The League of Night and Fog Read Online Free

shadowy; its slate floor emphasized the click of their footsteps. Still needing to calm himself, Kessler paused to examine a colorful landscape painting. The artist’s signature was Halloway.
    “My father’s,” Halloway said. “His acrylic period.”
    The reference to Halloway’s father rekindled Kessler’s indignation. Down the hall, he heard angry voices and, preceded byHalloway, entered a large oak-paneled room where eight men interrupted their fierce discussion to look at him.
    Kessler studied them in return. They were of different heights, weights, and facial structures, but they shared one physical characteristic: their ages fit within the same narrow range, late thirties, early forties.
    “It’s about time,” one said.
    Two others spoke in rapid succession.
    “I’ve been here since yesterday.”
    “This meeting was supposed to be urgent!”
    “My flight got delayed,” Kessler told them. “I came as soon as I could.”
    The three men who’d spoken had accents—Spanish, Swedish, and American midwestern. Coming down the hall, Kessler had heard other accents—French, British, Italian, Egyptian, and American southern.
    “Gentlemen, please,” Halloway said. “If we start to argue among ourselves, we help the enemy achieve the second half of his purpose.”
    “Second
half?” The Frenchman frowned.
    “And what do you mean ‘his’?” the Texan asked.
“One
man couldn’t have done this!”
    “Of course,” Halloway said. “But no matter how many, they’re organized, and they share a common goal. That’s why I think of them as one and why
we
have to act as one.”
    “It’s true,” the Italian said. “We can’t allow ourselves to be distracted by our frustrations. We mustn’t be divided. Isn’t that why we got in touch with each other so many years ago and why we
stayed
in touch? Because as a group we’re stronger than each of us is alone. We can better protect ourselves.”
    “But we’re not the ones who need protecting!” the Spaniard said.
    “Not physically perhaps,” Halloway said. “At least not yet. But in our hearts? And suppose they’re not satisfied? Suppose they decide to come for
us
now, our wives, our children?”
    The others straightened.
    “That’s what I meant by the second half of our enemy’s purpose. It’s to torture us with uncertainty, to make us suffer from constant dread.”
    “Dear God.” The Egyptian paled.
    “You understand?”
    “It’s the Night and Fog all over again.”
    Kessler couldn’t restrain himself. “What’s the matter with all of you?”
    They stared at him.
    “Before you pat yourselves on the back about how smart you were to stay in touch with each other, why don’t you admit you’ve been your own worst enemy?”
    “What are you talking about?”
    “How do you think they found us? All they had to do was track down just one and follow the trail to the rest.”
    “We took precautions.”
    “Obviously not well enough. And look at us now. All together.”
    The American midwesterner stepped forward, his features twisted with resentment. “My father would never have told.”
    “Under torture? Come on,” Kessler said. “How much pain can an old man stand? Or what if chemicals were used? I was late because I almost didn’t come at all. The reason I did was to warn you. You’re as much to blame as whoever did this. Don’t stay in touch with each other. I don’t want to know anything more about you, and I don’t want you to know anything more about me.”
    “That won’t solve the problem,” Halloway said. “We’d still be in danger, and it doesn’t bring our fathers back.”
    “I’ve already accepted the fact—mine’s dead.”
    “I don’t give up as easily as you,” Halloway said. “But what if you’re right? What if your father and mine and everybody else’s are dead? Do you intend to let the matter end?”
    “Oh, believe me, I want the bastards to pay.”
    “In that case, we have plans to discuss.”
    Kessler