“To be honest with you, I don't think you should.” Listening to him, neither did she. He told her she had two days to decide.

She didn't want to go, but for the next two days she couldn't sleep. All she could think of were the faces she had known and seen in Theresienstadt. She wondered how many of them were still alive. Her mother and sister in Ravensbrück. Her mother's family in Dachau. If no one did these missions, they would be there forever, and all the Jews in Germany and the other occupied countries would eventually die. She remembered something that one of the inmates of Theresienstadt had said to her, an old man who had died the month before she left. He had said, “Whoever saves one life, saves a world entire.” It was from the Talmud, and she had never forgotten it. How could she turn her back on them now, when she had a chance to make a difference, even if it meant being deported again? It was the last thing she wanted. But this was her chance to fight for them. What other choice did she have? She asked herself what choice Christ had had when faced with the cross.

Amadea radioed Serge that night. The message was only “Yes. Teresa.” She knew he would understand, and pass the message on to the colonel. She got her instructions the next day. He was flying in to the east of her this time. And she had to travel to meet the cell there. They would give her papers, and whatever clothes she needed. It was winter, and they wouldn't be having an “anniversary weekend” in Paris at the Crillon. She didn't need anything as fancy, just substantial.

She left in the dark of night and reached Nancy by morning. Colonel Montgomery had landed in a field that night. This time he had been parachuted in. They were expected to be in Germany for five days. When he saw her, he broke into a broad smile.

“Well, Sister, how have you been?”

“Fine, thank you, Colonel. It's good to see you again.” Their greeting was respectful and friendly. It was like meeting an old friend.

He was impressed that she had agreed to take on this mission, knowing full well how dangerous it was for her. He had felt guilty asking her, but the truth was, he needed her, and so did England. He was glad she was coming with him.

They got their papers, and he instructed her that night. They sat talking until daylight. It was complicated this time. He needed her help in culling information, and taking photographs for him. He gave her a tiny camera for that purpose, to conceal in a pocket of her handbag. He was wearing his SS uniform again, and they were taking the train into Germany that morning. As they had before, he spoke to her in German, so they would make no mistake while on their mission. German had to be their language of choice and habit with each other, just as it had been in Paris. And once again, she found she was happy speaking it to him. But they both knew that this mission would be even more delicate than the first one.

They both looked tired and pale when they boarded the train, as everyone did that winter. But they chatted good-humoredly as the train left the station, and after a while she fell asleep with her head on his shoulder. She was genuinely exhausted. He read while she slept, and when she awoke, she looked better. They were going to Salzal Thüringen, and staying at a hotel where officers and their wives were billeted. It was nothing to compare to the Crillon. And when they checked in, their room was pleasant. The desk clerk apologized that there were two narrow beds in the room instead of one big one. They were full up with wives visiting their husbands before Christmas. Rupert told them it was no problem, it wasn't their honeymoon, and all three of them laughed. He could see as they walked into the room that Amadea was relieved. And this time the agents in the cell that had outfitted them had provided her with a warm flannel nightgown. This trip was far less romantic, and infinitely more dangerous. Rupert was impersonating an SS officer who did not exist. His name and papers were entirely fictitious, as were hers. They had agreed that it was perfectly all right for her to say she was from Cologne. She was less likely to make mistakes then, and so many of the records had been destroyed in the bombing of '42, the year before. It made conversation much easier and less self-conscious for her whenever she chatted with other officers or their wives.

They went to two formal Gestapo dinners in the evening. But most of the time, Rupert was working. On one occasion, she came with him for a tour of the factory. The Nazis were very proud of what they were doing. Amadea remembered everything she saw and wrote it down in the evening.

The entire trip was a constant strain, and on the fourth day, Rupert said quietly when they went to bed that he had done it. They were leaving in the morning, and everything had gone smoothly. But Amadea was awake all night with an anxious feeling. She still had it when they boarded the train the next day. She was silent for most of the trip through Germany. It was as though she had a strange premonition, which she didn't dare communicate to Rupert. There was no point making him nervous too. What they had done had been stunningly bold and courageous, and they both knew it.

Their papers were checked frequently on their way across Germany, and in the last station, two young soldiers seemed to take forever. They were very near the border, and she was sure something would happen. But once again their passports were handed back to them, and the train moved on.

Rupert smiled at her as they pulled away. And by morning, they were back in France. They were going to Paris, and from there back to Melun. According to Rupert's papers, he was stationed at SS headquarters in Paris. They were going to Serge, where Rupert could radio into England, and then to Melun, from where he would leave. It was the week before Christmas.

They were hurrying through the station in Paris, when an SS officer grabbed Rupert's arm and called out his name. But it was the name of the SS officer he had impersonated three months before, and not the one he was now. The reality of what that could mean had Amadea shaking in her shoes. But the two men wished each other well and a Merry Christmas, as Amadea and Rupert walked calmly out of the station and hailed a cab. They went to a small café, from there they would walk to Serge's place. As they sat down at the café, and ordered the coffee that was available, Amadea's face was gray.

“Everything is fine,” he said calmly, looking into her eyes to steady her, and speaking to her in French once again. It was nothing less than a miracle that they had pulled it off from beginning to end.

“I am definitely not made for this,” she said softly, looking apologetic. She had been feeling as though she were going to throw up since that morning. And he looked tired himself. The trip had been a tremendous strain, but also a huge success.

“You're much better at it than you think. Almost too good.” She was so convincing as the wife of an SS officer that he was beginning to fear she would do more of this work. And he didn't think she should. You could only risk your life so many times. He always said he had at least ten lives. But she was young, and it somehow seemed like too much risk. At forty-two, he felt as though he had already lived. With his wife and boys gone, no one would miss him if he were gone, except his kinders. What he did, he did to pay the Germans back for his wife and sons, and also to serve his king.

They walked to Serge's grandparents' house after that, reported in, changed papers. Rupert used the radio for several hours, changing frequencies every fifteen minutes, so the Germans couldn't use their tracking devices to pinpoint their position, and listened in to what was happening in France. They did everything they had to do before they left, and Amadea decided that her premonition of something going wrong had been silly. It couldn't have been smoother.

In the end, they drove down to Melun that evening, and got back to her farmhouse before too late. She sat in the barn with him as they had before, and walked out to the field with him after midnight. It was so cold that there was frost on the ground, and there was a light snow in the air. She held his arm so she wouldn't slip on the patches of ice, and he steadied her several times. They had a familiar ease with each other, as though they really were man and wife now, or at the very least somehow related. They were waiting in a clump of trees for the plane to come. It all seemed very routine. It was hard to believe they had been in Germany the night before, and nearly for an entire week. She no longer even cared that it was Christmas. They had survived. That was all that mattered.

The plane came just before one that night. It had been a long wait in the freezing cold. Her hands were numb as she shook Rupert's and wished him a Merry Christmas and a good trip. This time he bent and kissed her cheek.

“You were extraordinary, as usual…I hope it's a good Christmas for you.”

“It will be. We're still alive, and I'm not in Auschwitz.” She smiled at him. “Enjoy Christmas with your kinders,” as the children of the transport were called by their English foster parents, and all who knew of them.

He patted her shoulder then, and she watched the others signal the plane in. They didn't need her for it tonight. She had just come to see him off, like any dutiful wife at an airport. She stood back among the trees, and watched him run across the field to the waiting Lysander, and as he did, a shot rang out. He bent low for a minute, and she saw him clutch his shoulder, and then keep running. There were more shots, and she saw two of the men with the torches fall, with the beams from their flashlights pointing upward. Amadea sank deeper into the bushes. There was nothing she could do for any of them. She wasn't even armed. But she had seen that Rupert was wounded. Within seconds, they pulled him into the plane and took off, closing the door as the aircraft lifted. The other members of the cell had run across the field and disappeared, dragging the two injured men with them, but both were dead. Within minutes there were soldiers everywhere, and she knew that they would be visiting all the neighboring farms. There might be reprisals, or perhaps not, since no Germans had been killed or injured, only Rupert.