Chapter 13
Gothenburg, Sweden, in the week before Christmas in 1935, was blazing with holiday lighting. With the grim influence of the Gestapo now in the past, Pasha knew the Nazi terror could still reach him even here. On the plus side, he was now surrounded by a strong party presence. He took no chances, however, to stay alert to the growing number of Nazi sympathizers in Sweden.
Arriving from Stockholm by train, he searched for his contact, Halta Lotta, Limping Lotta.
He relaxed when he saw a large woman hobbling in his direction, oblivious to the stares of people passing by. “f**k ‘em,” she said to Pasha. “To them, people with handicaps are little more than an annoyance. We’re invisible. Nobody wants to look at us.”
Ahead, two sailors offered to open the door. A withering look made
