It’s somewhat shocking that a man so evil would spare her the details. I suppose the alternative would mean subjecting his wife to a less pleasant child. “And…you think his wife wants to keep her?”

Arie blurts out, “Who cares what she wants?” At my outward startle, his expression, suddenly tight, tapers.

No need to continue the topic.

I give him a moment before detouring to issues still murky. “Back at MI9, when they told me about the raid, they said someone was killed.”

“What?” He squints at that, his eyes increasingly glossy. “No. All but one got away. Ziegler’s henchmen nabbed the gal. But she’s alive.”

I stiffen from surprise. I want to trust him, but the discrepancy deserves scrutiny. “You know that for sure?”

“She was my primary contact.” It’s as if that alone should suffice, before he adds, “We’d met once about details to set up the big meeting. On the day of, when I found Evelien gone, I hauled off to the meeting spot. I knew it was risky, but to keep the girl safe, I had to salvage the ruse with Ziegler. Like I said, I was still thinking the leaders got the message and wouldn’t show. So here I am, ready to try and convince him that the schedule got switched a second time, honestly doubting he’d believe me. Instead, I get there and learn the group was actually raided just minutes earlier.”

It’s a relief, at least, to hear they all survived. A small miracle really. “And where is the woman now? Your contact.”

Lips parting, he pauses and changes course. “I think you’ve heard all you need to.”

“You’re wrong,” I reply, not to be obstinate. “This is what HQ will be asking us both. And if you’re aware of which prison she’s in, maybe they’ll coordinate with contacts here to help break her out.”

He glances around as if growing restless, eager to end this. If by not sharing, he’s trying to protect me, it’s too late for that. Perhaps recognizing this, he concedes, “She’s at a hospital. The one you followed me to.”

“A hospital?”

“She was shot in the shoulder, took some baton hits to the head. Gestapo are waiting for her to recuperate.”

The last bit seems odd after what I witnessed in the field. “But why would they bother, assuming they’re just going to torture her, or worse?” It’s a grim question, legitimate nonetheless.

He expels a breath, as if perturbed by a gnat he can’t shoo away. “I told Ziegler she has intel too vital to miss. And that only I can coax it from her. It’s given me time to work on a plan to spring her out.”

Much more of the puzzle is fitting together, including his walk tonight to a guarded destination. “Does she know the truth? About Ziegler and the rest?”