Read Online Crack of Doom by Willi Heinrich - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Willi Heinrich
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shoulder. "Do you still love me?"
"And howl"
"Show it."
"Let me eat first."
"No, show me straight away." She bit his ear.
"You little bitch. Let me alone, or. . . ."
"Or what?" He did not answer, and she took a step back. "Nikolash!"
"Yes."
"Look this way." He turned around and saw that her nightgown was on the floor. "Am I beautiful?" she asked.
"Your legs are."
"Nothing else?"
"Your breasts are."
"You've got another woman," she said angrily.
He wiped his greasy fingers on his trousers and laughed. "Any objections?"
She ran toward him. "If you've got another woman, I’ll kill you."
"You will?" He put his huge hands round her throat. "One squeeze, and you're dead."
"Let me go."
"You see!"
He sat down and she climbed back onto his lap and said: "It occurred to me this afternoon, you've never told me why you aren't married."
"Women marry, men love. Like this." She groaned beneath his hands. "Nikolash. . . ." He carried her over into her room and threw her on to the bed.
Afterward Nikolash returned to his room, took a half-filled bottle out of the wardrobe, put it to his mouth, and drained it. Then he stared pensively at the ceiling. He had a lot to think about. Moving the organization wasn't going to be easy, he told himself, and he had to decide which of the men to take with him. Krasko's men were out. They were to blow up the German HQ tonight. That was the last job they were to get from Nikolash, though they didn't know it yet. Even old Orid Krasko didn't know. He couldn't take more than a few men from Kosice, because the Germans had a field Gestapo at Dobsina and a lot of new faces there would attract attention. Besides, Orid Krasko might well have a foot in both camps, he used to sympathize with the Germans—even had his daughter running round with a German soldier.
As for Andrej and his men—Nikolash bit his lip in annoyance. He rose and went to the window. A fierce wind had blown up and shook the bare trees. You couldn't have wished for better weather, he thought; again Andrej had been dead right. He had never known anyone better fitted for leading a section of partisans. ... If only they weren't at loggerheads all the time. From the first day he had talked to Andrej on confidential terms and in his own strange way felt something like friendship for him. But these feelings were not reciprocated, nor could he win over Andrej to his ideological views. Nikolash found himself rather in the position of a rejected lover, and with his easily offended vanity could never forgive this humiliation. He had begun to hate Andrej.
Nikolash wondered if he might persuade Margita to come to Dobsina without Andrej. After all, he was convinced she loved him. The war might still go on for a long time and he meant to keep her with him as long as he could . . .
Nikolash looked out the window and suddenly saw the lights of the trucks.
They moved slowly into the village, and a moment later the streets were swarming with German soldiers. They're coming for Andrej, Nikolash thought, and just for a moment this gave him satisfaction; then he realized the danger he himself was in. He rushed into Margita's room and over to her bed, felt for her head in the dark and pulled her up by her hair.
She whimpered, then started hitting out at him. "Stop that!" he told her; "the Germans are here." At once she became wide awake. He jumped out of Margita's room into the garden, and still in his bare feet raced to the front, where there was a garden shed; above it was old Jozef Zarnov's room. Nikolash levered himself on to a beam, walked precariously along it and knocked at the window, through which he could see Jozef sitting by the stove. The old man got up and came hesitantly toward the window. When he saw Nikolash's face, he shrank back. Without letting him speak, Nikolash pushed him roughly aside, and with an eloquent gesture toward his throat said: "Don't you breathe a word about me, or else. . . ." He fancied he could hear voices
"And howl"
"Show it."
"Let me eat first."
"No, show me straight away." She bit his ear.
"You little bitch. Let me alone, or. . . ."
"Or what?" He did not answer, and she took a step back. "Nikolash!"
"Yes."
"Look this way." He turned around and saw that her nightgown was on the floor. "Am I beautiful?" she asked.
"Your legs are."
"Nothing else?"
"Your breasts are."
"You've got another woman," she said angrily.
He wiped his greasy fingers on his trousers and laughed. "Any objections?"
She ran toward him. "If you've got another woman, I’ll kill you."
"You will?" He put his huge hands round her throat. "One squeeze, and you're dead."
"Let me go."
"You see!"
He sat down and she climbed back onto his lap and said: "It occurred to me this afternoon, you've never told me why you aren't married."
"Women marry, men love. Like this." She groaned beneath his hands. "Nikolash. . . ." He carried her over into her room and threw her on to the bed.
Afterward Nikolash returned to his room, took a half-filled bottle out of the wardrobe, put it to his mouth, and drained it. Then he stared pensively at the ceiling. He had a lot to think about. Moving the organization wasn't going to be easy, he told himself, and he had to decide which of the men to take with him. Krasko's men were out. They were to blow up the German HQ tonight. That was the last job they were to get from Nikolash, though they didn't know it yet. Even old Orid Krasko didn't know. He couldn't take more than a few men from Kosice, because the Germans had a field Gestapo at Dobsina and a lot of new faces there would attract attention. Besides, Orid Krasko might well have a foot in both camps, he used to sympathize with the Germans—even had his daughter running round with a German soldier.
As for Andrej and his men—Nikolash bit his lip in annoyance. He rose and went to the window. A fierce wind had blown up and shook the bare trees. You couldn't have wished for better weather, he thought; again Andrej had been dead right. He had never known anyone better fitted for leading a section of partisans. ... If only they weren't at loggerheads all the time. From the first day he had talked to Andrej on confidential terms and in his own strange way felt something like friendship for him. But these feelings were not reciprocated, nor could he win over Andrej to his ideological views. Nikolash found himself rather in the position of a rejected lover, and with his easily offended vanity could never forgive this humiliation. He had begun to hate Andrej.
Nikolash wondered if he might persuade Margita to come to Dobsina without Andrej. After all, he was convinced she loved him. The war might still go on for a long time and he meant to keep her with him as long as he could . . .
Nikolash looked out the window and suddenly saw the lights of the trucks.
They moved slowly into the village, and a moment later the streets were swarming with German soldiers. They're coming for Andrej, Nikolash thought, and just for a moment this gave him satisfaction; then he realized the danger he himself was in. He rushed into Margita's room and over to her bed, felt for her head in the dark and pulled her up by her hair.
She whimpered, then started hitting out at him. "Stop that!" he told her; "the Germans are here." At once she became wide awake. He jumped out of Margita's room into the garden, and still in his bare feet raced to the front, where there was a garden shed; above it was old Jozef Zarnov's room. Nikolash levered himself on to a beam, walked precariously along it and knocked at the window, through which he could see Jozef sitting by the stove. The old man got up and came hesitantly toward the window. When he saw Nikolash's face, he shrank back. Without letting him speak, Nikolash pushed him roughly aside, and with an eloquent gesture toward his throat said: "Don't you breathe a word about me, or else. . . ." He fancied he could hear voices
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