Behind Enemy Lines by Jennifer A. Nielsen

“It’s a long drive. I’d enjoy the company. But you’ll have to do more than carry this box to my car. I’ll also expect you to do all the unloading once we’ve arrived. If you work hard enough, maybe I can hire you. We need a good kitchen boy.”
    “It’s a deal.” Dak was quick to agree before this opportunity passed him by. He wouldn’t be anywhere near a phone tonight to call Riq, but this was more important. For better or worse, he had just found his way into the heart of enemy territory.

S ERA ARRIVED at her coordinates in Spain with a pulsing migraine and with her body feeling as if it had not quite come back together. She wiggled her fingers to make sure they were still there, and was rewarded with sensations of hot electrical currents traveling from them along her arms and into her chest.
Forget the Cataclysm,
she thought. Time travel would destroy them much sooner.
    Remembering the ways she had managed these feelings before, Sera backed against the nearest wall and forced herself to breathe, to just draw in a full gulp of air, and release it again. Slowly, the pain faded, but she promised herself that she would not use the Infinity Ring again until she absolutely had to. She doubted her body could take much more.
    It turned out she had unknowingly backed up against just the right wall. The morgue entrance was only a few yards to one side, and from the other direction and around the corner, she could hear two men arguing. She flattened herself against the plaster and listened. With any luck, nobody would notice her there.
    “You must let me see that body!” a man said. Even without the translator, Sera knew he was speaking in Spanish, but his accent was German. She hadn’t realized there would be any Nazis here, but it seemed like a safe bet now.
    The person who answered had a Spanish accent. “Clauss, the man inside this morgue is a dead British officer. You are a German — an enemy to that man. Why would I let you see him?”
    Clauss lowered his voice and his tone became more desperate. “Doctor, you don’t understand. I am quite well connected in Germany. There are people in my country who would do anything . . .
anything
. . . to get their hands on the dead officer’s briefcase. I will pay you well if you only let me see what it contains!”
    “I don’t want your money, Clauss,” the doctor replied. “Now you must excuse me. There are people inside who are waiting to begin.” He rounded the corner with Clauss on his heels, then they both stopped when they saw Sera.
    “Are you all right?” The doctor put the back of his hand against her forehead to check her temperature. Little did he know the reason for the sweat on her brow and flushed checks was worse than a simple flu.
    Sera nodded calmly, but on the inside her pulse was racing. She had heard enough of their conversation to know that her real mission was more than just convincing Spain to accept Major Martin’s fake cause of death. She had to convince Clauss, too.
    “I couldn’t help but overhear you just now. And I can help with the postmortem,” she said.
    “How?” The doctor’s eyes narrowed. “A girl of your age has done a postmortem examination before?”
    “Well . . . no.” But Sera had read about them, and even sat in once on an autopsy performed at a local hospital, just for fun. But she hadn’t gotten that close to the body and half the time her view was blocked by the doctors doing the procedure. “My name is Sera, and I’m very good with science. I can hand you tools, and record your observations. I know anatomy and chemistry, and I’m a quick learner.”
    The doctor nodded. “All right. I could use another set of hands,
if
you know when to stay out of our way. Come on in.”
    The doctor went inside, but Clauss grabbed Sera’s arm and pulled her back. He was so thin he almost looked unhealthy, and had a high forehead and a face that looked as if it had been cut from stone. Not a single hair on his head