The suggestion is enough to turn me around. “That isn’t true.” I’m assertive despite the nuanced truth; the rightful core is what brought me here. “As I said—and you’ve heard—intelligence has been compromised. People have been getting the wrong information. But I know him. Personally. And his intentions are only good. He came to this country, risking his life, to help those who desperately need it.”

Willem’s expression gives away nothing. At his silence, I switch to the practicality of my mission. “My orders,” I state, “are to assist in getting him home, and that’s what I’m going to do—either with or without your help. Thereafter, any questions about his assignments will be sorted out with London.”

I remain unflinching as Willem studies me, his lips a firm line.

At last he says, “There is a forger. However, like many, this person is growing scared.”

My first instinct is to sway Willem with phrases of reassurance. But in honoring Arie’s family, as well as any others involved, I reply candidly. “They have every reason to be.”

He scratches the back of his neck, deliberating. Just as before, when he offered protection both through actions and words, there’s a sense of him caring. For even a virtual stranger. “How soon is your need?”

My embarrassment has ebbed, making way for a margin of hope. “I’m aware it’s not much time—”

“When?”

“Saturday.”

“In two days?” He snorts a laugh, for which I genuinely can’t fault him. “They will need different documents and identification for every country. The Dutch papers alone are more difficult to copy than the Germans’.”

“I know it’s a lot to ask. But, Willem,” I say, “the other person is just a child, and she absolutely must get out.”

He reflects on the insight pensively, its implication evident.

I think to add, “Even by dawn on Sunday could work.” The more time for him, the better, obviously. And if it results in acquiring the papers, a small delay in fleeing would be worth the risk.

Glancing upward, he sighs as if annoyed with the ceiling. I figure the irritation is actually with me until he responds, “All right.” And I realize it’s most likely with himself.

I strive to contain my hopes as we discuss particulars. We start with the forger’s access to photos of others who could potentially pass for Arie, our best bet with limited time. As Willem is already familiar with Arie’s physical traits, I need only to provide my knowledge of Evelien’s description.

After which, he tells me, “For children of her age, even crossing borders, a birth certificate will be enough, I think. But having also a baptism document might be better.”

“Please, then, whatever is safer.”

“The forger will know this. As I said, I am a messenger only.”

I smile at that, as he’s obviously extending beyond his usual duties.