[With] her nerves on edge, Jan gave herself a pep talk. She emerged on Berliner place and realized that shortly she would be on Ringbahn, a major thoroughfare that circled the city.  If there was traffic anywhere in the metropolis at this time of morning it would be on that street. She turned right on Brieger and managed to locate the target house from the backside.  This was not in the plans, but sometimes plans had to be adjusted.  She had learned that unsubtly during failed attempts in training.  Jan skirted the house through a densely-treed side yard, her senses sifting for anything unusual.  When her nose sensed nothing out of the ordinary and her eyes corroborated the fact, she walked directly toward the house where the documents awaited.

As anticipated, it was deserted.  It was plain to see why from the rear.  A bomb had hit the back of the residence at some point, caving in a large portion of the roof and sidewalls.  A poorly done job of securing the structure made it easy for her to simply lift one corner of patchwork boarding and crawl inside.  A dank mustiness greeted her sense of smell when she paused to allow her eyes to adjust. 

From a written description, she knew the interior of the home in intimate detail; having memorized the floor plan provided by the spy who had hidden the files here.  Judging by what she was here to obtain, he was obviously highly enough placed to secure extremely sensitive materials.  A fact she had spent much time thinking on. 

Staircase toward the rear of the house . . . sixth stair. . . lift it. . . take the pry bar inside. Continue up the stairs until you begin to descend the front staircase. . . count seven stairs from the top, pry the third board in the stair up. . .  Jan scarcely believed that she finally held the dull jade folder in her hands.  There was no time to celebrate however; she had not managed to escape the country yet.

Without warning her senses electrified. She backed down the staircase noiselessly.  Movement. . . outside.  Something had disturbed the grass.  Dilated fully, her pupils had little trouble seeing the outline of several figures as they approached the house stealthily.  Swearing involuntarily, she scanned the room.  In a moment whoever was outside would have her and the documents if she didn’t move now. A plan crystallized in her mind when she thought she saw the perfect hiding place.  The only problem was that a thick layer of dust covered the floor.  It would be easy for someone to trace her steps.  Think Jan!  Looking up, she had it.  From the top of the stairs a shallow dividing wall ran across the room toward the far wall.

Frantically she made her way back up the staircase and climbed over the short railing.  Bending at the waist, she twisted her frame and reached out with both hands.  Luck was on her side; the divider’s backside had the same thickly molded, wood ridge as the front.  Placing the folder between her feet, she dug her fingers in and

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lowered her legs.  This is going to be difficult, she thought as she let her arms take her full weight.

Several difficult movements later, her fingers aching already, she was only halfway across and began to panic.  A diversion she had used to calm her fears as she rode the train into Berlin raced into her mind. She began to play a game with herself by forcing into her consciousness thoughts of what she would do when she made it back to London. 

It was not any less painful, but the mental game distracted her at least, and before she realized it she was staring pointblank at the surface of the wall.  Her body was beginning to cramp, she had to hurry.  Raising her legs slowly, she discovered that they were shaking uncontrollably.  Focusing, she guided the dossier toward the crack in the wall knowing that there was only strength for one attempt.  With the muscles in her stomach clenched painfully, Jan steered the folder into the fissure and spread her feet.  She rejoiced when she heard the sound of it falling to the floor inside the wall.

Sweat beaded on her forehead as she began the torturous backwards motion toward the staircase.  There was a feeling of wanting to cry her hands hurt so badly, for a moment, she thought of abandoning the effort and dropping to the floor and then in horror realized that even thinking of failure was not an option.  People were dying because of the information in that file…it had to get back to London, if not with her then with the next agent.  She had to make it and give them that chance. 

A tortuous moment later, one heel struck the wall behind her and she painfully let go of her grip and seized the rail with stiff fingers.  Thankful, she stole a glance at the floor to insure her efforts had worked.  Remarkably there was no trace of any disturbance below in the thick dust.  Stepping over the rail, she was back up the staircase and down the other side in an instant.  Jan slipped out the way she had entered and ran.

Past Brieger at a gallop, the fleeing specter made her way another block until she hit Wohlauer and made a left.  She crossed Westfal onto Eisenxahn and continued in a straight line.  In her panicked yet still nimble mind, she wanted distance between her and her pursuers, if she could get to a place and think, maybe she could come up with a plan.  She heard the sounds of engines racing all around her and knew that the Germans were maneuvering to encircle her.  A light flashed to her left and she dove into a hedge.  Dogs.  She could hear their raspy breathing…they were close.  She moved at a crouch through the yard of a home.  Her bearings were twisted but she did not concern herself with anything but time and covering ground. 

Footsteps…a gun cut loose and bullets swept past her.  Did they want her dead?  The answer came quickly as she fell into a depression.  A voice berated a soldier for firing his weapon.