” their interrogator asked.

Again, it was Katrina who gave the answer. “We were abducted by the Nazis and had to work for them in a factory near Munich.”

Richard had difficulties keeping a straight face. Where on earth had she learned to lie with such grace?

“Damn Nazi swine,” the Russian said, spitting at the ground.

Even without Katrina’s translation Richard understood and nodded. “Yes. Nazi swine.”

A short glance of understanding crossed between the men and Richard physically felt the tension easing off. Moments later, the soldier lifted the rifle.

Katrina gave the two soldiers a sheepish look. “We just want to get home to our families.”

“I get it. Everyone wants the same thing. Find out about their loved ones.” The sergeant had a nostalgic look in his eyes, as he was probably thinking about his own family.

“Now, you do know you are turned around?” the other soldier said.

“What?” Richard feigned innocence. He made a show of turning around, looking at the mountains in the distance and then turning back to the soldier with a puzzled look on his face. “We’re going the wrong direction?”

“Yes. Poland is that way.” The soldier pointed off to where they had come from.

“I told you we took a wrong turn,” Katrina said and bestowed a smile upon the Russians. “Everything was so chaotic and we fled, grateful to get out of the melee with our lives.”

The soldier still watched Richard carefully. Finally, he beckoned them to come with him to the top of the little hill the road was on. He pointed up to the right saying, “You could return to Prague or take the shortcut up here. There’s a fork in the road further down. Take the left and it’ll lead you round that hill and back east.”

“Thank you so much,” Katrina said after the Russian told them they were free to go.

They hurried back to where they’d left the bicycle at the checkpoint, just to see it being wheeled away by two Czech partisans. The thugs had the audacity to wave at them before they mounted the vehicle.

Richard yearned to go after them, but one glance at the grinning faces of the Russian soldiers told him that causing any sort of ruckus wouldn’t be a good idea. Gritting his teeth, he grabbed Katrina’s hand and pulled her down the road in the direction of Pilsen.

Seventy more miles on a bicycle hadn’t seemed so bad, but walking the entire distance was a whole different story. Anger and disappointment took hold of every cell in his body, making breathing difficult and clouding his mind. He fumed under his seemingly calm exterior, but as always Katrina picked up on his mood and said, “It doesn’t help to get angry now. There’s nothing we can do.”

“They stole it right under our noses, with the Ivan watching… and laughing.” He wished he could turn around, find the thieves and give them a good beating. But alas, that wasn’t going to happen.

“It served us well for the biggest part of the journey. I’m sure we can walk the rest on foot. We’ve walked farther than that in Poland.” Katrina grimaced.

“Yes, but…” There were a million buts, but one glance at her resolute expression made him shut down. It was best not to waste his breath on things he couldn’t change.

“We’re still alive and they believed our ruse,” Katrina said, gazing at him. “And it does make for a nice change, not having to perch on the crossbar.”

He chuckled, overwhelmed by her resolve to see the silver lining and took her hand. “Care to take a walk with me, beautiful lady?”

“Why, I’d love to,” she giggled, the silliness a way to relieve the tension the meeting with the Russian soldiers had caused in both of them.

He pressed a kiss on her lips. “I love you, Katrina Zdanek. Thank you for putting up with me. With you by my side I’ll go up against everything and anyone.”

“I love you, too.”