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The Filberg Consortium by Daniel Wyatt

The Filberg Consortium by Daniel Wyatt

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Published by Dennis Radha-Rose
Book Two of the Falcon File series.

It is late 1941. America has yet to enter the war.

A German agent secretly lands in Great Britain with orders from Gestapo chief Heinrich Himmler and financed by I.S. Filberg, the huge German industrial cartel, to identify and kill the prisoner called Rudolf Hess.

Meanwhile, in London, American agent Wesley Hollinger discovers a crucial missing section to the first Hess peace papers found near the crash site in Scotland. The paperwork itemizes sensitive Wall Street loans to Nazi war factories -- deals arranged by I.S. Filberg.

Hollinger doesn't know who to turn to -- his adopted England or his home country. And thousands of miles away in the Pacific a heavily-armed Japanese Task Force is heading towards Pearl Harbor...

The Filberg Consortium is the second book in the Falcon File series. The first book is The Fuerhermaster and the third book is Foo Fighters.
Book Two of the Falcon File series.

It is late 1941. America has yet to enter the war.

A German agent secretly lands in Great Britain with orders from Gestapo chief Heinrich Himmler and financed by I.S. Filberg, the huge German industrial cartel, to identify and kill the prisoner called Rudolf Hess.

Meanwhile, in London, American agent Wesley Hollinger discovers a crucial missing section to the first Hess peace papers found near the crash site in Scotland. The paperwork itemizes sensitive Wall Street loans to Nazi war factories -- deals arranged by I.S. Filberg.

Hollinger doesn't know who to turn to -- his adopted England or his home country. And thousands of miles away in the Pacific a heavily-armed Japanese Task Force is heading towards Pearl Harbor...

The Filberg Consortium is the second book in the Falcon File series. The first book is The Fuerhermaster and the third book is Foo Fighters.

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Published by: Dennis Radha-Rose on May 21, 2009
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Copyright © 2003, Daniel Wyatt Daniel Wyatt has asserted his right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988, to be identified as the Author of this work. First published by Mushroom eBooks in 2006. This Edition published in 2006 by Mushroom eBooks, an imprint of Mushroom Publishing, Bath, BA1 4EB, United Kingdom www.mushroom-ebooks.com All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher. ISBN 1843190583


New York City – July 29, 1941
The name Filberg was instantly recognized by the personal secretary at Kerr, Chapman & Company when she saw the file at the bottom of the heap of other documents inside her bank manager’s private vault. Her boss, Mr. Chapman, had sent her there to return the Watson file to its rightful place. He then retreated to the adjacent room, preparing to leave on one of his important, highly confidential corporate meetings elsewhere. She shut the vault, and then watched him leave less than three minutes later through the glass front doors that opened onto Wall Street. Chapman wasn’t expected back until two or so in the afternoon. Aris Palini closed the door to her boss’s inner glassedin office, then opened the vault with the proper combination, removed the Filberg material, and crossed to her desk. She dialed zero and gave the operator the Washington DC number she had memorized months before. She stood and waited, drumming her fingers on the desktop. “Mr. Bill, please. It’s important,” she said

smoothly to the woman in Washington. She heard a man’s voice in the background. “May I ask who’s calling?” the woman enquired. “It’s Aris. Hurry, please.” Aris sat behind her desk, looking through the inside office windows to the other employees busy at their work. From her perfect vantage point, she could also see the street, the cars, the sidewalk, and the pedestrians through the open blinds. “Just a moment. I will transfer you to his line.” “Thank you.” She heard the receiver click. “Aris. How are you?” “Fine, sir.” “Where are you calling from?” “Work.” “What is it? Careful what you say.” “Of course, sir. I found some – ” she stopped and opened the file to a half-dozen blank white pages. “What the...” She sat, horrified. “What’s this?” “Aris, what’s the matter?” “Sir, there’s something very strange here. I found a file inside the vault marked Filberg.” “Filberg? Are you sure?” “Yes, sir. But inside it . . . are . . . well . . . blank pages.” “Hold one of them up to the light, and tilt it at an angle.” She obeyed, moving the paper around. “Yes, there are some impressions on them. Some indentations.” She glanced over to the window. Hells Bells! Her boss had just come through the bank doors! Had he forgotten

something? Lucky for her, a bank employee had stopped him. They talked. “Sir, I have to go. He’s coming back,” she said, quickly. “The cafe. Noon tomorrow.” “Yes, sir.” She hung up. Aris would have to move fast to return the Filberg file.

Wesley Hollinger woke with two words stamped on his mind: White House. Why him? He thought about his upcoming briefing for two grueling hours, until Colonel Bill Donovan arrived and handed over the car keys in the hotel parking lot. It was obvious his boss didn’t want to drive. “It’s yours. Remember, right side of the road here.” “Yes sir, colonel,” Hollinger replied, yawning. “Keep the speed down, Kid. I’ve heard about that MG of yours. This here is government property.” The two shared a laugh and walked towards the car. Since his involvement with the Rudolf Hess peace flight, Hollinger had been affectionately known in certain American and British fraternities as the Kid. He didn’t mind. In fact, he kind of liked the name. At ease in his boss’s presence, Hollinger perked up after a good night’s sleep in the comfortable airconditioned hotel. The day was just starting, a steamy Monday morning in the nation’s capital, thousands of miles away from the real action. What a hectic joyride

he had taken on short notice. The President had called him and he jumped. The young man packed a change or two of clothing in London, was slapped a forged Canadian passport, and ordered to board a military aircraft in Prestwick, Scotland, that made stops in Iceland and Labrador, the latter in the midst of an intense rainstorm. At Montreal, a Canadian agent friendly to Donovan cornered Hollinger, rushed him through customs and threw him on a flight to Bolling Air Force Base, Washington, where Donovan intercepted him late last night. London to Washington inside of thirty-six hours must have been some kind of record. Hollinger, the American cipher analyst on loan to the British MI-6, was back home in the States. The land of two-bits, ten-spots, Jack Benny on the radio, Clark Gable at the movies, and the Brooklyn Dodgers and the New York Yankees at the ballpark. The biggest difference was the bright lights. No blackout here. No barrage balloons. No rationing of food or gasoline. No taped windows to prevent shattering in an air raid. No tweed suits or deep pockets jingling with funny English currency. There were jobs and money in America. Lots of both. And edible meals. People were busy. The young women he saw already looked as great as the women here did a year ago. They hadn’t lost their bloom, as Langford would say. And the people spoke the English vernacular he knew, not that rhyming London Cockney slang that even many Brits found tough to decipher. The American situation annoyed Hollinger. Nothing had changed since his boss had sent him on his original

mission to England in 1940. His fellow countrymen were oblivious to the frightening state of affairs in Great Britain. What was the matter with them? Sure, supplying England and now Russia had taken Americans out of the Great Depression and into defense plants. But they didn’t want another war so soon in this century, although it didn’t bother them to aid other countries in fighting one a few thousand miles removed from North America, all for the sake of profit. Thank God for Hitler was the latest American slogan. To most Americans, the conflict was more like a million miles away. It was a European war. Let them sort it out. Hollinger wondered what would make them come to their senses.

Estoril, Portugal
It wasn’t all sport for the MI-6 agent codenamed Saturn, the British Embassy trouble-shooter in the Atlantic paradise. It wasn’t just the white beaches, the bubbling surf, the waving palm trees, the beautiful bronze-skinned women, and the casinos at the Atlantic resort that kept him engrossed. Although he did enjoy such pleasures, plus many more fringe benefits previously unimagined in his native England. At first, he didn’t know how to take the highly irregular order from London. Had they lost their minds? Damn it all to Hell, this was walking headlong into the enemy camp.

He crossed the busy, narrow street to the sidewalk restaurant on the corner, opposite the beach. A breeze gusted off the tranquil blue Atlantic, a crisp odor of salty sea in the air. The sun felt warm, the temperature in the low eighties. Most of the restaurant tables were filled with the typical sad-eyed refugee clientele escaping the Nazis and war in Europe, seeking passage off the continent. Most were Jews with blank looks. They had been there for months, hoping and praying daily for boat or flight arrangements to the havens of either London, or Africa, or New York City. How ironical Portugal was. The place never ceased to amaze him. Spies from every country went about their daily routines side by side in this the largest of neutral espionage hotbeds. A person in intelligence had to be careful. Such close proximity between individuals of belligerent nations was a tricky affair. At Sintra Field, eighteen miles out of the nearby capital of Lisbon, the ticket offices and hangars of Lufthansa and British Overseas Airways were within a stone’s throw of each other. Germans and Brits, side by side. Weird place, this Portugal. Never dull. Saturn regarded the shaggy-haired man in the white suit, sitting at one of the tables with his hat tilted back and smoking, under the shade of a wide, white umbrella. Saturn knew him as Hans Schmidt. MI-6 had a file on him. Registered agent A-296. An alleged importerexporter who smelled of Gestapo from across the street. He was known to have strong Berlin connections. The


two had always kept their distance these last many months. Not even so much as a friendly “hello”. That would soon change. Schmidt looked away and munched on his last morsel of baked fish, a glass of liquor in his hand. He was Saturn’s age. Early to mid thirties. Aryan. Dirty-blonde. Blue eyes. Fair-skinned, somewhat burnt. Saturn strode by with a steady gait. Their eyes locked for a moment. The Englishman entered the restaurant, slipped the headwaiter a one-pound currency note, and darted for Schmidt’s table. The German casually watched him all the way. “Mind if I sit down?” Saturn said over the clamor of crystal, cutlery and conversation. The ocean breeze intensified a touch, then died off. The German stared at the tanned Englishman. “My, my, if it isn’t Kenneth Sims.” “May I?” “Is it business?” Sims paused. “Sort of.” “Name your commodity. Swiss clocks? Schnapps? Cognac? Or is it lumber you want?” “Other . . . business. Let’s say, from one warring country to another.” “Sit down, Herr Sims.’’ “Thank you.” “May I have the privilege of ordering something for you? The sherry is quite delightful. The salmon is excellent. Freshly caught.”


Sims pulled up a seat. “No, thank you. I shan’t keep you long.” “Smoke?” “Yes. I might have time for that, at least.” Schmidt let Sims remove a cigarette from the pack on the table. “Prost, anyway,” he said, tipping back his glass. “Prost. I say, it’s hot.” “Ja. So, Herr Sims, what does MI-6 want with me?” Sims smiled oddly, lighting the smoke. The German knew he was Secret Service. Was that surprising? And Sims knew Schmidt was Gestapo. “I have a message for your Berlin friends,” Sims said. He blew out his first drag. “My company, you mean?” “To hell with your company,” Sims spoke in a low tone, looking away at an attractive Jewish woman two tables down. Schmidt noticed her too. “I’m talking about your Gestapo Headquarters. Look, old boy, let’s not pretend. We both know who the other works for.” “Ach, you Englishmen, such nuisances. All right. Tell me, what’s the message?” Sims ignored the German’s sarcasm. “There have been some rumors circulating ever since Hess’s little . . . peace escapade to Scotland.” “Hess,” Schmidt smirked. “The man is crazy, you know. But then you Englishmen have probably found that out.” “Have we?”


Schmidt chuckled. “Of course, he’s crazy. Flying off like that in his plane and landing in Scotland, thinking he could cut a peace deal with the British. Why would Churchill even listen to him?” “Obviously, our Prime Minister didn’t.” “Hess’s mind is kaput. He has been crazy for many years.” “Perhaps. At least that’s what Lord Haw-Haw and the Fuehrer have broadcast to save face. Who believes that, though? Some insiders say Hess was deserting the sinking ship.” “Hah.” The German laughed, sitting up. “What sinking ship? When are you English going to give up? Churchill is a big bluff. How do you expect to win a war with a drunk leading you?” Sims stiffened. “And what about your situation back home? I hear there’s a little turmoil in the High Command. You might call it a master plot.” “A plot?” “Yes. Your boss, Himmler, has aspirations to oust Hitler and become Fuehrer. He has even taken the liberty to create a new title for himself. Fuehrermaster.” Sims caught a sudden twitch to Schmidt’s right cheek. “You think so, do you?” “Yes, I daresay. Hess knew when to get out. He was going to get it next. And that’s from an excellent source.” “So, why tell me all this?” “Just thought you might like to know, seeing as Himmler is your Berlin boss.” Sims rose from the chair,

his throat dry. Now he wished he had the sherry. It might have hit the spot after all. Schmidt stared. “Going so soon?” “Yes. I must run along. One other thing.” “What is that, Herr Sims?” The Englishman leaned over the table, and stared at the German, void of expression. “We know what Himmler and his henchman are planning to do to the Jews.” He glanced at three Jews in the table next to him. “If we win this war, there’ll be hell to pay. The drunk, as you call him, will see to it. Goodbye, Herr Schmidt. You don’t have to see me out,” Sims said, taking his leave of the German. Schmidt looked away, eyeing the attractive Jewish woman. The German knew that he and Sims would cross paths again. No doubt about that.

Hollinger flipped his Air Force sunglasses on, then turned the ignition of the shiny, black, 1940 Packard. The engine came to life. Hollinger wore his year-old single-breasted suit, still in fashion in America, although he was seeing more double-breasted attire already today. His white monogrammed shirt was freshly starched. His silk tie was a little on the bright and flowery side. His oxfords were polished, his hair cut and combed. Early that morning he had showered, shaved close, sent his cables to London, then run out

and bought a new dark gray fedora to match his medium gray suit. He wanted to make a good impression on Winston Churchill. He had to do his best for the Big Guy from 10 Downing Street. Hollinger released the clutch and pressed down on the accelerator of the eight-cylinder motor. The car jumped forward. Hollinger was tense and showed it with jerky movements on the steering wheel. For a brief moment, he pictured the English woman he had left behind in war-torn Great Britain. He smiled, thinking of Roberta Langford. Feisty, clever, quick wit, deep-brown eyes, long red hair, smashing dresser, great legs. He had a penchant for women with great legs. But he loved everything else about her too. She was fun. Too bad he still hadn’t hit it off with her. And it seemed so close after his accident in May. He couldn’t figure out what had gone wrong. Maybe she wasn’t his type. He never knew what to expect from her most of the time. At any given moment she could be one of two people – either Robbie the sweetie or Robbie the smart-ass. Maybe he should have given up on her and tried dating other English dames again, like Annie, the MI-6 clerk on the third floor, the short, cute brunette who, according to rumor, was reported to have a Union Jack tattoo on her butt. Now that was patriotism. “Tired?” Donovan asked, flicking on the car’s airconditioning. “No, sir, colonel,” Hollinger replied, changing lanes awkwardly, his eyes fixed to the busy street. Cars and


trucks crammed the capital, despite the morning rush having come and gone. “I slept well.” “That’s good. Nervous?” Hollinger looked over. “Yep.” His voice cracked. “I mean, yes, sir, I have to admit I am, a little. How should I act?” “A word to the wise. He’s no different to Churchill. Be yourself. He likes that. But don’t pick your nose or anything.” “I won’t.” “Just kidding. He’s liable to say anything. He’s that way. Off the cuff. You know, there’s not too many consultants your age who get to brief the President on an intelligence or a military matter. But don’t worry, kid. He and I are old friends.” “Are you?” “We went to law school together.” “Really, sir? I didn’t know that.” “And he mixes great martinis.” “I thought you didn’t drink, sir.” “I mentioned that for your benefit.” “Oh, I see. Thank you, sir.” Hollinger concentrated on driving, while the air-conditioner whirred a comfortable beat. The wide-nosed, round-faced passenger with the greased hair and powerful torso removed the early edition of the Washington Post from his briefcase. His eyes roamed over the day’s news. The Pacific was exploding. The Japanese had placed a freeze on British and American assets. The British and Americans

immediately blocked Japanese assets and canceled all oil deals with them, unless they were willing to let up on their Asian conquests, including China. The main sources of Japanese oil supplies were now cut off. Early reports indicated that Tokyo was fuming. Donovan knew this oil embargo was just a way to bide time for America to strengthen her Pacific forces. But was it also giving the Japanese time to prepare for war? In recent meetings, he and the President seemed to think so. More than twice Hollinger’s age, Colonel William Donovan was an accomplished, resourceful individual. Some colleagues thought him an old fud, somebody who bore a close resemblance to Hollywood comedian W C Fields. Hollinger paid such unfair babble little mind. Few fathomed the dedication of the 58-year-old that some knew as Mr. Bill and others as Wild Bill. Born to Irish parents in Buffalo, New York, Donovan was brought up near the tough Lake Erie waterfront where he had to fight to survive. Determined to make something of himself, he enrolled at New York’s Columbia University. On campus, he received his law degree and his Wild Bill nickname playing football. He was also a World War I battle hero, receiving the Congressional Medal of Honor. He later jumped in and out of different professions. He was once a successful mob-busting Buffalo District Attorney, then a millionaire Wall Street lawyer with connections, and a Republican candidate for Governor of New York. During the turbulent years before Adolf Hitler attacked Poland, Donovan had been the eyes and ears for

That was a good sign. Considering the shaky world position. who specialized in foreign espionage. Wild Bill began structuring a top-secret federal organization. He took two trips to England in 1940. Donovan threw Hollinger a sideways glance. he was hoping that the work was not in vain. and the MI-6 Secret Intelligence Service. That meant cooperation. obtaining intelligence information that would someday be useful to his country. By mid-1941.” “Why do you say that.” The American spy agency – the COI for short – was officially up and running. The Irishman had conferred with various heads of state and prominent people. sir?” 18 . the experts in counterespionage on English territory. Democrat President Franklin Delano Roosevelt. He studied MI-5.his old friend. With Roosevelt’s blessings. He farmed them out to observe and report. “Somebody is going to get their war soon. which gave him the ammunition he needed to model an American intelligence agency after the British. Wesley Hollinger was a product of that system. Only two weeks earlier the President appointed Colonel Donovan to head a new federal intelligence agency designated “The Office of the Coordinator of Information. He discovered that the two departments’ paths crossed on occasion. He recruited individuals. Closing the newspaper. it could not have come any sooner for a handful of Americans and Brits in-the-know.

sir. “Sir.“Because some high-ups want it. are you telling me that–” “I’ve said enough. thinking of the telephone conversation he had that morning with Aris.” Hollinger mumbled. sir. **** 19 . The White House. Certain people.” “Thank God for Hitler. Wesley!” Hollinger shot a glance at his boss. Higher than that. Take a right at the next block. Hollinger slowed the Packard down at the light ahead. he saw it. and Hollinger nearly slammed into the car in front of him. that’s why. his former secretary at his Wall Street lawyer’s office. If only that cheeky redhead were here to see him. “Nope. And idealistic. and turned at the street sign marked Pennsylvania Avenue. “Oh. shit!” “Damn it! Watch it. In the distance. “Who’s higher than the President?” “Wesley. that’s who.” “Yes. He looked ahead.” Hollinger felt uneasy. And they always get what they want.” “You mean the President and his staff?” Donovan shook his head. People who stand to make a lot of money if we go to war. “What was that?” “Nothing. you’re still young yet.” the colonel replied. He couldn’t believe he was doing this. “Roosevelt supporters.” The light turned red.

“Colonel. What do you think he’ll say. sir?” “Yes. colonel?” 20 . sir. the Prime Minister is on the line. London The secretary finger-tapped on the office door.” Lampert punched a white button on the side of the C-phone attached to a two-by-two-foot square box by his feet. Washington time. sir.” “Jolly good. Margaret. I can. But can the Kid do it how we want him to do it?” “Second thoughts. He made it safe and sound last evening. sir. anxious for a reply. I should expect.” “Let’s go on scramble.” “If he doesn’t bite.” MI-6 officer Colonel Raymond Lampert quickly lit his pipe and lifted the Cphone receiver. we’re done for. sir?” “What we told him to say. “Yes. “Yes.” “As long as the Big Fish in Washington buys it. I did. colonel. “Can you hear me.” “There’s a good lot resting on our errand boy. Any additional cables will be forwarded to your office. Ours.MI-6 Headquarters. A cable was forwarded to me just a few minutes ago from the Kid.” “Yes.” “Very good. and will be briefing the President at tenthirty. He’s there for one purpose. You left word for me?” The Prime Minister’s familiar lisp was clipped.” “Thank you. It was not in his best interests to keep Winston Churchill waiting on his Whitehall 4433 private line. and peered into the room.

before he left?” “Up to more mischief. isn’t that what he rather is. Lampert doodled on his foolscap pad. A hero?” “Yes. Did you receive the copy of the report I sent to the President?” “Yes. sir. He seems gullible enough. It’s on.” Lampert said. About an hour ago.” “I have an update. sir.” Taking a ballpoint pen. The end justifies the means.” “Already? Good show.” “It is his office.” “In any event. colonel. “Anything else.“Perhaps. colonel. sir.” “Let me know the minute you hear from your Portugal agent. I suppose he is. while I have you on the line? How’s Operation Decoy coming along?” “Not a word. sir. as yet.” “We’ll let the bloke think he’s a hero. “Wesley Hollinger. Whoever would have believed it a few months ago? May the angels in heaven help us.” “Certainly. was he?” “He put NO SMOKING signs in his new office. now that you mention it. Do you know what he did.” “Yes. mustering as much enthusiasm as he could. sir.” “Yes.” Lampert hesitated. Stop Hitler. We’ve made the arrangements for the Atlantic meeting. sir. but—” “Never mind. “Remember our goal.” 21 .

sir. a sealed envelope has just arrived from the code room.” “Fine. “Sir. “I think we just got our answer from Portugal.” Lampert said.” “Of course. “Just a minute.” She showed the package to him.” Lampert’s secretary knocked at the door.“What about Camp Z?” “I’ll be out the door in minutes. Margaret?” “Colonel. Lampert waved her over. Get it over with now. sir. sir.” 22 . “Yes.” he said into the Cphone.

Then they ordered the whiskered fisherman on a north by northeast course. wooden crate. heavy. Now.” “Tell that to my stomach. Why do we have to go so damn far out?” “Still too shallow here. We need to go another mile or more. Chin up. one of the men gripped the starboard rail and vomited over the side. they hauled it from the motorcar. the waves were choppy. to the edge of the water line and aboard the small boat. midafternoon.” 23 . across the creaky dock. anyway?” “Orders. “Yeah. It was a rough ride. Three miles from shore. filled by hard-working fishermen during the less turbulent hours – in the morning.CHAPTER TWO Firth of Forth. Scotland Two husky men struggled with the long. Who’s going to look out here. “Are you going to make it?” the other man asked. when the water was the calmest. I will. The Firth of Forth was a windy waterway off the western slant of the North Sea. Sweating.

Kraut. and was a little under the weather. Scott. sipping her tea. a decade older than her. She told herself that she didn’t mind these last three weeks too much. **** Bletchley Park. For King and Country. She was a desk soldier at her post.” The fisherman steered into the brisk northerly wind. Then she set her tea down and thought for a moment. The twelve-hour shifts. “So long. The stale food. unforgiving water.” as Hollinger had often referred to them. England Langford removed her reading glasses and sniffed. They were mostly innocent old men. and a few minutes later killed the throttle. With grunts. Murphy. She had picked up a summer cold from somewhere. The secrecy between huts. She sat on her desk. Green. She forgot how much she disliked the place the first time around. Now she was 24 . The two passengers bent over the crate and picked it up. Boley. they heaved it into the cold.“I’ll try. six days a week. Ellis. She had slipped into the old routine at the Secret Service cipher school. And Lampert and the Prime Minister too. lapping a series of waves against the hull. And married. a young face under twenty-five stuck in with the “elite old farts. laughing at her situation.” the sick man said. A dignified clerk. The crate bubbled and sank instantly. Jansen. She was back.

Langford hardly looked back. The Russians couldn’t be trusted to keep the source 25 . Different people. Not many women in Britain had a wartime job as interesting – at least on the surface – as hers. Like a sabbatical. Enigma II had six of low priority. It was another part of the radio war that saw her organization processing over eight million enemy words every month. She didn’t have to teach bratty kids. Different hut. Different messages. Although tedious. she tried to tell herself. she leafed through the deciphered Enigma intercepts that had come through fairly steady from the Russian Front. she took pleasure in heading off the Nazi military and High Command dispatches. She didn’t have to drive an ambulance and pull mutilated bodies out of rubble. Stacked on her desk were the messages from the girls in the nearby Decoding Room hut. and the other branches of the service. And fascinating. Alerting the Soviets and passing the German military codes on to them was forbidden. It was different this time. of which she was one – would take over and separate the correspondence for the Army. this. as her girlfriend had done during the dreadful London Blitz the past winter.here only temporarily. Roberta Langford flipped her shoes off and lit a Player’s cigarette. waiting on her boss – Hollinger – to return to Great Britain in a few more days. Not a bad job. the Ultra experts – the distributors of the traffic. Next. So far. or toil on an assembly line. Like a game. Eighty-four for her eyes today. the Navy. Since choosing her profession. With her reading glasses in place.

He’d be getting some dispatches today. 26 . the German Wehrmacht forces had slashed deep into the Soviet Union. Every area encountered a new set of rules. She nodded. They couldn’t do anything anyway. They were getting severely whipped by superior German forces and their newfangled machinery. Some meteorological reports – six – had come through today. major and minor sieges. At the rate they were advancing. a prime objective for the Germans. Her job was to chaperone only. without question. Lake Ilmen was only 100 miles from Leningrad. the German Sixteenth Army had already reached the south side of Lake Ilmen. And the next day. and glorious victories. Today. Screen and catalogue for the departments. What made Langford’s work more interesting this time around was that the German Enigma machines being utilized on the Russian Front differed from the model preferred in the occupied countries of Denmark and France. they would be knocking at Leningrad’s doors in a week. Roberta Langford would follow the directives. The cryptographers at Bletchley always had to keep in mind that the Germans had many variations of their high-grade cipher traffic. Let Lampert know of anything in the high-priority class. the Sixteenth Army would push on tomorrow. and on the Atlantic U-boats. And the next. Langford shot a glance over her shoulder to a map of Russia she kept on the wall. in the north country. The Enigma orders in the deciphered messages spoke of lightning movements. In the five weeks since their synchronized Operation Barbarossa ground and air attack. To be sure.secret.

using single letters for various conditions.” “Yes. “You don’t say. “And you are?” “Spencer Winslow.” She puffed on her cigarette. “I’m looking for Roberta Langford.” Langford looked over her glasses through brown. From Washington.” “Thank you. . keeping in mind that inter-office contact was forbidden.” a male voice asked.. Stolen. I should think. A female voice answered. “How’s the cold?” “Better. Your Yank boss man.” he said. The Germans changed letters weekly. . K for cloud . go on in. . “Ah. except by phone or memo first. thank you. This week . . there you are. my dear. deer-like eyes to see the freckled face and the thick round glasses of Spencer Winslow from the Enigma II Hut Nine. Spencer.” 27 . looking about. they had the codebooks for reference. She heard two people in the hall. Lucky for Bletchley.. “Hello. Caught you before the shift change. once broken. L for clear. He had telephoned a few minutes before.” “Got a cable for you. Simple enough codes. Blue tobacco smoke enclosed her like a fog. of course. What brings you here this hour of the day?” She sniffed.

” He slapped the sealed envelope in his hand. “Now I’ll take that. Then again.“They delivered it to the wrong hut. MEETING POTUS FOR COFFEE. we’ll lose for sure.” “So. Lampert was the Judge or Your Honor. And it didn’t end there. he saw.” “I don’t know what you see in that fellow.” They smiled at each other. “Hut Nine. TOODELOO. his old stomping grounds. He felt comfortable now in his surroundings. SAY HELLO TO THE JUDGE. The Prime Minister favored Former Naval Person for himself when communicating 28 . “Don’t pull my leg. He left and she opened the cable. Churchill was the Big Guy. She was Redhead. It made sense.” she told him. he conquered. Churchill was no better.” “We’ve never even so much as gone out. if you don’t mind. WISH YOU WERE HERE. With this kind of incompetence.” She held out her pearl-smooth hand. The fast-talking American had a nickname for everybody. What a way to run a war. there’s other fish in the sea?” She laughed low and husky.” “I don’t see anything. shaking his head. “Right you are. Enigma II transmissions were recently christened the Falcon File.” “That’s simply terrible. HEY REDHEAD. for he thrived on his codenames. Langford smiled at Hollinger’s silly humor. THE KID. What a tease. Langford knew. Falcon was the Deputy Fuehrer’s codename. He came. this exclusive club.

He was also the one who came up with Operation Urge. She took a long pull of her cigarette and 29 . he was still trying. Roosevelt used POTUS – President of the United States – whenever he cabled Churchill over the London-Washington Hotline. Spencer Winslow had always enjoyed her company. Nicknames and codenames were getting to be a habit in this line of work. Not to be left out. Alex Nevin. Too dreary. Love? Good Lord. but rather nice at times. So many to pick from. Not the way she had been with Arthur. She was fond of Hollinger. Hollinger’s “Mission of Persuasion” to Washington. no! At least she didn’t think so. She wondered how well Hollinger was performing on his trip to the White House. although she was leaving the back door open all the same.with Roosevelt. He definitely had a good side to him. Sometimes he was even honestly sincere. the RAF fighter pilot from Liverpool. But he wasn’t her type. She tried to tell herself she was not in love with him. He knew her status since Arthur had dropped her. and he had tried to move in on her a couple of times. Neither was she steadfastly in love with her new friend. What would they do when he returned? She still couldn’t quite see herself with Hollinger. He was single. when he wanted to be. the bloke with the ego. One of the few at Bletchley. He was a cocky young man. Not really. But she was in no hurry. Suitors everywhere. At least with Hollinger there was never a dull moment. Although she always backed off. Not with the man who hardly ever took things seriously.

Damn this cold! **** Farnborough. For two months. Three hundred feet up. slittrenches dug into the lawns. under close surveillance. Lampert checked in with the armed guard and drove ahead to the gravel parking space alongside the driveway.wondered what Lampert thought of the gutsy analyst now. 30 . This was Camp Z. floodlights for night use. two Spitfires from the nearby fighter base roared. full-throttle. as well as colorful. in close formation. Lampert could see the German prisoner walking the gardens this late afternoon. It was another warm day in what was turning out to be one of the hottest summers on record. The German was now referred to as Prisoner Z. Most of the world knew him to be Nazi Germany’s Deputy Fuehrer Rudolf Hess. The Kid was briefing the President on the status of England. very slowly. eighteenth century Victorian mansion an hour’s drive out of London had housed Great Britain’s most notorious Nazi prisoner-of-war. Only a handful would even guess he was an impostor. unkempt gardens full of rhododendrons. She sniffed and wiped her nose with a tissue. Inside the double-perimeter barbwire barricades were machine-gun posts. England Lampert steered his mud-covered Austin to the gate at Mytchett Place. Put a mark on the wall. the sinister.

wooden floors. The mansion was surprisingly cool. then glanced over at the second guard who had been added at the end of the hall in June after the prisoner had leaped over the staircase in a botched suicide attempt and had fallen to the floor below. All the windows were closed. The prisoner’s bedroom was on the first floor. Beside it was the sitting room on one side. his new. and chipped furniture. sir. When he saw the cracked. as Executive Officer of Enigma Operations. month-old MI-6 title. the bathroom on the other. the colonel waited several more minutes. although they knew the prisoner wouldn’t get too far in his current invalid condition. When the armed entourage helped the prisoner into the building through the ground floor music room. At the top. The ex-British Army officer who had distinguished himself in the Great War had all the time in the world. then entered the gloomy front entrance of the badly-maintained estate.” 31 . A drunk? Mytchett Place could have passed for Dracula’s castle. he wondered who had done the decorating. dark walls. So did the prisoner. surrounded by a metal cage.Lampert raised his six-foot frame from the vehicle. lit his pipe and waited. Colonel Raymond Lampert went about his work today with a high degree of dignity. Lampert nodded at the sentry who stood opposite the caged-in room. Security was tighter now in Camp Z. Lampert climbed the squeaky oak staircase. it seemed. “Your identification. he looked around. Everyone – inside and out – carried weapons at all times. one level up.

“Oh.” “Thank you. Lampert slid into a chair. The colonel flipped out his pocket-sized MI-6 Secret Service ID and waved it under the nose of the eager sentry. and leaned onto the table. his eyes watery. one of the new faces. You’ve been up to no good. colonel.” “What do you want then?” “Let me be frank with you. looked. He was pitifully pale and hollow faced and still appeared to be in some agony from the fall in June. I don’t know any Frank. Prisoner Z was seated in a wheelchair. his voice shaky. “No. And we want you to stop. “Yes.” said Lampert. it seemed to Lampert.” Lampert opened the door. Look here! We’ve been hearing some things about you. They were expecting him. He looked up grimly. who are you? A doctor?” Prisoner Z asked in German-accented English. then returned it. in only months.“Of course. He had aged years. next to a mahogany table. shut up! Don’t be such a ninny.” Lampert exploded.” “I’m sorry. Immediately.” “Stop what?” “You’ve been talking to the guards and making statements like ‘How do you know I’m the real Rudolf Hess?’ Is that true. He took it. his left leg in a cast. “He’s in the sitting room. dear boy?” 32 .

Lampert got up. “I came to Britain in an unarmed plane. You will not play any more silly games. isn’t it?” “Shut up! You are Rudolf Hess. “Do you understand? Can I at least get a nod?” Schubert nodded twice.” “I’ll give you a worse headache if you dare to trifle with us. his eyes on the German.” Lampert’s fist clenched. . You will not attempt any stupid suicides to gain attention. trouble. My rights are being violated under the rules of the Geneva Convention. “I was hoping you were a doctor. I have a headache. . this pigstyso the Duke of Hamilton can’t find me. including your real purpose in coming here two months ago. We know your name. and we’ll go after your family in Germany if you do not cooperate. “No . 33 .” Schubert hung his head.The prisoner looked directly at Lampert. the Deputy Fuehrer of Nazi Germany.” Lampert continued. Herr Felix Schubert? Are you following me?’” Schubert’s face flushed red. . everything about you. “Rights! You listen to me. his mouth hardening.” Lampert waited. I’m kept in this . . more . . A flag of truce. What do you think of that. You know what I mean?” Then he vanished beyond the door. “You know my name? How? It’s the drugs. . “Any more trouble from you and we’ll do away with your miserable life.

sir?” “Churchill didn’t send you.” Hollinger and Donovan thanked the man. Churchill’s 10 Downing Street was a dump by comparison. You might have to wait a few minutes. To arrive at the Oval Office inside the one-hundredand-twenty-five-room White House. who smiled his pleasure before disappearing through a side door. they were ushered to a small reception area.” Donovan said. “I feel I should fill you in on something. “Have a seat. “Yes. Wesley. and past large furnished rooms. It was more like Roosevelt summoned you.CHAPTER THREE The White House Hollinger reveled in the once-in-a-lifetime moment like a six-year-old with a new toy. Finally. he and Donovan were steered by an aide up wide stairs. gentlemen. The White House was better than Donovan’s description of it only minutes before. down long corridors.” “He did?” 34 .

The reports he’s been getting from London are that you’re some playboy out for a good time. But I still don’t get it.” Hollinger was surprised and disappointed. My younger years in college got all blown out of whack by someone or some people and the information found its way into a MI-6 file that the British are using as the gospel truth. sir?” “Either send you back to England or keep you here in some capacity.” “Yes.” “Is that all?” “No.” “That’s ridiculous. You have me convinced. Where on earth did he get that idea?” “I dunno. To put it simply.” 35 . be yourself. Churchill. It could very well be based on how you handle yourself today. OK. Why me in the first place?” “Because you’ve already been briefed on the Hess mission. “It is? I don’t get it. Just don’t be too defensive. “What kind of decision. you’re available. maybe.“Yes.” “Sir. I can assure you that I’m not the wild man people say that I am. What you’re made of. Remember. They both happened to occur at the same time.” “The President wants to see if you’re of use to us there.” “OK. sir. The President has to come to a decision about you.” Hollinger fiddled nervously with the fedora in his hand.

how goes it. “Mr.” “Exactly. the aide returned. wavy hair.“Oh. superbly-cut suit and large diamond ring on his hand. Then the President’s strong eyes fell on Hollinger. “What should I call you? The Kid or the Tyrant of Hut Nine?” Roosevelt then broke into thunderous laughter. over-emphasizing one of the colonel’s nicknames.” “Excellent. rugged American with the thick. “You mean I just happened to be in the right place at the right time.” Hollinger thanked the aide again for the quick tour. fellah?” he said jovially. Mr.” Donovan said. in green tie and white shirt sleeves. And he also had considerable experience with the breaking and decoding of the Japanese Purple code. He was instrumental in the breaking of the German Enigma II diplomatic code I had briefed you about. the young. Put er there!” Donovan set his briefcase at his feet and shook hands with the nation’s mighty commander-in-chief. The President was behind his desk. President.” Minutes later. eh? What name do you prefer to go by?” “Sir?” Hollinger gulped. “You may go in now. one of our COI agents in England. He turned to greet Donovan first. President. “Swell.” “So you’re the fellah who’s turned England upsidedown. 36 . and hurried after Donovan through the door into the Oval Office. “this is Wesley Hollinger. cigarette in mouth. “Wild Bill.” Hollinger smirked.

With his large upper chest. FDR had been victimized by polio. it was a shock for Hollinger to actually see the President’s metal companion beneath him. son.” 37 . he used cumbersome leg braces and crutches. Welcome to the White House. he looked every bit the man who had won his third term of office in 1940 by promising to keep 140 million Americans out of the war. Coffee sounds great.” “Sit down. The newsreels did not show the bona fide Franklin Delano Roosevelt.” “That’s quite all right. “Sorry. sir. Bill. you two. Wesley. I couldn’t resist that. sir.Hollinger relaxed and marveled at his commander-inchief. Someone who Hollinger’s father would probably call a real Iron Ass. As Hollinger perceived it. Coffee? I know you like yours black. Roosevelt’s handshake was firm and warm. Although his two well-established trademarks were present – the glasses pinched to the bridge of his nose and the cigarette holder in his mouth at an arrogant upward angle – the public knew very little of the private man.” “You’ve made quite the impression over there. And you. Wesley? Coffee?” “Yes. Still. wheelchair-bound for the last number of years. To walk. this to satisfy the bleeding-heart isolationists who were condemning the President for speaking out of both sides of his mouth by being friendly to Britain. sir. I should be used to it by now. strong shoulders and deep voice. the President was the Babe Ruth of American politics.” “Thank you.

crushed his cigarette in a desk ashtray. sure. the British don’t scare easily. But they are in no condition to stop Hitler by them38 . Ships. He also seemed as haughty as his overseas counterpart. The wheelchair creaked.” Hollinger said. sir. Thanks for asking. “How’s the shoulder injury. “The Brits have cracked the German codes. Hollinger had been forewarned – the President would be blunt. mister.” The President listened with modest concern.Roosevelt took the silver pot on his messy. . Churchill wants more aid.” “Does he?” “Yes. . The oil of Iraq and the Persian Gulf is a priority. So . Without oil. sir. “What else is new?” he said. Planes. with little effort. Hollinger set his fedora on his arm rest. casually. He folded his arms. then added cream and sugar to the mug given him. We know that keen communications and updated intelligence operations are the keys to winning a modern war. forthwith. “The situation is grave. and lit a new one for his holder. Roosevelt smiled. Churchill doesn’t plan to throw in the towel. However. Winston Churchill. But he believes a Channel invasion is still coming. paperfilled desk and poured for the two men as they took up chairs. Rommel has his eye on the fields.” “So. can England hold out?” the President barked. “It’s nice to drink a good cup of coffee again. son?” “A little touchy sometimes. Britain will go belly-up. sir.

we might have to eventually. knowing the ropes.” “True. They need some muscle. You must be well-enough versed on England’s readiness.selves. I agree with Wesley. “No more than the British were in ’39.” “What do you think of this. cigarette in his mouth. “But are we prepared for war?” His tone indicated that he already knew the answer. “In detail.” “Ours?” “Maybe. They can’t win with Enigma and radar alone. Radar saved them. He sensed the President was toying with them. in the not too distant future. Before England falls. They barely scraped through the Battle of Britain. Bill? Is he telling us the truth or is he another angel of British propaganda playing with the President?” Donovan pinched the brim of his hat in his lap. Wesley?” Roosevelt thundered. Hollinger paused to study Donovan. Bill. In person. “We were well aware of it. the appeasers would have taken over by now.” Roosevelt threw his head back. “With all due respect. I understand. Churchill was nearly overthrown by parliament two months ago. You’ve spoken to Churchill.” Roosevelt turned again to Hollinger. “I think he’s giving it to us straight. As you may know.” “Are you saying we should get into this war.” Roosevelt nodded.” He glanced at Donovan.” “If that had happened. you’re getting around. sir. Not after. “Wesley.” 39 .

Three times. FDR was a blunt man. Hollinger looked uncomfortably around the office for several moments of silence.” “Lay it on me. With the tar on. twisting the sheets at different angles. Hollinger gave a heady explanation of what appeared to be two sets of peace proposals. And he jumped from subject to subject.” the President said slowly. Hitler’s and Hess’s. . sir. 40 . What about this . “What about the Japanese? You’ve heard the latest. Hess incident?” Hollinger cleared his throat.” “Yes. while his leader digested as much of the information as he could. .” Donovan dug into his briefcase and handed Roosevelt several mimeographed sheets that had made their way across the Atlantic in Hollinger’s briefcase. The way I prefer it. Yes. before the President picked up more of the details on his own.” “Doesn’t sound too healthy. They want to negotiate.“Yes. sir.” “Hitler is only one problem. The oil contracts on hold.” “What’s his upcoming strategy?” “Survive till the end of the year. Roosevelt had a peculiar way of reading. Somehow. sir. “That’s why I’m here. Some people feel Britain will lose the war. the freezing of assets across the board.” “No. It doesn’t. The ban of further gas and iron ore shipments to their island. The next topic. young man.

Jet aircraft.The President broke the silence after two minutes. Prior to the attack in June. and rockets.” “Yes. Maybe by his own hand. that is.” “Says here he was seeking asylum?” the President asked. We have no reason not to.” “The battle plans for the attack of Russia.” Hollinger confirmed. sir.” “And the result?” “Stalin didn’t believe the British. But scary. Churchill’s men supposedly informed the Russian Embassy in Great Britain.” “Yes. sir. “Hess claims the Germans have atomic weapons. So he did bring them. That’s astonishing!” “Still years away. I didn’t expect them to be that well along. He sure does. sir.” Roosevelt rubbed his face with a hand. “Yes. therefore we think they’re from Hess’s actual typewriter. sir. Only Hitler thought Hess was representing him. five hundred miles per hour. Three times the speed of sound.” The President laughed. “I guess he does now.” “Yes. The Fuehrer. “Do you believe it?” “Yes. “There’s a few spelling and punctuation errors. “Are these direct copies of a German type?” Hollinger nodded. glancing over his reading glasses at Hollinger.” Silently. that’s correct. the American leader read more. sir. And Hitler let him go. sir. just the same. “Concentration camps?” 41 .” “I see.

“The Germans are methodical people. What do you say to a martini? You game. sir. I hope so. Along with their version of genetic breeding. Hollinger was not accustomed to drinking before eleven in the morning. “Have these reports been verified?” “Yes. Most of this is still in the planning stages. Now. Auschwitz and Dachau have been around for a few years to house political prisoners and Jews. I’m going to like you. his voice rising.” “That’s correct. “We don’t know that yet. He and Donovan eyed each other. Hollinger wanted to say. Coffee isn’t strong enough this morning. MI-6 agents have confirmed everything as true. Mr. But.“Yes. President. Two of note. both slowly grinning. sir. boy. Some master Aryan race.” The President inhaled noisily.” the President said. They go by several names. Wesley?” “I’ll try anything once. beneath the fancy words they have one purpose.” “Atta. they are being converted over to what Hess described as—” “Internment camps. who 42 . execution sites.” The President’s face went pale.” the President answered. sir. “Classic case of the inmates running the prison.” The President seemed to deflate by the second. Roosevelt buzzed the intercom for his valet. sir. That is to enslave and to kill. “In other words. perking up. What’s their method of execution?” His voice seemed weak.

brought with him all the ingredients on a roll-out. The presidential martinis were great. The money was only the beginning of 43 . “There was another set of proposals found. but came up short when they discovered Himmler had placed a secret codename to it. sir. at first. then left. Here they are. holding his drink up.” Donovan and Hollinger glanced at each other.” Hollinger said. topped with a strip of lemon.” Roosevelt buried his attention in the mimeographed copies handed to him from Donovan’s briefcase.” Donovan said. I take pride in my bartending. “One billion pounds! You mean he was prepared to hand the British a billion pounds tucked away in a Swiss account? I find that figure a little farfetched.” Hollinger confirmed. “Sir. “Himmler? What does he have to do with this?” He paused to read. “Thank you. Mr. “I’ve yet to taste a martini anywhere quite this good. “So do we.” Roosevelt beamed.” “Another set?” “Yes. But now we know it was a lie to entice the appeasers. British agents in Switzerland checked it out. There’s no more than the equivalent of fifteen million dollars after the exchange – at most – in the account. President. Wesley. The President enjoyed doctoring up the exact amounts of gin and vermouth. sir. MI-6 tried to access it. Donovan knew what he was talking about. “The one billion booty seemed legit. Hollinger was sold. On his first taste.” “That’s not all with Hess.

Part of the pact would see Himmler take over as the new Fuehrer. In case the line was tapped by the enemy. they’ve discovered his name is Felix Schubert. We think he had schemed to kill Hess in mid-flight. then attempted to fly out of Scotland for Ireland. boy.” The President was mortified. Hess escaped the net and flew his way to Scotland the same time Himmler’s man arrived by sub.” “Churchill couldn’t tell you the truth.” “What!” “A Hess look-a-like. using Hess’s aircraft. to present a peace deal with the British. over the wire. and send a man over by sub instead.” 44 .” “No wonder the British are so tight-lipped about it.” “How long will the British keep this a secret?” “With the real Hess dead. “Good Lord! Are you serious? An impostor?” Hollinger nodded. “Himmler? That’s incredible. He had a plot of his own. Himmler’s man shot Hess dead.Himmler’s participation in the Hess flight. With new experimental truth drugs. “The man the Limeys have in custody is an impostor. we might have to take it to our graves. What do you mean he shot Hess dead? Who the hell is behind bars in England?” “Sir.” “Who else knows?” “Only a handful. sir. “’Fraid so.” The President raised an eyebrow.” “But something went wrong.” Hollinger said. only—” “Hold on here.

Movies. is under heavy guard in a castle fifty miles southwest of London. Mr.“It’s a massive cover-up. The impostor. It’s labeled Most Secret. photographs. a few members of MI-6. glancing at Donovan. did you?” “Yes. Churchill has made it clear that no one in England who knew Hess before the war will see the prisoner. meanwhile. He . “Since the news of his flight.” Hollinger shook his head.” “I see.” A hush swept over the three men. “It might look that way to him. President. “The likeness is pretty fair. enough to fool those who had never met him face to face.” Roosevelt said. He’ll play along if he knows it’s his only way to stay alive.” “Oh. MI-5 don’t and will not know. bringing the martini to his lips and swallowing.” Hollinger continued. Hallucinating. Churchill. a few feet apart. then. was the word.” 45 . as the Brits say.” Roosevelt grinned. us three. “An impostor. . But that’s not the case. It’s a desperate situation. Neither will the Special Operations Branch of MI-6. unauthorized interviews are forbidden. “I saw both him and the real Hess up close. He’s convinced that Germany and England are plotting against him. What do you know? You saw this man. Stalin is suspicious. . Hitler’s broadcasts said Hess was crazy. he was the one who shot me. sir.” “Only a few choice people know.

” Donovan looked over at Hollinger as if to say. it’s quite safe to tell you a story. One reason only. for England’s sake.’’ Roosevelt nodded with a fluid firmness. England – Churchill in particular – needs this administration. They have me by the short hairs. Not enough to send American boys over.” Hollinger said. Only Congress can declare war. “we’ll get into it. Perhaps. see I told you. There’s been a direct channel between us for two years. clenching the cigarette holder in his mouth. you’re already privy to some sensitive information. he was headed back to Great Britain. 46 . Therefore. Not me. I can’t afford to bring a divided nation into this. Tell the Prime Minister that. sir. How and when is the question.” Hollinger felt at ease in his heart. Tell Churchill that and I will too. one of these times. We’re neutral and we don’t want to abuse the neutrality laws. “Wesley.” “I will. Another administration in the White House would have passed England off as lost. But damn it.Roosevelt sat up. a pride in his voice. Even though we’re already in it more than most Americans realize. when I see him. I’d be impeached by now. We share secrets. You’ve been a witness to some of this at Bletchley Park. “I hope it won’t be too late. one that Wild Bill knows well. I decided to go for my third term of office last year for one reason. My situation is critical. We see eye to eye. “On the whole our country isn’t behind England. If the truth were known about how we were secretly aiding Britain.

Him. I want somebody who can sink their teeth into the situation there. boy. Have a safe trip back. Wesley Hollinger. sir.” Hollinger stood and crossed into the reception area and sat down in a wide. “Shocking.” Donovan stood beside Hollinger. Wesley.“Me too.” Hollinger was relieved. “Return to England.” “This has been a most enlightening morning. “How do we know that the British aren’t holding anything back?” Hollinger had been considering that for weeks. the briefing at an end. “Yes. he’d vote to gladly remain in England. that’s all they gave me. Keep a low profile. smiling. “so we can talk behind your back. Wesley. they aren’t. raising a finger.” Roosevelt returned the papers to Donovan. Donovan called him back to face the President.” Roosevelt said firmly. “To my knowledge. won’t you. comfortable chair.” “Leave the room for a moment. you two. Then again.” the President ordered. but your eyes and ears should be open for anything that might concern us as Americans first.” “Yes. His future was being discussed in the Oval Office. Report directly to Colonel Donovan. If it was all the same to him. Thanks for coming. sir. And another chance with Roberta Langford. He only had to wait ten minutes to find out the verdict. This is it?” Roosevelt waved the papers in his hand. “Wesley. one of Wild Bill’s sidekicks. 47 .

” Hollinger replied. “Good luck. He was won over.” 48 . Iron Asses. Hollinger came to some quick conclusions. And they could drink at any hour.” Hollinger cleared his throat.” The President appreciated the remark. Hollinger. you’ll go far in the COI. Walking down a hall. In fact. sir. looking up from his wheelchair. Any day. my boy. FDR and Churchill had a lot in common. and God speed. and in a low voice said. the both of them. grabbing his fedora off the arm rest. They knew which end was up. “By the way. “And a special thanks for the refreshments. forget I said it.” Filing out in step with Donovan.“Thank you. in a democratic sense. They were ruthless with their opponents. “What talk?” “Good boy. Donovan turned to Hollinger. our little talk in the car about the war is not to be repeated to anyone.

CHAPTER FOUR Camp Z – July 30 Once Stephen Jordan pin-pointed the general location of the mansion. which he knew was well back off the road. Run exclusively by MI-6. He saw the red-brick mansion through the trees. Every soldier was outfitted with a firearm. Two detachments. So this was Camp Z. one from the Coldstream Guards. He’d stick to what the anonymous telephone caller had whispered to him. He left the car and worked his way through the thicket called Windsor Forest. squatting down as he came to the edge of a clearing. either a pistol 49 . He would have to stop his car a good mile back and take the rest of the way on foot. His powerful binoculars would have to do the rest. He couldn’t go any further. The grounds were also fortified against German Commando raids. the other from the Scots Guards. so Jordan’s contact said. he drove on with extreme caution. were detailed to guard the famous prisoner. The anonymous caller had warned him of that.

then a guard assisted him into the mansion. not to be heard. Then he stopped cold. It didn’t matter. Jordan had heard of the prisoner’s accident. Jordan waited. The howling engine of an overhead banking fighter suddenly drowned out every noise for a few seconds. A man in dark clothing emerged. thirty feet off to the right. slowly. making a slow. the back door swung open. two guards propping him up. Disappointed. The German did look like Adolf Hitler’s deputy. unsteady turn of the property in one corner. Four men were inside the barbwire barricade. Jordan pulled his hand out of the foliage. Jordan started to climb down. It would have been easier to tell had he not sustained the injury because Rudolf Hess had a distinct walk. An armed soldier appeared. So watch it. he zeroed in on the prisoner’s face. The prisoner was closer now. After an hour. Jordan flipped his darkrimmed glasses up into his hair and with the binoculars to his eyes. Jordan shook his head. He couldn’t tell conclusively. The prisoner was out in the yard for only ten minutes. A few had both. It was too far. It was plain to see from a few hundred feet away.or a machine gun. Jordan was told. The man on the phone was right for the umpteenth time. The soldier walked along the 50 . Jordan climbed the tall tree nearest the clearing and pushed aside a branch and some leaves to study the nearest gun post and garden beyond with his eyepiece. The prisoner’s upper leg was in a cast.

When the guard finished up. All the soldier had to do was look up and Jordan was cooked. “Anything?” “All quiet on the eastern front. Then two robins flew out of one of the trees. He’d be marched off to the mansion and interrogated. Blasted! The soldier was relieving himself in the weeds. Tea time.” “Let’s push off. He closed his eyes and said a silent prayer.” The soldiers walked away into the clearing. Then Jordan heard a strange noise. and brought their firearms up. “Birds. Pissing right under the tree! The strong smell of urine drifted up to Jordan. We’re getting paranoid. Jordan moved his foot.” **** 51 . Come along. The guards stopped short. Jordan clutched the trunk with one hand. “What was that?” They ran for the forest. his binoculars with the other. nearly gagging him. The soldiers heard it. It was very quiet now. Before the tea gets cold. A hissing.clearing and stationed himself immediately under the tree. And he’d have a lot of explaining to do. The sound of the fighter was gone. stopped.” one guard sighed out loud. “Whew. his Bren-gun by his side. Jordan held his breath. another soldier stepped forward.

Ivone Kirkpatrick. NAZI LEADER FLIES TO SCOTLAND.London Daily Telegraph Jordan loosened his tie and flipped through his office files until he found the bold Glasgow Daily Record frontpage headlines of the Rudolf Hess flight. the BBC executive who made the official government identification of the pilot with the Duke of Hamilton. and the account from the ploughman who had captured Hess. He recalled the wild rumors he’d been hearing since the prisoner had crash-landed his ME-110 in Scotland more than two months ago. a man named David McLean. and removed his glasses to rub his eyes. Kirkpatrick had since denied he ever said such a thing. RUDOLF HESS IN GLASGOW OFFICIAL. Back in May. Why? Had someone talked to him? Warned him? Even threatened him? Were they the same people who were denying the newsman – Jordan – access to the prisoner? 52 . Jordan poured over the crisp clipping which included the government’s official statement. At the time. However. Jordan checked one such rumor out by asking someone he knew personally. Jordan slapped the paper down. HE BROUGHT PHOTOGRAPHS TO ESTABLISH HIS IDENTITY. HITLER’S RIGHT-HAND MAN HAS RUN AWAY FROM GERMANY AND IS IN GLASGOW SUFFERING FROM A BROKEN ANKLE. Kirkpatrick told Jordan that he felt that the prisoner looked different than the Hess he had known in Berlin. HERR HESS. a simple nobody who had become famous overnight by pure accident.

The second letter was one such signed and stamped verification. books. But no newspapers or wireless. No contact with the outside world. what to watch out for and the dangers along the way. May 18. Permanent Under Secretary at the Foreign Office. Who was he? How close had he gotten to the prisoner? A guard there now? A former guard? Why was he helping a newsman? He knew where the prisoner was in custody. He was responsible for the health and comfort of Prisoner Z.It seemed anyone who knew Hess on sight wasn’t allowed to visit him. One was an official government document with a significant first line. Any visitors had to be authorized and signed for with paperwork by Alexander Cadogan. It instructed a certain unnamed person to proceed to a place called Camp Z at 1200 hours on Sunday. Only the name had to be filled in to be valid.1. Then came yesterday’s anonymous phone call. Food. MOST SECRET. The editor of the London Times was one of those kept at length. how to get there. Four letters to him on newspaper office stationery had gone unanswered. and even some little tidbits 53 . writing materials. with the genuine Foreign Office stamp. The location of the camp and the person’s duties were described in detail. recreation were to be provided. And two letters later left in his mailbox. And he probably wanted to stay anonymous. Jordan had a flood of questions. And the steel magnate Simon Brenwood – Churchill’s fiercest opponent – refused to talk. OPERATION ORDER NO. The anonymous person knew a lot.

Jordan remembered how Rudolf Hess walked. and often wolfed them down. He was still an idealist.about the man behind bars. Something – no! – a lot. For instance. the prisoner’s eating habits and table manners were atrocious. He especially enjoyed beef and chicken dishes. like her husband. thank you very much. He had met and chatted with his wife. and a hell of a lot smarter. A precious few. He lunched with him. wiser. elbows spread out. Some close to Churchill. He had spent some casual time with Hess at his home outside Munich in 1936. Only a few years older. from an upper middle-class background. A bright-eyed idealist who sought the truth. of course. even under the cloud of military secrecy and the stiff censorship inflicted on newspapers during the war. His first year on the job. He was courteous. Hess was supposed to be a vegetarian. Fine woman. Ilse. He was so young then. obnoxious. forgetting it was not an option. upright. Jordan didn’t miss the clues. Proud. like the rest of England had settled to doing. Intelligent. didn’t fit. And he was rude. somewhat dimwitted. Vegetable dishes. Barely twenty. He was a newsman who still felt compelled to find and report the facts. He sat hunched at the table. So inexperienced. Jordan could forget the whole Hess thing. Jordan saw it for himself five years ago in Germany. Jordan even took a turn with the Deputy Fuehrer on his beautifully-manicured property. or perhaps Churchill was part 54 . Jordan had to laugh. Not rude. stiff. But for Jordan. Some people in London knew the truth.

. . a carefully-laid plant pretending – for some reason – to be Hess? **** 10 Downing Street “Hitler knows that he will have to break us in this island or lose the war. including the United States.of it too. The powerful speech – still talked about in the free world – had helped to carry Great Britain through the Blitz and the Battle of Britain. where strategy was changing significantly from month to month. Ancient history in this war. For the hundredth time today Jordan contemplated what had been driving him mad for weeks. all Europe may be free and the life of the world may move forward into broad sunlit uplands.’” It had been over a year since Churchill’s “Finest Hour” radio broadcast had inspired the free world. year to year. If we can stand up to him. But if we fail. made more sinister and perhaps more protracted by the lights of perverted science. the whole world. Let us therefore brace ourselves to our duties and so bear ourselves that if the British Empire and its Commonwealth last for a thousand years. men will say. But that was last year. ‘This was their finest hour. Was this man imprisoned at Camp Z Nazi Germany’s Deputy Fuehrer Rudolf Hess or . Maybe his whole damn cabinet knew. In 1940. including all that we have known and cared for. 55 . will sink into the abyss of a New Dark Age.

a radio station. wires. lit by candles in lanterns. By the summer of 1941. In these surroundings stood a map room.000 people. powered by compressed air. politicians. Prime Minister Winston Spencer Churchill continued to conduct the affairs of his country at war with Adolf Hitler’s Nazi Germany. hunched over the end of the conference table in the underground War Room one hundred feet below Whitehall and his Downing Street residence. he had the gall to exile the figurehead of the appeaser group. Here. Soon after. and newsmen were labeling the plump. one member of Parliament went so far as to say that the only way to fight Hitler was with another Hitler. Appeasers feared him. the Hole was the nerve center of the English war effort. and pipes. to the Bahamas to act as Governor. braces. a dull. a cabinet room. who had his own agenda for ruling by decree. in the midst of musty smells. military officers. Communication tubes. the Duke of Windsor. strong-willed. No wonder. the leader of the “British Peace Party” to Washington as Ambassador to the United States. with exposed timbers. lined the walls and whistled as messages were sent from one department to another. Insiders called it “The Hole in the Ground. and the Prime Minister’s office. a power station.” Designed to house 2. He had banished Lord Halifax. In private. Connecting dungeon-like rooms were ugly and damp. Churchill a virtual dictator.The voice behind that mighty radio broadcast puffed furiously on his thick Havana cigar this afternoon. meaningless 56 .

At his desk. As a result. He couldn’t continue to fight a war on just words. few had been testing him now that the high-level Fifth Columnists were brought under control and were behaving. across from the large-scale map of Europe. The French had the strongest Army in the world – on paper. arrested. Great Britain had little left of her armed forces. They paid for it. Over his cigar. He was losing the war. Simon Brenwood. Enemy U-Boat strength had picked up. many wondered what he could do to others of lesser note. leaving England in such a desperate state. Brenwood. Since the Hess flight. Churchill read a few copies of the Enigma intercepts – meteorological reports and 57 . It still bothered Churchill how France had capitulated so easily in 1940.assignment for the man who had secretly supported Hitler all along. And Churchill had Halifax’s successor. at least. Oliver. with barely a fight. Since Dunkirk. more Allied cargo ships were being torpedoed to the murky Atlantic bottom. and he’d be the first to acknowledge it to close friends. dearly. All because the fools didn’t believe in the danger of air power. O’Malley. such as House of Commons back-benchers who didn’t toe the line. Butler. The Wehrmacht continued to goose-step across the Russian Plains. The Duke of Hamilton. Rommel – the Desert Fox – still had his way with the demoralized British forces. But Hitler’s forces cut through them like a knife through butter. the sixty-six-year-old War Lord was in a surly mood. Strang. If the Prime Minister could take care of such VIP’s.

Poland. Switzerland. Lithuania. knowing that more lives would be saved in the long run. Today’s intercepts spoke of a thrust to Leningrad. Churchill had to let the raid go on. The four neutrals – Sweden. All under the shiny Nazi jackboot. An ever-expanding portion of western Russia. with regret. It was to be Coventry. Austria. He turned around to the map of Europe. the call-signs of the receiver and the sender. the time. in the overall war picture. Churchill found it alarming to know so much. Spain and Portugal – were the only untouched countries on the continent. Czechoslovakia. The Germans were unbeatable. Estonia. Norway. Churchill did not enjoy playing God. It reminded him of the Blitz last November 14 when Bletchley had intercepted four hours in advance the next German bombing target. where the black pins and red strings identified the boundaries of the Axis Empire. running a country during a war. Each message indicated the frequency. But if he had done that the Germans would have known their Enigma code had been broken. not to mention the guts of the message. Hungary. they were on the standard eight-by-ten inch sheets. 58 .Hermann Goering’s orders to his Luftwaffe fighter and dive-bomber leaders on the Russian Front. Terrible business. Most of North Africa was Irwin Rommel’s domain. flying the Swastika. Frightening stuff. Sent over from Colonel Lampert’s office. Latvia. the date. France. that evening! Churchill could have called for an evacuation of the city to save lives.

“We’ve found an orthodontist in London who can alter the inside of the prisoner’s mouth slightly to give it Hess’s bucktooth appearance. one of those in the inner circle. The door handle rattled. a mere twenty miles as the crow flies across the Channel from occupied France.” “Jolly good. Churchill laughed. The other things?” A week before. colonel. To start with.” “How’s our lame man?” Churchill grunted. isolated. Churchill peered over the rims of his half-moon reading glasses. his voice sturdy. Do everything you can to safeguard him against any further incidents. Colonel Lampert. Find a chair.” “Yes. Even lost my temper with him. sir. He’ll cooperate. Great Britain stood off to one side. Twenty miles from annihilation. “Don’t we all? What about that little problem?” “I read him the riot act. And a chunk of Egypt. sir. Libya.” “It’s imperative that he does.” Lampert answered. the two men had discussed Prisoner Z’s future should the British be victorious over Germany and should the impostor go to trial. “He snores.Algeria.” 59 . and heavier of late. grayer. we’ve increased the drug dosage in his food. older. had arrived for the weekly in-person MI-6 progress report. I did. “Close the door. sir.” “Thank you.

you know.” Lampert took his generous portion. sir. I have a letter right here. have you?” “Yes. “To the war effort. A good forger will do the job for us. “Come for your afternoon spot of tea. One of those old Anglo-German Fellowship Association clods. What’s her name?” “Ilse.” “Who is he?” Churchill dug for the sheet. he unscrewed the cap and poured until the glasses nearly spilled over. “Stephen Jordan. sir?” “I ran out.” Churchill smiled.” They sat around the table and drank.” “Well?” “We found some pre-war notes in our files in Hess’s handwriting. “Bottoms up. With shaky hands. An excellent offer that is fitting for the moment.“The handwriting? He’ll have to start writing to Hess’s wife soon.” Churchill found the brandy bottle and two glasses in a side cabinet. But no whiskey and soda. A newsman. Churchill licked his lips. “There’s people who want to interview the prisoner. Covered the Berlin Olympics in ‘36 60 .” “Jordan? From the Daily Telegraph?” “You know him?” “Yes. sir.” “Brandy?” “I’d be delighted. His third written plea to me to see him.

yes. He hoped this idea would bear fruit. out of mind. Alienate Himmler from the rest of those gutter rats. Anything else for me?” “Our man in Portugal. cabled Headquarters this morning. Kenneth Sims. not a bleeding thing. “Operation Decoy. They put it in a crate. two of our men had it taken out of the ground. sir. Our agents have their ears open for any information coming through our listening posts in the neutral countries.” “It’s highly possible.” “You think he’s heading straight to Himmler?” “Could be. Schmidt.for the Telegraph. sir. Saturn.’’ Churchill nodded. Buried at sea.” “I don’t like that. Switzerland is always our best source.” 61 .” “Oh.” “I’m glad of that. “Did you do what was necessary to Hess’s body?” “Yesterday. What did he say?” “It seems the trap’s been laid. And he knows the Duke of Hamilton quite well.” “Is that so? Chances are he might have met the real Hess in Germany.” Churchill bit the Havana cigar between his teeth. yes. I’ll just ignore them. I suppose. the information. Then the German took a Lufthansa flight to Berlin early this afternoon.” “Out of sight. For the first day or so. and dumped it a few miles into the Firth of Forth. filled it with some bricks. Deliver the first blow. after Sims gave the Gestapo man. Use the Hess papers to their benefit.

” Lampert’s eyes bulged. As long as he told Roosevelt what we briefed him on. Quite the lad. Hollinger and Donovan gave Roosevelt both barrels.” “Sizable concessions. “He did! What offer is that?” “Yesterday. “Lucky.” “You think Hollinger knows the score? Remember how the sneak outsmarted us with the Hess flight. above and beyond his original proposals in Hess’s papers.” “There’s no sign of a Channel invasion. The President got the good word – the Hess proposals and the impostor information. young Wesley.” Churchill said. The two ambassadors are the only ones briefed.“Precisely. “Incidentally.” Churchill cleared the bile in his throat. They’re waiting on my reply. a top secret communiqué came through our Embassy in Switzerland from the German Embassy. .” “What’s in the offing?” “If England signs a negotiated peace to end the war. for a promise of a free hand in Russia. “A cable came through yesterday. I want you to know that Hitler has given us an eleventhhour peace offer. That’s what really counts. concessions.” “It doesn’t matter. certainly not since the attack on Russia. more than anything. his jaw thrust out. . are they?” 62 . Hitler said he is willing to give up some .” “Have you heard from the Kid?” Churchill grinned for the first time. He must see that.” “Don’t remind me. colonel.

” “You don’t say? Is he serious?” “That’s not the point! Serious or not.” “May I make a suggestion. colonel.” the Prime Minister said. Remember what happened to Napoleon. of course. that I don’t wish to elaborate on. “it doesn’t leave us in a bargaining position. Churchill didn’t object to men in the tight Whitehall circle doing that providing they eventually came to an understanding.” Churchill considered Lampert’s opinion. this can’t be leaked out to anybody. If Hitler is willing to deal. 63 . Germany will set the world price of oil. The colonel was one man who would dare to speak his mind. previously-occupied territory. But I don’t necessarily have to follow it through. We’ll grind to a halt. “We’ll see if Hitler pays heed to history. he just may burn himself out on the Russian Front. The winter spoiled his plans for conquest. Churchill’s understanding.” “If Hitler’s willing to make concessions – whatever they are – for Russia. What kind of peace will that be?” “I’m merely thinking of a temporary truce. I will tell our Ambassador to kindly inform the German Ambassador to go shit in his hat.” Churchill cut Lampert short. then don’t you think we should negotiate with him?” “If Rommel reaches the oil fields. Forget the whole thing as if it never happened! I’m not even going to discuss it with my cabinet. The Prime Minister detested yes men. sir?” “By all means.“Let’s say.

“Peace with Hitler” was a dirty phrase in Churchill’s presence. What did Roosevelt call him? My Secret Legs. Donovan is under our wing and he’s close to the President.” Churchill didn’t mind Lampert’s honesty. He knew better than to press. As far as Hollinger knows. There will be no Vichy-type government in England.” “Nonsense! He won’t.” “You mean some . The Americans.“We can always try testing him and come back with a clause of our own. the issue is dead. He’s a monster. . Hitler has to give up North Africa too. School mates. sir.” Lampert shook his head.” Lampert caved in. will require some coaxing. Say . “We are on some dangerous ground. Our Lend-Lease could come to an 64 . like any soldier worth his salt. . I told you. They believe anything we tell them. we did too. Between friends. . “Speaking of Russia. . Mr. We got the Russians into this war by sitting on our rumps and doing absolutely nothing to help them. lying to. He wants the oil. Prime Minister. providing there’s some shred of truth to it. you don’t suppose the President asked Hollinger if we had notified the Russians about Operation Barbarossa?” “I rather suspect he did. Obey blindly. “Just some stretching of the truth. on the other hand. What if they should discover we’ve been pulling their legs? It would cause a row in their papers. despite the gloomy possibility of total defeat. And not to be trusted.

Donovan’s man arrived exactly on the hour. **** New York City At 11:40. colonel. She knew him simply as Smith. Good thing she had reserved. The consequences could be worse than what we’re facing now.” “I want you to keep an eye on Hollinger. As usual. I will have to convince Roosevelt in our meeting that the fate of the world lies in his hands. “My God. what will?” “I have to wonder. Aris trotted her way through the light rain to the restaurant within walking distance of her bank.” Lampert nodded. sir. if the Jewish camps and the German technology doesn’t do it.end. “As you wish. closed umbrella in hand. She always had to view the street. for it was busy early today.” “Yes. And he has to know it. Americans like that sort of thing.” The Prime Minister laughed. she was given a window table. Just in case he finds out what’s really going on.” “They won’t find out. He 65 . Good for their ego.” The colonel knew that watching Hollinger’s every move was easier said than done.” Lampert nodded again. We’ll just help him along.” “The President is holding all the cards. “One other thing.

I did. getting along?” “Swamped. “How’s my old boss. dark-haired thirty-five-year old woman of Greek descent.” She looked around.” He was surprised. a sugar mixture. He’s in his vault every day. He’d know when something’s missing. Filberg. in his twenties. “Hello again. That’s why I called him. Mrs.” “You think it’s invisible ink.” “With what’s happening over in Europe. “An invisible liquid of some sort. and I’d be a suspect. Palini.” the man said to the attractive.” “He’s right. then the 66 . we’d have to either heat it or dip it into solutions. “You don’t know Chapman. “Call me Aris.S. Once we do that. How could I bring anything with me? Fold it up? Even the slightest crease or fold in one of those papers. remember. not saying a word to her until they started on some hot coffee delivered by a cheery waitress. the colonel is very interested in anything to do with I.” Smith sighed. colorless vegetable juice. Mr. He sat down and smiled. Could be milk. for us to read it. He pulled out a cigarette and lit it. Trouble is. I guess you’re right.” “Don’t I know it. Bill. Lowering his voice he said. “Why not?” “I couldn’t chance it. don’t you?” Smith nodded.” “Did you bring any of the sheets with you?” “Of course not. “Mr.was younger than her. “Yeah. Bill tells me you came across a file on Filberg.” she replied.” Smith leaned forward.

“Chances are that might be the case here.” Smith smiled wide. maybe he reads it through a filter. At the same time. But I have to get into your bank to see the file. He’d have to access the material every so often. “What’s so amusing?” “Quite the coincidence that your bank – a red-blooded American bank – has a file on I.” “I’ll wait for your call. good work.” “When?” Smith asked. Filberg.” 67 . So. you’re not supposed to read it. Aris sipped her steaming mug of coffee. the ones used in a photo darkroom. We can’t put the papers back in the file like that. the huge German munitions conglomerate.” He shrugged.S. If that’s the case.” “Unless it’s read through a filter.” “Thank you.” “Yes.” “No. “The next occasion that Chapman leaves.writing stays visible. you would. we can’t. we’re laughing. I wonder what’s coming off? Anyway. Put ourselves in Chapman’s shoes.” “What kind of filter?” “Could be a common red safety type.

The Fuehrer said that Hess had intended to hand the British the plans for Operation Barbarossa. Heads would have to roll.” Himmler wrote in his date book: 16:45.CHAPTER FIVE Gestapo Headquarters. No one of consequence could be spared. “Has Hans Schmidt arrived yet?” “No. Spoke with adjutant concerning Schmidt. I want to see him at once.” answered the alert male adjutant in earnest. he hasn’t.” “I understand. Herr Reichsfuehrer. regardless of who else is in the appointment slot.” “When he does. Herr Reichsfuehrer. Berlin – August 1 Heinrich Himmler pressed the silver-framed pincenez to the bridge of his nose and punched his intercom button firmly. 68 . That was enough for Hitler to seek revenge and retribution. “Yawohl. Response would have to be swift. Reichsfuehrer-SS Heinrich Himmler had been methodical in his approach to the Hess case. The last ten weeks. Herr Reichsfuehrer.

Number 16. X. Himmler had drawn up a numbered list and marked X’s beside each name. the former chicken farmer had stretched his tentacles and systematically directed the fate of the Deputy Fuehrer’s medical and physiological doctors – the mediums. drilled. So were many of their friends and associates. under Himmler’s watchful eye. All were interrogated. Hess’s wife remained unscathed. X. the homosexual ring he belonged to in Munich. He wondered if she knew of her husband’s guarded background.. Their associates.. It didn’t matter now. Albrecht’s father. Albrecht Haushofer was one of the first put out of circulation. Himmler took to the new assignment with his usual structured energy and terror. So were their assistants. for it was he who would carry out Hitler’s decrees in the form of national emergencies.. He was still in custody.. the doctors. Professor-General Karl Haushofer. With a stroke of his gold pen. He was Number 15 on the list. The dreamy idiot. The homosexual. the renowned father of Geopolitics. They were promptly arrested. the therapists – who had treated him. And the astrologers Hess had kept strange company with. 69 .. Most had been released by now. Or did it? X. then freed. Their friends.That pleased Himmler. was brought in. tucked away in prison writing sonnets to amuse himself. He was the true law of the land who held the power of life and death over Germany and her conquered territories..

except Hitler. Bormann was just a slimy. Without a trace. What did that say for the rest of the High Command? Bormann went out and spread the halftruths that Hess was not a real German because he had been born and raised abroad in Egypt. and that he had been harnessed by the British influence at an early age. Himmler promised himself that he would get Bormann . In the resulting shield of confusion and paranoia. soon. It was Bormann’s idea to officially announce Hess’s assumed mental illness before really thinking the whole thing through. including the designers of the ME-110. The airport and Messerschmitt factory staff. bloated rat with a criminal record past. . whom Himmler could easily lie to for the sake of national security. Hess’s former chief of staff. A black Mercedes would pull up and throw him in. But a little scare wouldn’t hurt. . Then he’d vanish. Like so many others. .The criminal. once the news broke of the Hess 70 . Himmler wished he could have arrested the entire Augsburg personnel too. Martin Bormann. For now. That was fine with Himmler. He’d be Number 1 on a future list. by the Fuehrer’s orders. had taken over all of the Deputy Fuehrer’s former duties. A great and wonderful X by Bormann’s name. The German people were now saying that a crazy man had been second to Hitler. Himmler was accountable to no one. But that would be going a bit too far. a country under British control. Felix Schubert’s family were wiped out secretly on May 13. . one day .

X . X.flight to Scotland. ... and burned into the sand. X. Number 25. .. Aunts and uncles in the family were bound and drowned.. doused with gasoline. Age was of no consequence. Only Schubert knew that name. within forty minutes of each other. Seven X’s. The BBC broadcast stated that he first gave his name as Captain Alfred Horn. every day since May 13. taken outside her home and axed to death. his mountain resort in Southern Germany... Himmler still wondered who the man in British custody was. Kidnap his syphilitic highness on one of his next visits to Berghof.” Himmler was now about to make contact with the American Embassy in Berlin. was bound in the middle of the night. In two separate incidents. and 71 . Or was it Hess behind bars? Or worse – both? Did one die? Did both die? How much do the British know? With the Hess assignment taken care of under “Crimes against the State. . Nieces and nephews strangled. Schubert’s wife.. More X’s. lit. X .. Schubert’s married daughters. . their husbands and their children were all shot through the head in their living rooms. His latest plan to rid Germany of Hitler was sound. Even so. Mutilated bodies of relatives and in-laws were piled near a lake shoreline.

He would be the master spy of the super intelligence network that would devour the others. Hitler was too naive. Found them too double-hearted. The biggest X of all . counterespionage. the mighty Fuehrer himself. The details were sealed away in a letter that Himmler would courier to an important American official close to his Ambassador. . The various organizations and agencies of the Third Reich would fall under his control. Heinrich Himmler. . the air-raid shelters. Him. With Hitler out of the picture. He didn’t trust them. The grand Fuehrermaster. spying meant everything in the grand scheme of things. He would demand absolute obedience to the state. Himmler could easily confiscate Berghof and make use of the huge compound. his useless wall maps. his messy chocolates. Spying was his lifeblood. **** 72 . . . and the other outbuildings for the good of the Gestapo.whisk him off to Switzerland. The state in one word would be . and spying was of little importance to him. a letter that was presently tucked in a safe inside his first floor office at Gestapo Headquarters there at 4 Prinz Albrechtstrasse. But to Himmler. He hated spies. The German Secret Service headed by Admiral Wilhelm Canaris was one such agency destined to fall. less than two hundred miles west. Adolf Hitler. the Gestapo leader would be the most powerful man on the continent. the residence. No more of the Fuehrer’s pathetic birds. Espionage. Canaris’s days were numbered.

Why not? I am Rudolf Hess . But he called me Schubert. I am the Deputy Fuehrer . . They bowed. I am Rudolf Hess . . She should. lifting his head. because after every meal he felt a warming sensation on the nape of his neck. He walked across the floor. . He was confident it was the food. She was surprised to see him. wrestling with the throbbing in his head. They saluted. once she knew who he was. I know the Fuehrer’s innermost thoughts. sat. They treated him with great respect. But she knew who he was on sight. closed his eyes. . and there was nothing he could do about it. He knew the British were trying to drive him mad . The one who came to my cell. Falcon. They clicked their heels.Camp Z Prisoner Z lifted his head and chest. He remembered a submarine trip. and put his head on the table. . Then by Reichsfuehrer. . The Englishman told me the same thing. He read it in her pretty face. then his entire body off the bed. . It was a struggle. Where was he going? The sailors and officers were calling him Reichsfuehrer. I am the Deputy Fuehrer. Or is that my name? 73 . They knew who he was. pretending he was on his feet. . Who told me? The Englishwoman. He was trying to confuse me. He stiffened to attention in the chair. They told me I did. the dark-haired woman on the beach called him by a codename.

I know the Fuehrer’s innermost thoughts. “Yawohl. “Come. **** Gestapo Headquarters Himmler peered up from the lenses of his pince-nez. I am the Deputy Fuehrer. looking straight ahead.” The agent walked up and came to an abrupt halt. I am grateful for your speediness in receiving me.” Himmler instructed his adjutant. Don’t be shy. “Herr Reichsfuehrer. Come closer.” Schmidt stepped in and saluted the man with the smile and thin moustache in the black Reichsfuehrer SS uniform. “Heil Hitler!” “Heil Hitler.” Himmler wrote the time of Schmidt’s arrival in the date book.” “Show him in.No. Herr Schmidt. “Herr Reichsfuehrer. He stood and saluted. . that it made you leave the sanctity of your beloved Lisbon?” Himmler beckoned his visitor. clicking his heels. “What do you feel is so important. “Then leave us alone. arm out like a ramrod.” 74 . Herr Reichsfuehrer. Sieg Heil! Sieg Heil! I am Rudolf Hess . In a shaky voice. Some recent information has come to my attention that I felt I had to report to you in person. he said. Hans Schmidt is here. .” The adjutant bowed. He ignored the dizziness and the discomfort of the cast on his left thigh.

. you. And the difficulty for me to say what—” “Never mind the speech. I said Hess was pronounced crazy by the Fuehrer and that we are the masters of—” “Never mind what you said. Herr Reichsfuehrer .” The agent clicked his heels. controlled shockwave hit Himmler. Totally ridiculous! You booked a Lufthansa 75 . What did he say?” “He said there was turmoil in our High Command. .” “You must .Himmler folded his hands over his desk papers.. . Herr Schmidt. “Go on. Herr Reichsfuehrer. “He said that he was deserting the sinking ship. . . He said that . . “That’s what he said. “What!” The agent stepped back. his eyes piercing..” “Have what? Spit it out!” “Have aspirations to oust Adolf Hitler and be the Fuehrer yourself. “Hess?” “Yawohl. . and smiled. Of course. “A British Secret Service agent in Portugal approached me and said there’s been . . He said it came from a good source. .” “What about the fool?” Schmidt licked his lips before going on. rumors since Hess’s flight to Scotland. have . . understand the unpleasantness of it.” “I’m surprised at you! That is ridiculous. I’m a busy man. . He jumped from his chair and stood face to face with Schmidt. some .” A sudden. .” Himmler felt a twinge in his spine. Schmidt! Tell me what it is. have.

his eyes frightened. Herr Reichsfuehrer. Do you understand me?” 76 .” “Yes. “No one.” “You didn’t see any papers?” “No. He did not. They will try anything to turn us against each other.” Schmidt shook his head violently. “I realize that. no. I did feel obliged to inform you of it.flight and came all that way to tell me that! I wouldn’t do any such thing to the Fuehrer. Herr Reichsfuehrer. Never! It is ludicrous to even think of it.” “I forbid you to discuss this outside this room!” “Yes. I—” “Don’t you realize how utterly stupid you sound? We’re at war with these people. Herr Reichsfuehrer.” “What was his source? Did he have documentation? Any confirmation?” “Well . and large. Herr Reichsfuehrer.” “How very interesting. Never. Ignore these Englishmen.” “To anyone! And avoid any similar situations at all costs. Don’t you see what the British are trying to do? They are desperate. Herr Reichsfuehrer. . .” The agent winced. I would never do anything to the Fuehrer. You went on his word? The word of an Englishman?” “Well. of course I knew that—” “Have you told anyone else?” “Oh. no.

” Himmler stared into the agent’s face. Herr Reichsfuehrer. “What does he mean by that. outside of intimidating him. Schmidt was another matter entirely. But he had to. They made a fool of you. I am sorry to bother you. Herr Reichsfuehrer?” “Nothing!” Himmler exploded. inches away. “Heil Hitler.” Himmler showed him the door. Herr Reichsfuehrer.” “As you say. Schmidt. He was too valuable. “Very well. I will not. Himmler had disposed of Geis over the Hess mission.” “Yes. yes. He couldn’t snuff 77 . stabbing a finger an inch from Schmidt’s face. “Nothing at all! The British don’t know anything. “Well!” “He said that they know what we have planned for the Jews. He had been forced to do nothing to Schmidt. He let Hess get away in a substitute aircraft. arm outstretched. Schmidt clicked off an arm salute.” Schmidt’s voice was barely audible. Are you going to let them do it again?” “No. Of course. How dare you! Dismiss. And don’t listen to any more silly rumors. Herr Reichsfuehrer. Return to your duties in Portugal and make yourself useful. Herr Reichsfuehrer.” Looking relieved. But there is one other point that the British agent brought up. “Heil Hitler!” Himmler swung around.Schmidt nodded. “Yes. you are. Go. the bumbling imbecile.” Himmler turned away. He blinked once.

Besides. Any good cover had to be at least close to the truth. the elegant dining room. to surprising his parents in Rochester with a visit. Donovan had told him. Two days had gone in a flash. On the way to the hotel. Government business. from his White House briefing with the President on the status of Great Britain and the Hess mission. he had stopped in at a book store and noticed an English translation of Adolf Hitler’s Mein Kampf. It was spacious. Hollinger was impressed with everything. tossing his fedora into a chair. **** Montreal.him out. Back home. and a huge double bed. Quebec.S. He couldn’t kill them all. with a large window. and the wide dance stage on the top floor. From what he had seen of the other parts of the city’s plush hotel.” Hollinger said to himself. man. he took a long bus trip over the Canadian border into Montreal under the cover of official U. Behind the 78 . he found time to play some tennis with his younger brother. It was in this case. Today. they could be testing others. including the fancy lobby. Canada The Kid checked into his room at the Mount Royal Hotel that evening. “This is living. if the British were testing one German agent. heavy gold-colored drapes. and check out two of the girls he remembered. and flopping backwards onto the soft bed. Hollinger bought it.

” A thick-set man in his thirties. tie.” “Stick close.” “Lead the way.” “Why not?” 79 . here. Montreal women that he had seen so far weren’t too bad.counter stood a blonde woman. The Lend-Lease observer. white shirt. wearing dress slacks. She was pretty.” “It’s OK. like Robbie. I like it. Especially the blondes. So. “Come in. The woman had smiled and he smiled back as he took the book and the change. “Can’t do anything in a hotel room by yourself.” “Yeah. Come on. New York. A knock at the door sprang Hollinger off the bed.” Hollinger told him. You’re my pilot.” Waden lit a cigarette.” They shook hands. “I’m Wesley Hollinger. Pleased to meet you.” “Where you from?” “Cincinnati. “You Hollinger?” “That’s me. and a leather flying jacket entered. He found he was always thinking of Roberta Langford now. Ohio. you’re the government man. “Quite the place. You’re American.” Hollinger said. though. “Larry Waden. Don’t get into any arguments with Frenchmen. amused at his own cover. The pilot looked at Hollinger’s well-cut suit. The door’s open. We’ll show you the spots uptown. You?” “Rochester. aren’t you?” “You got it. Nice legs too. Larry. that’s right.

“They don’t like this war. They say it’s England’s fight.” “Sounds like our own country.” The pilot caught the irony. “Yeah, guess you’re right,” he smirked. “Be careful, just the same.”

The Peel Tavern was a favorite haunt for Royal Air Force Ferry Command aircrews. Laws were different in Quebec. This was an all-male establishment. No women in Quebec pubs. Here at the Peel one could buy a quart of beer for two-bits, and pick from a forty-gallon drum of oysters on ice. The rest of the pilot’s crew – the co-pilot, the navigator, the radio operator – had already started their drinking. Waden made the introductions, amid the smell of liquor, oysters, and thick cigarette smoke. “Coming along for the ride, are you?” the American co-pilot asked, draining his drink. “Sure am,” Hollinger said. “It’s your butt, buster. By the way, that a fake diamond or what?” Hollinger glanced down at the ring on his finger. “This? Ah, it’s nothing.” “Like shit it is.”


Dorval, Quebec – August 2
the Kid and the crew rode the dawn shuttle bus from the Montreal hotel over twenty miles of mostly wideopen country to RAF Ferry Command Headquarters at Dorval Airport. After a greasy ham-and-eggs breakfast, Hollinger followed the men to the briefing, then to the tarmac where he observed with interest the pilots performing the all-important visual on the aircraft that reminded him of a turtle with wings. Other crews were lined far down the tarmac with their own aircraft, performing the same ritual. The air temperature was cool, in the low sixties. Larry Waden and copilot, George Bridgewater, checked the outside of the B-24 Liberator first. Walking completely around it, their alert eyes searched up and down the odd-shaped chunk of four-engined, American-built machinery about to be flown to England. Engine leaks? . . . Cracked glass? . . . Rivets loose? . . . Tires ok?...

Waden stomped his cigarette on the asphalt, and helped the crew manually spin the four huge props by hand to circulate the oil inside the walls of the engines before start-up. “All aboard!” Waden groaned, finished with the outside inspection. Hollinger grabbed his baggage, and followed in tow. But when he took his first few steps in his bulky flight gear and boots, he tripped and fell, catching himself before he dropped flat to his face. The crew laughed. Hollinger picked himself up and stumbled red-faced through the fuselage opening into the bare metal interior. “Come on up here, Hollinger,” the radio operator said, trudging towards the cockpit. “Throw your stuff right there, across from my station.” Hollinger looked around. No chair. Only a corner. His home for the several hours to Gander, Newfoundland. Oh well, he had to make the best of it.

Adam Eiser eased into the soft sand, allowing the hot sun to beat down on his already-tanned body. It was part of a well-deserved rest between assignments in South America. North Africa was next. Land of Rommel, the Desert Fox. Now there was a man Eiser wanted to meet.


Eiser leaned to one side and through his dark sunglasses saw a Spanish woman with deep brown skin walking along the water’s edge. He flipped off his glasses for a better look. She was attractive in her blue, tightfitting, one-piece bathing suit. Her hair was long and dark, reminding him of the women in Brazil. Earlier, she had been with a man. He was gone now. Who was he? Husband? Friend? Lover? Would he return? Did they have a spat? A lover’s spat? He watched her stroll the length of the not-so-busy beach, finally disappearing on the other side of the rocky bend. Eiser lay back, his sunglasses on. He heard the soft flip-flop of thonged footsteps in the sand. “Adam Eiser?” Eiser turned to the voice, his eyes falling on an out-ofshape man with a barrel stomach, brown blazer, white slacks. No tie. His puffy face was blotched-red and sweaty. “Maybe. Who might you be?” “The German Embassy sent me to find you,” the man panted, out of breath. “You found me. What now, old boy?” The man removed a white envelope from an inside blazer pocket. “A communiqué for you, sir. From Berlin. I suggest you answer it promptly.” “Dear me. Is that so?” “Yes.” The fat man shuffled away, heaving with each step. Flip-flop. Flip-flip. Flip-flop...


Hollinger watched, standing at the rear of the cockpit, admiring the pilots’ skills. Waden stuck his head through the pilot window and cried “Clear” to the fire guard posted below. Then he held up one finger on his right hand, to signify he was going to start number one engine – the port-outer – first. “Ignition?” Bridgewater’s right hand went for the four switches on the copilot’s right. “On.” “Prime number one?” Bridgewater depressed a switch on his right, then released it. He did that four times. “Number one primed.” He gave his pilot the thumbs up. “Start number one.” Bridgewater hit the starter until the 1,000-plus horsepower Pratt & Whitney 14-cylinder radial engine cranked, threw out a healthy belch of white smoke, then fired up. Once it began running, Waden quickly brought the fuel mixture to the required auto-rich. Bridgewater shut the booster pump off and eyed the oil pressure gauges ahead of him, just below the windscreen. “Oil pressure coming up,” he shouted over the engine thunder. Waden nodded. Waiting until the engine ran smoothly at 1,000 RPM, he called out to start number two. In minutes, all four engines were running. Hollinger could barely hear himself think with the high84

powered engines buzzing the metal around him. The crew were now on intercom. Waden checked the flight indicator and the directional gyro. Next, his eyes fell upon the instrument gauges... Oil pressure... Oil temperature... Cylinder head temperature... Fuel pressure... Carburetor air temperature... Tachometers and manifold pressure... A call to the tower confirmed the radio check, altimeter setting and time. The wheel chocks were removed. Waden pulled the mighty machine away. He edged the aircraft to the end of runway two-eight, and turned it into the wind. “Auto rich. Brakes set,” Bridgewater said over the intercom. “Props?” Bridgewater checked the high RPM and governor limits. No problem. “Running up the engines.” Waden started with number one by advancing it until it reached 2,000 RPM. Bridgewater watched the magneto setting, as Waden cracked the engine wide open. The manifold pressure climbed. He pushed the supercharger slowly open until the desired manifold pressure rose. He and Bridgewater followed the same procedure for the other three engines. “Superchargers are set and . . . locked. Gyros . . . set. Wing flaps twenty degrees?”

The cop-pilot’s left hand reached between the two men. “Wing flaps at twenty degrees.” “Doors and hatches?” The navigator flicked on the intercom. “Closed.” “Cowl flaps?” Bridgewater set the flaps to the trail position of ten degrees. “Booster pumps?” “On.” Bridgewater contacted the tower and cleared the machine for take-off. Waden turned to his side and gave the thumbs-up to Hollinger. Hollinger nodded. Time to head back to the radio compartment for the take-off. “This is it, gang,” Waden announced over the crackling intercom. “Gander, here we come.”

Outside Eaglesham, Scotland
Wing Commander the Duke of Hamilton poured a glass of wine from an expensive decanter for his uninvited visitor at Dungavel Castle. The last time the two had spoken face to face was at a membership meeting of the Anglo-German Friendship Association in London in 1937. “Why can’t anybody get near him?”


“Security,” the handsome RAF officer answered. “The Prime Minister said, in no uncertain terms, no interviews, no snapshots, no movies of him.” Stephen Jordan rose from his chair in the Duke’s study, and gazed gloomily upon the lonely moors through the open window. Hamilton watched him. Jordan wondered if he had driven all that way north for nothing, wasting what the newspaper people tagged a “gas pass.” He probably wouldn’t get another chance to misuse the gas-rationing system quite like that for some time. “According to the Glasgow Daily Record, Hess asked for you after he crashed his plane. What did he really want?” “Nobody seems to know for sure,” Hamilton said. “What does it have to do with you?” “I want to see him.” “What for?” “Interview him.” Hamilton’s eyes were locked on Jordan. “Not bloody likely.” “We’re not being told everything about this flight. I’m looking for – what do they say in court – the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth? Who was he trying to reach, Douglo? A VIP or two?” “Don’t Douglo me. It doesn’t matter. It’s over.” “Then you know who he was trying to contact?” “No, I do not.” Jordan grunted. “This is not some isolated incident. I think the man might be an impostor.”

“That one’s made the full circuit. Don’t listen to such lies. I saw the bloke. It’s him.” “Are you positive?” Hamilton held back. He wanted to say that he remembered Ivone Kirkpatrick’s words after he had made the official government identification – that’s not Hess. Kirkpatrick said the prisoner was too thin, too old, too dumb, under great stress, a poor speaker. Hamilton shook it off. He didn’t care if it was Hess or not. The man had caused him enough trouble. “Of course I’m positive.” “But you never saw him before the tenth of May, did you? It said so in the news release.” Hamilton paused. “That’s right, I never saw him before,” he admitted. “Then you can’t be so positive.” “What’s your point?” “You have some clout in London. You can arrange for me to see him.” “Nonsense.” “But why did he try to contact you?” “I haven’t the faintest idea. It has absolutely nothing to do with me. Two weeks after the flight, Sir Archibald Sinclair cleared my name in the House of Commons of any wrongdoing in the matter. Remember?” “So noted. Yes, I do recall,” Jordan relented. “Then you’re not about to help me?” Hamilton wanted nothing more to do with Falcon, Operation Night Eagle, Dunampton, Maryhill Barracks, Simon Brenwood, Hess, the Haushofers, and the blasted

Anglo-German Fellowship Association. “I want to forget that Rudolf Hess had ever come here. You had better forget him too.” “Is that a threat?” “Take it however you want. You wasted your time coming here.” Jordan understood. “That seems obvious.” “I shouldn’t worry anymore about Hess, if I were you. For your own good, leave it be. Now if you’ll excuse me, I must attend to some RAF business. I will see you out.”

MI-6 Headquarters
Langford saw the black Morris from the Whitehall concrete steps. Her friend was on time. Fancy that. She had never known an RAF officer to be late for anything. They looked at everyday life with an ETA approach – Estimated Time of Arrival. She walked to the parking lot and returned his smile with one of her own. He was waiting for her, passenger door open. Always the perfect gentlemen, he was. “Hi there, flyboy. I don’t have much time. Let’s go.” “I know just the place for a working girl,” he said, through the window, shutting the door for her once she was safely inside. He could use a good lunch, Langford wanted to tell him. And many more. And some extra dinners thrown in too for good measure. Her friend, Alex Nevin, was a skinny, light-haired flight lieutenant, a Hurricane pilot

from a London-area fighter station on a twenty-fourhour leave. He had four official kills in the Battle of Britain in 1940. She knew he was serious about her. Too serious, too soon for her, although they had known each other for years, growing up in the same east-end neighborhood of London. Nevin started the motorcar and put it in gear. In less than fifteen minutes, they were inside a small pub that – according to Nevin – served the best black market pork chops in London. As was his habit, he had reserved a table. He was a thoughtful, organized gentleman. Over a scotch-and-soda for him and a bitter for her, he talked. She listened attentively, shoes off. She nodded at the appropriate times. Except when he came to what was really on his mind. “I could be facing a transfer.” “When?” “A month or two. Longer, maybe. There’s talk of a squadron movement.” “Where to?” “Scotland. Banff, to be exact.” “Banff! You might as well be at the North Pole.” He chuckled. “Not quite. But they say you can see it from there.” “When will you know?” He shrugged. “Oh, one way or the other, in the next few weeks. Maybe. We’re keeping our ears open. Will you miss me?” She had to think about it. She smiled. “Of course I’ll miss you.”

His hand slipped into hers. They lapsed into a silence. Langford felt uncomfortable. Yes, this was getting serious. “So, my dear, how was your morning at the secret society?” he asked. “None of your business.” “You’re a mysterious woman. Are you ever going to tell me what you do?” “Only under a threat of death.” “Yours or mine?” “Both. Don’t press me.” A waitress drifted towards them, awkwardly balancing two plates in her palms. “Here comes the pork chops. Am I hungry.” “There you go, lovies,” the waitress said, plunking the plates in front of her customers. Langford smiled. Nevin’s plate was a double-order. “Good grief,” she said. “Where on earth do you put it?” “Oftentimes, I have to wonder myself.”


New York City
Aris faced him at the counter inside the moderatelybusy Kerr, Chapman & Company bank first thing in the morning. “I’ve been expecting you. Come right this way, Mr. Smith,” she calmly said to the man, opening the waist-high, wooden gate for him. “Thank you.” “Your paperwork is ready to sign, sir.” A stack of files under her arm, she led him down a long hall, past a male employee, and into one of the boardrooms. She snapped the door lock inside, and turned over the Filberg file. “Make it quick,” she said, coldly. “We only have twenty minutes.” “Right.” Smith spread out the blank sheets on the polished table. He reached into his briefcase for a threeinch square red filter and a 35mm camera, and ran the filter over two of the pages. He grinned. “Ah. Perfect!” Aris folded her arms, and stood by the door. “What is it?” “See for yourself.”

She bent over the table beside him, just enough for him to catch a view of the top part of her cleavage through the collar opening of her white blouse. Then she withdrew, realizing what he was looking at. “Why don’t you tell me, instead. I didn’t bring my reading glasses with me.” He returned to his work. “Just a minute. I need to locate the first page.” “Yes, you better.” Red filter to his right eye, he brushed his way through the papers until he came to page one. “Just as I had suspected. It’s a loan. Twenty million, dated July 28, this year. No time to read, though.” “Yes, take your pictures and move on.” Smith placed the filter onto the lens and crudely taped it in place with black electrician’s tape. Then he carefully snapped off each of the six pages in the file. He looked over at Aris. “I think we just pulled the irons out of the fire.”

Camp Z
Henry and Vern were new to the job on Monday of that week. This mild afternoon they assisted Prisoner Z with his awkward stroll through the mansion’s garden. Half-way into the exercise, the prisoner had to let go of their shoulders to ease down on a stone bench. It was just too difficult with his left leg in the cast.


Felix Schubert sat, dreamily, his mind playing tricks on him once more. The flowers and the stone steps of the gardens passed before him. He squinted in the sunshine. Glossed over the bright colors was a blurred image of The Duke of Hamilton. Schubert was at Maryhill Barracks again. Scotland. Spring, May 10th. He looked up slowly. “I saw you at the Olympic Games in Berlin,” he said, his voice frantic, shaking. “You lunched with me and my wife, Ilse. I don’t know if you recognize me – but I am Rudolf Hess. I am the Deputy Fuehrer.” The two guards exchanged curious glances. “Here we g-go again,” said Henry, the younger guard, the one with the stutter. “I think he’s t-t-talking to you this time.” “Of course . . . you’re Rudolf Hess,” Vern said to the prisoner, holding back a grin. “You don’t believe me!” Schubert snorted. “I brought proof of my identity.” “I believe you. Really, old chap. I believe you.” Schubert faced Henry. “And you must be Kirkpatrick. May I leave now?” “Sorry, old top. Y-You can’t.” “I want to leave now. I came in good faith, on a mission of peace. What am I doing here?” “Let’s g-go back to your room. I’ll phone London.” “Who in London? Who will you speak to?” “Churchill.”


Schubert’s outlook brightened. “Yes, Kirkpatrick. Phone London. Talk to Churchill. Please convince him of my good intentions. I have come in peace.” “C-Come with us now,” Henry pleaded. “You look tired, Herr D-Deputy Fuehrer.” “Yes, I am. But, please, please help me.” “We’ll help you,” Henry said, taking Schubert away. A short time later, Henry and Vern were in the hall on the second floor. A low-flying aircraft buzzed overhead. Four days on special duty at Camp Z, and they had seen and heard strange things. Still, their orders were explicit. Keep Prisoner Z isolated. No visitors were allowed unless cleared through the proper authorities. His health and comfort had to be assured. He would have food, books, writing materials and a typewriter available to him. He could walk around the garden perimeter as much as he wished. He liked to walk, although since the accident it was too hard for him to get around without assistance. For several weeks he had been forbidden to receive any news of the outside world. But that had been lifted shortly after his accident. He now had the London Times delivered to him every two days. “At least he s-stopped asking us if he was the real HHess or not.” Vern frowned. “Yeah. Wonder why?” “He’s harmless, I suppose. B-B-Barmy, but harmless.” “And getting worse.” “Right you are,” agreed Henry.


“He’s an odd one, he is. If he’s the second in command in Nazi Germany, then maybe the rest of those Nazi blokes are just as bad.” “Or w-worse.”

Near Greenland
“PILOT TO CREW,” the pilot announced over the intercom through his headset. “YOU CAN COME OFF OXYGEN. HEY, JACK?” “WHAT’S UP, SKIP?” the radio operator answered. “SEND OUR STOWAWAY UP.” “YOU BET.” The radio operator tapped Hollinger on the shoulder and pointed to the nose of the bomber. “The boss wants to see you.” Hollinger removed the oxygen hookup, and crawled on his knees towards the cockpit, where the engine noise intensified. How could they stand the racket, he wondered? At 8,000 feet, the cloud cover dispersed, and the sun broke through. Out of the port glass of the Liberator, Hollinger saw his first glimpse of Greenland. It was merciless country. It definitely wasn’t green. From a number of miles out, it appeared to be one big, black rock, with fiords and glaciers stretching out from the shoreline to meet the water, like branches on a tree. “THERE SHE BE, MEN,” Waden said over the intercom. “GREENLAND. KEEP AN EYE OUT FOR GERMANS.” Hollinger overheard. “Germans? Out here?” he yelled.

He was an approachable man about fifty. ‘Tis foul weather it is. “Condors. They refuel subs too. son. nodding. his lips barely moved. thin patch of gray on his head.” “Really?” Waden nodded. He soon struck up a conversation with one of the counter patrons. Before they come and hit our supply ships on the way to Britain.” the man said. The Germans are supposed to have a weather station out here somewhere. red-faced. Jack Buford. Right about here. Germans that close! **** Near Firth Of Forth The modest stone-walled country pub in the land of kilts and bagpipes was milling with afternoon customers.“You better believe it. “It’s funny. Stephen Jordan felt like the foreigner that he was. “Newspaperman. “Ere comes the rain. When he spoke. downing the last of the ale in his glass.” 97 . eh?” Buford puffed on his pipe. being the only man in the place with a suit and tie. weather-beaten Scottish fishermen and farmers.” “How do you know that?” “We picked up a signal on our set last month.” Waden shouted. The story goes that they send daily radio reports to Berlin. there has been some mighty peculiar things around here.” Hollinger was taken aback. Yeah. a relaxed middle-aged group of thirsty. “Some long-range aircraft of theirs have been spotted on occasion.

The inn shook from a blast of thunder. “Look what the wind blew in. “Hello there. shaking the rain off. Yeah. thank you.” Charlie replied. “Where was I. Hurt himself bad. “Medicinal purposes?” “You bet. one of the radar technicians at Edinburgh – his father comes round occasionally – was told that the plane wasn’t to be touched. To fix it up. The man was elderly. yeah. lightning rolled across the sky. in particular.” Buford lowered his voice. People talk. “Oh.” “Really?” 98 . How’s the shoulder?” Out of the side of his mouth. son?” “No. he said to Jordan.Jordan glanced at the nearest of the windows. That strange Hess flight.” Buford laughed. Charlie. “Just how peculiar?” Their attention was diverted to a man arriving through the main door.” Buford chuckled. What about the Hess flight?” “The story is that the moment that plane was tracked.” “What about it?” “You want some more ale.” “Thought I’d pop in for a few pints. in faded work clothes. “He slipped and fell off the dock in a rainstorm two weeks back. son?” “The peculiar things around here. Buford eyed the old man setting himself down across the bar. cheerfully. Outside. No. You hear a lot of things in a country pub. wet and dirt-streaked.

but she was a body nonetheless.” “That a fact?” “He’s sitting just over there. In trench coats. son. Bennie Warner’s his name. Like you.” “Can you vouch for this?” “Can I! I know the man who drove them out.” 99 . “Two men threw a body into the Firth a few miles from here. I often wonder what that Hess fellow really was doing here. there was. Maybe that Nazi-loving sonof-a-bitch Duke of Hamilton fellow or someone higher than him. “Really. They rented a boat one afternoon and took to the Firth. “Please. son. maybe. It’ll put hair on your chest. Do you remember anything else odd?” “Yeah. That’s what I said. What else?” he said.Buford nodded. Buford looked around. son. anxious to get on with it. It was in a crate. What else?” “Try a stout. You sure you don’t want another pint of ale?” “I’m sure. “A body?” “Yeah.” he whispered.” “You and millions of others. or something or other. A body.” Jordan hated stout. Safe passage.” “What two men? What did they look like?” “English.” “A safe passage? Who has the power to do such a thing?” “I can’t answer that. Who knows? The Secret Service.

Buford made the introductions. about the crate. not to blab it?” “I know.” “What good is a promise from a newspaperman? What do you mean you won’t print it? What are you here for?” “My own satisfaction. He had finished his third drink and was on his fourth rolled cigarette.“Where?” “The one in the corner. He quickly ordered a round of drinks. what about that crate?” the writer asked. and they threw a crate in the water.” Warner belched. Jack. Warner looked Buford’s age. “Now. The three sat down together. Bennie.” “Didn’t I tell you.” They got out of their seats and crossed the floor. “But they threatened me. “What’s to tell? Two men I never saw before paid me to take em into the Firth. by himself.” Jordan answered. “Just want to tie up some loose ends. Come on over. 100 .” “Come on. He promises not to print anything. They don’t know where to find you. “Tell him Bennie.” “What kind of crate?” Jordan asked.” Buford urged his friend. Laddie. “Buy me another bitter and I might be forced to loosen me tongue. and no one said another word until the filled glasses were brought over.” “They won’t do anything.” That was good enough for Jordan. but this Jordan fellow seems to be all right.

it was a German body?” “How the bloody hell should I know.” Buford said. anything like that. one of the gentlemen said.” “So. If she was a corpse. toasting his bitter with the men. Bout the size of a coffin. mister.” Jordan pulled out two business cards and gave them to the fishermen. 101 . make sure they aren’t. ‘So long. They paid me good. I promise not to print anything. “Thank you. “I didn’t look at her. give me a ring in London.” Bennie replied.” “What did you do then?” “I steered em back to shore.” Jordan said. said there might have been a body in there. Mr. Kraut.“Long. and they told me to zip my lip. Laddie.” The three clinked glasses. “Cheers.” “Aye. I don’t make of habit of looking at corpses.” “Your friend. If you hear anything. You have my word. Buford here. “And me. “Or there be a great deal of trouble for me.” Warner sipped his drink. Your names won’t be mentioned anywhere.” “Me too. then drank. He was growing increasingly nervous.’ The other one with him told him to shut up. But when she went over.

sliding under the nose glass. his oxygen plugged in and checked periodically by the radio operator for possible failure. . The crew were anxious to touch ground.CHAPTER EIGHT West Coast of Scotland Islands disappeared a thousand feet below. 102 . Larry Waden nosed the Liberator into a long descent over the massive shipbuilding activity south of Glasgow for their stowaway to set his eyes on. loomed straight ahead through a smoky haze.” Waden said to Hollinger standing behind him in the cockpit. the final stop for RAF Ferry Command. banking the aircraft. Hollinger dozed in the radio room. next stop. The Scottish Lowlands. They were tired. Then another. roaring over Glasgow on a southwest course. cold. “Prestwick. Most of the way. hungry. He called Prestwick tower for an altimeter setting and landing instructions. One Firth of Clyde trawler came . heading for the open country. Once they made landfall at the Scottish coast. and went. . and had to use the washrooms something fierce.

“Wing flaps twenty degrees. Waden bent down right. Hudsons.” At 135 miles per hour. Throttling back to 155 miles per hour. Mixture?” “Auto rich.” “Booster pumps?” Bridgewater hit the switches. and locked. He stepped back to the edge of the bulkhead and sat down. DC-3’s. The aircraft shuddered and creaked for a moment. “Wing flaps twenty degrees.” Waden informed the copilot.” “Wing de-icers?” “Off.” the copilot replied. “Props?” “Twenty-four hundred.Hollinger had to smile. Hollinger saw other ferried aircraft lined up at dispersal. 103 . “On. It was in this area of Scotland that Felix Schubert had been shot down and forced to bail out three months ago.” “Wheels?” “Gear down . Prestwick suddenly poked out of the mist. . A good sign. . “Landing gear down. Waden dropped to full flap. Liberators. pressing the landing gear lever. head on his knees. the concrete runways of Prestwick airport were clear for the landing.” On final approach.” “Intercoolers?” “Open.” “Cowl flaps?” “As required.

The left side quickly crumpled under the strain. Dazed. the aircraft spun completely around to a full stop. “I’m going. jolting from his seat. The undercarriage had collapsed! The Liberator pulled to the right. onetwenty-eight. These guys knew what to do. and get your ass outta here!” he yelled. Full on her belly now.Bridgewater called out the speed. his head coming to rest at Waden’s boots. followed by the nose wheel. “One-thirty . “Everybody out!” Waden released his straps. Hollinger was unconcerned. while the horrified crew could only watch and ride it out. . screeching across the concrete. Then it all happened so fast.” 104 . The pungent smell of gas suddenly dominated the cockpit..” The runway reached up for them. “Get up. tripping over Hollinger. The main gear hit the runway with a strange thud and the right side of the aircraft crushed to the concrete. pulling Hollinger up with him. Hollinger leaned on an elbow and sniffed. Lucky for them. He turned around. nearly knocking himself out. throwing the crew to the right. the other two props clanged to a dead stop. Then the two starboard props clanked to an ominous standstill. . The Liberator slid sideways onto the grass. Hollinger banged his head against the bulkhead. The pilots knew they were in a pickle.. By then. Hollinger was thrown across the deck. Waden and Bridgewater powerless to control the direction of the aircraft.

I came up to give you a lift to London.” “No rest for the wicked. Hop to it. They managed to get forty feet in the clear when two explosions. What a schedule. “What are you doing here?” “Change of plans. It was the Judge. today. Three hundred miles and a debriefing with the Prime Minister. after midnight. **** Prestwick Hollinger felt a shove in the ribs and opened his eyes. to the middle of the aircraft. Churchill awaits us. The men leaped out. hell. a second apart. what. and yawned. Winnie wants to see you. glowering down at him. leaning on the suitcase he had used as a pillow. The radio operator kicked open the fuselage door. “What the devil are you lying about for. colonel?” “Get up. “Run!” Waden cried.” Lampert ordered. “What gives? We won’t get to London till. pipe in mouth.” “The Big Guy? Today?” Lampert nodded.” Hollinger looked at his wrist watch. How goes it. badly in need of a shave.” Hollinger slid off the bench inside the airport. bunched together as one. rattled their eardrums.” 105 . He looked awful. “Thought I’d catch some shuteye. “Yes. hurtling them to the ground. He rubbed his face.The men scrambled. stretched. Wesley? There’s work to be done.

And 106 . I remember.” Outside.” Hollinger replied. it was rough.” Hollinger sighed. let’s go.” “Never mind. I brought along some sandwiches. Time is of no consequence to Winnie. sir. Prisoner Z at Farnborough.” No one spoke for several minutes. sir.” “What happened?” “The undercarriage snapped on landing. Lucky for us. You should know that by now.” “All right. He hated how the English always understated things. A little too much. Lampert lit his pipe. “I heard it was a wee bit of a rough landing. We could have been fried if we hadn’t gotten out in time. There was nothing left to salvage. they piled into Lampert’s Austin and began their long drive south. colonel.” Lampert reached down for Hollinger’s bag. Before long. He never sleeps.” “Yes. “Do you recall that newspaperman I spoke to you about? Jordan?” “Yes. “From the Daily Telegraph? The one who’s been writing Churchill to see . He’s been asking questions around the area we dumped Hess’s body. Come along. What did he do now?” “He’s snooping.“Doesn’t matter. They figure the locks malfunctioned. rolling down the passenger window part-way to allow the smoke out. “Not so fast. only the navigator had a few scratches. . . “Yeah. I’m hungry. We’ll eat along the way.

“Incidentally.” “Interesting. he had gotten into the habit of doing the crosswords in the London Times. I’m asking for a volunteer before I pick you?” “Special duties.he tried putting pressure on the Duke of Hamilton to pull some strings for him.” “Swell. “Thank you. sir.” “No.” Lampert asked. And how’s Donovan?” Hollinger sighed.” There was another long pause. Wesley. He can mix a great martini for breakfast.” “I’d advise you to take some additional weapons training. “By all means. lad. “how did you get on with the President?” “You’d like him.” **** 107 . “Oh. Always coming up with something or another.” “An interview.” Hollinger sighed. I saved you the crosswords. I’m too busy. “But don’t do them on company time.” “Is this leading to something?” “We’ve commenced a twenty-four hour shadow on him. is it?” “Correct. he’s still thinking up a storm. sir.” “Tell me. He had no choice and he knew it. I bet?” “Precisely.” Hollinger grinned. Of course not.” While laid up in the hospital back in May and June.

What would happen should we go to war with Hitler? Would this mean an end to the contract?” Donovan didn’t answer for a long time. I heard a few things during my 108 . sir.Washington. “Thank you. “I shudder to think. Now we know that Kerr. You must be briefed on some details.” Donovan spun slightly in his office chair. seeing that it was in their file. – August 3 Donovan smiled. “Nice work.” “Yes.” Smith said. But she sure as hell turned some heads in that New York restaurant yesterday. sir. “We owe it all to Aris. what I’m about to tell you can’t leave this room. What is it?” “You’ve stumbled on a can of worms. left then right.” “Yes.” “I don’t doubt it. seated across from the powerful man. “There it is. sir.S. Filberg.” COI Director Colonel Donovan looked down at the photos in his hands. Chapman & Company is dealing outright with the Nazis. when she was your secretary. can you?” “No you can’t. How is she? Still as beautiful as ever?” “I don’t know what she looked like before. we presume. A twenty million dollar loan to a German ball bearing plant. Aris. He was pleased with Smith’s photos.C. D. and through the parent German company. reading. I.” “You mean it might not?” “Smith. Can’t conduct a war without ball bearings.

days as a Wall Street lawyer. Also on the board is Charles Mitchell of the Federal Reserve Bank of New York.” 109 .” “Well. Or I should say I don’t want to. and get this. Loeb are mainly Jewish.” Smith folded his arms. Why would the Nazi’s go to them? Why not some of the larger outfits?” “Maybe the others weren’t playing ball.” “Somehow.” Donovan shrugged. and none other than the man who put America on wheels. I saw things. What do you know about I. Smith. Loeb & Company. Henry Ford. eh? I’ve heard of them. with strange bedfellows.” “Who?” “Paul Warburg of Kuhn. a third or a quarter the assets of the big Wall Street banking houses. Filberg?” “It’s a German munitions conglomerate. You know.” “Yeah. “Henry Ford! I don’t believe it. I can’t really see that. sir?” “Kerr. Chapman is only a small Wall Street banking firm. small in comparison to the others.” Smith froze to his chair. hang onto your hat. Did you know that they have an American Board of Directors?” “Are you serious?” “Perfectly. boy. when you consider that Chase Bank in Paris has been operating wide open since the Nazi occupation last year. Kuhn. “What. Loeb.” “It’s true.” “Kuhn. I don’t get it. This is the world of high finance.S. At least. a fairly large Wall Street investment house. “Probably.

Most of the board of the directors on Kerr. But I thought the Nazis hated Jews.” Donovan set the photos down on his desktop. Chapman?” “Vincent Chapman? Met him a couple times. Smith. Chapman. “Sir. William Chapman. A Nazi sympathizer. Supported Hitler since day one. Keep in touch with Aris and me on a regular basis. too. And the strange thing is.” “Yes. Furnishing the Nazis with loans. from what I can recall.” “Fancy that.” “You mean Aris will. he’s Jewish too.” “With a name change. 110 . sir. Banking ran in the family. Lots of it. Keep that under your hat.” “I guess not. she’s our key.S. “You bet it has. what do you know about Aris’s boss. Chapman are Jewish. Federal Reserve in 1913.“It has?” Donovan nodded.” “Meanwhile. Weird fellow. damn it. His uncle. isn’t it?” “I’ll say it is. What gives?” “They got money. and so promptly.” Smith sighed.” “Thanks for coming. Ironic. Vince. Anyway. we had better keep an eye on Kerr.” “Is he now. was one of the founding fathers of the U. these Jewish bankers here couldn’t care less what the Nazis did and are doing to their own people in Europe. I know that through our agents in France.

” “Happily?” “Yes. “And remember. Smith..then jumped out and yelled. He waited. The prodigal son returneth. Aris is married. a box in his arms. would be on his way to his Atlantic conference with Roosevelt. “Wesley! Oh. Roberta Langford was always in a hurry. dropping her papers. she’s too old for you. head down.. beautiful. Churchill.Smith stood.” “What did you do that for?” “Aren’t you glad to see me?” 111 . A twohour private audience with the Prime Minister and a three-hour sleep were behind him now. chewing gum. He set the box by his feet and hid in a doorway.” “She sure don’t look it. Tomorrow. “Freeze!” Langford screamed. sir.” **** MI-6 Headquarters It was still as hot in London this Saturday as the day he left. her quick trot echoing in the corridor. “I will. well briefed by the Kid. Besides. Hollinger turned a corner and there she was coming his way. you.” “Hi. Hollinger threw his hat on the desk in the Whitehall office allocated him in early July.” “Goodbye. monster. and took to the corridor.

gently. By the way. Rather becoming. “There you go. Don’t you sleep?” With one look. touchy.She gasped for air. I did.” She put a hand on her hip. “Nice outfit. down on the sides and back.” he said. “Thank you. Fancy. You know.” She curtsied. “At your flat. broad-shouldered jacket with matching skirt. and high heels with round toes. “Under the circumstances. yes. I saw your new title on your door. Didn’t I. too. “Do you now?” He observed her dark-green. “Have you done something to your hair? You tied it back. you look ghastly.” He laughed. Besides. I like it better the other way. Executive Assistant Enigma Operations. up in the front.” “Oh. I’ve been so busy. I’m ready for that dinner you promised. “What dinner?” “Remember. the day before I left?” He leaned on the door frame.” “You think so?” “I do. he gave her the impression that sleep was unimportant. She had on a trace of lipstick and makeup. I forgot.” He helped her pick up the papers. Too matronly.” “Only when called upon.” “But the hair has to go. her hand to her chest. no. But the Colonel said you still work for me. “How the hell is a guy supposed to rest around here when he has a debriefing with the Big Guy at three in the morning?” “Touchy.” 112 . Sorry I asked. folding his arms.

” “Don’t like the menu?” “Just kidding.” Hands in his pockets. “For me?” “Yes. “Security reasons. Special delivery.” She smiled fully. On second thought. I could mosey on over tonight. you’re cracking. OK. it is. You like me.” She shook her head and looked down at the floor. “But I’ll have to break a previous tentative engagement. Silly me. “I can never get mad at you. Honest. “Atta girl. What do you say to kidney pie and Yorkshire pudding?” “Oh.” 113 . I was just about to put it on your desk. I’ll be working late.” He bent down to lift the box.” “Sorry.He nodded. I’ll try and force it down. for you.”‘ “Then break it. “A package came for you. “Don’t look so enthused. I’m holding you to it.” “Don’t be too sure about that.” She perked up. “What’s that?” “What’s what? Oh. deep down inside.” “Incidentally. he said. rocking on his heels. Is that all that’s left in England? Organ meats? Next thing you know I’ll be eating haggis. You know. that. I didn’t want the enemy to know who you really were. I wish you hadn’t put Redhead on an official trans-Atlantic cable.” Hollinger laughed.” she sighed.” “Tomorrow?” “Tomorrow. letting loose with a slight grin.

some fresh oranges.“If you’ll excuse me. how’s the cold?” “Fine.” “The Jewish problem. a small bottle of French perfume. Shan’t be long. It’s almost gone. “Yawohl.” When Langford returned to her office. **** Gestapo Headquarters Spy master Heinrich Himmler did his best to stay cool and collected when the Fuehrer telephoned from the Russian Front.” “You’re welcome. She pulled at the wrapping tape and opened the flaps. What a sweetheart Hollinger was. She pushed her anxious hands through the contents – three pairs of silk nylons. mein Fuehrer. Bless him. When he wanted to be. a tin of American coffee. The commando squads are following orders and performing admirably. and different shades of lipstick. Thanks for asking. the box was on her desk. Be right back. now. five packs of Wrigley’s chewing gum. I have a report.” “By the way. Hollinger was nowhere to be found. I’d better take the papers to the colonel. how is that coming along?” 114 . Her eyes bulged. the likes she hadn’t seen since 1939. In the land of rations and scarce commodities these were a gold mine of treasures. six Baby Ruth chocolate bars.

“How is our Fuehrer. “Why the delay?” “It is taking some time for the logistics.” In a few moments. “Yawohl. the bidding. just tell Hitler what he wanted to hear.“The special camps will be running at full capacity. by the end of the year or early next year. mein Fuehrer. For now. Herr Reichsfuehrer. The Filberg organization says it’s an instant kill.” “Ask Herr Eiser to return at once.” “Yawohl. you might say. Organizing the prisoners into staging areas for transport.” “And the chemical? What is it called?” “Zyklon-B.” **** Himmler hung up.” “Speed it up! There is no place for the unfit. Hydrogen cyanide crystals. 11:15 – spoke with the Fuehrer on the Jewish problem. mein Fuehrer. “Yawohl. The 115 . the paperwork and the blueprints. Herr Reichsfuehrer. and then we have construction of the units.” Himmler wrote in his date book.” Adam Eiser dared to show a ragged smile. mein Fuehrer. and pressed the intercom. Himmler knew the cocksure agent wouldn’t be a pushover like Schmidt or Geis or the others. Himmler stared at his resummoned visitor. Merciless. Herr Reichsfuehrer.” “Worried.” Himmler knew that to be a lie.

all the while going straight to Himmler – by his own initiative – and reporting to the Gestapo leader on everything he was telling Canaris. ice-gray eyes was too clever for that. Anyone who could outsmart Admiral Wilhelm Canaris. Canaris had no choice. 116 . Eiser had guts. He was making a very decent living as a “specialist” in a market that catered to his talents. the German Secret Service chief. Himmler admired snitches who worked for him. A mere mention of his intimate relations with known Berlin prostitutes – the evidence in Himmler’s Gestapo dossier – was the convincing factor. He was fond of inflicting pain and death. Himmler convinced Canaris to let Eiser jump to the Gestapo without letting Canaris know that he was the one being spied on the whole time. Eiser had been handed what some would consider a thankless assignment. Recruited by Canaris in 1940. six-foot-four. He was useful. and get away with it he had respect for. Canaris was the one who forgot to cover his own tracks. He took risks. and had his own unusual code of self-preservation. He worked for money and the Nazi ideals he had cherished since his teenage years. He had acquired the necessary data needed to report to Canaris. and that was to spy on the German Intelligence High Command based in Berlin. thirty-five-year-old agent with the unblinking. He took the jobs no one else wanted or could do. Eiser was a smart snitch who covered his tracks.flamboyant. Himmler’s file on agent Eiser was clear. He was one of the few men Himmler respected.

a well-deserved month’s vacation to the Riviera. Hats were popular where he was going. . Nothing could be done about the eyes and deep voice. Much better. An interested rich party. Eiser looked too Nordic. You will confine your activities to—” “England?” Himmler nodded. Filberg.” “Who. “What exactly did you have in mind. light hair. high cheek bones. “I like them already. if you don’t mind me asking?” “I. The first job . Herr Eiser. .” “The business cartel?” “The same.” Eiser’s eyes gleamed. But the long. 50. Herr Eiser. backyard job.” 117 . prominent jaw. The first one is your old stomping grounds. All expenses paid. He’d have to start wearing a hat.000 pounds sterling in your Zurich account. “Yes.S. And I’ll throw in a bonus.” “What is the second?” “I’ll get to that. He studied Eiser’s features to confirm his evaluation. After these two. . Herr Reichsfuehrer?” “Two jobs.” “Germany?” “You are reading my thoughts. A new donor has stepped forward. and Roman nose could go.” “I thought you might.The Reichsfuehrer-SS wiped his pince-nez clean. The second a .” “The usual fee?” “Better. .

” “Why is that. For the first assignment. Herr Eiser. and a perfect cover for you. falsified papers. I have a plan. a new identity. I wouldn’t get very far.” Eiser didn’t speak for several seconds. Herr Reichsfuehrer?” “Certainly. “I know that too. I hear. she is. wouldn’t you say?” Himmler smiled. Herr Reichsfuehrer.” “I know that.” “May I be so bold as to ask why you want him dead.” “Who?” “The British.” 118 .” Himmler smiled.“England? Germany? Highly unusual.” “But he’s in British custody. Herr Eiser. you will be in and out.” “I’ve heard of her. naturally. “Yes.” “What exactly is my job?” “Kill Party member Rudolf Hess. I understand. And she’s pretty too. as if he asked the question every day. Someone could have inserted an ersatz Hess. “Yes. “Kill Hess?” he said. Herr Reichsfuehrer?” “You’re only contact will be our agent Denise. The person in custody may not be the genuine article.” “And I’m a wanted man in England. You know Hess. No radio communication with Hamburg once you are there.” “Yes. Probably guarded like no other person on all the island.

S. While you’re there. I know someone who will help you in your identification of the Deputy Fuehrer when the time comes. The first meeting was in the Chancellory.” “Yes. Don’t worry. Briefly. I have to send you somewhere. Hess was tall. Herr Reichsfuehrer. He was clever. isn’t he?” “So the German radio and newspapers say. . wore a meticulously-cut uniform with the shiniest black boots. suspicious of anyone too close to the Fuehrer.. slim. Takes only seconds to work. “Yes. I must know one way or the other if the man in Churchill’s hands is Hess or an impostor. a specialist.” Eiser sat up. Filberg so suddenly interested in Hess?” “It doesn’t concern you. at the Chancellory. But first.” “I see. Twice.. Herr Reichsfuehrer?” 119 .” “Kill him?” “He’s crazy. to see . I met him.” “I thought you might. But. .” “But what?” “That was some time ago. Herr Reichsfuehrer. December.” “Where. kill him anyway.” “Very good. he dies. Either way. bringing Party Member Hess to mind. How will I kill him under the English noses?” “Lethal injection. Will you still take the first assignment then?” “Of course.” Eiser considered what he was up against.Eiser folded his hands in front of him. “Why is I. “What if he’s the real Hess?” “Simple enough. cool. 1939. Clear enough?” “Yes. or me for that matter.

000 Russian aircraft. In the first nine hours of the attack. and within a week ninety percent 120 . he had single-handedly captured enemy soldiers at gunpoint. In silence and solitude over his wide map of the Eastern campaign. more than twenty years later. directing the war against his hated Communist enemy. East Prussia His First World War Iron Cross reflected the strong indoor lighting. and mineral water. His Blitzkrieg forces were advancing swiftly into the heart of the Bolshevik empire. his fortified bunker close to the Eastern Front.” Eiser said. coupled with precise radio communication was a well-oiled machine. For onehundred thousand pounds.” They stared at each other.” **** Rastenburg. “I see. armor. In 1917. the one he had worked the hardest for. his forces destroyed over 1.“A trip over the border. Adolf Hitler began to consume his light lunch of raw vegetables. and infantry. “Kill the Fuehrer?” “Oh no. bombers. The decoration was the one possession he was most proud of. “What is on your mind. Just kidnap him. The network of fighters. he found himself spending most of his time here at Wolf’s Lair. yogurt. Nothing like that. Switzerland. Since the attack on Russia. Herr Eiser?” “What does my backyard job entail?” Eiser laughed.

David Lloyd George. All Europe was his. It was a tactical bluff to lure England to sign a peace pact. There was no point to invading England. Both had visited Germany and Berghof. Hitler’s deepest innermost thoughts were directed at the British. His heart ached. Hitler snickered. . .of their front-line aerial strength. Lloyd George should be in 121 . Now they were interfering with his plans for expansion. He ordered the panzers to hold up at the beaches to give time for the British to surrender and ink a peace deal. He allowed the miracle at Dunkirk to take place. and the Duke of Windsor were Hitler’s favorite Englishmen. He had introduced a radical change in tactics in which air power was the key. They were numskulls. Speed! Lightning war. England fought the Battle of Britain bravely. He couldn’t understand why they were still fighting him. and declared their unquestionable admiration for the New German Order. They were poking their noses where they didn’t belong. It wasn’t any prelude to invasion as Churchill had bellowed in his broadcasts. Speed! . Churchill – he is the one who’s poisoned their minds. not the British. Speed! . and Britain had better stay out of it now. . . like the world had never seen before. Hadn’t they read Mein Kampf? Had he written it in vain? Bolsheviks were the German enemy. It was so useless. They didn’t sign. Britain’s Prime Minister during the Great War. They escaped. They were supposed to be his blood brothers. Although Russia was his prime target. but stupidly. But they didn’t talk.

It was all going to his plan. There would be no mercy on them. it didn’t matter. Tops. Five months. his fingers crinkling the blinds. He was already a quarter-way there. **** MI-6 Headquarters Hollinger stood at his Whitehall office window and faced the car lot. 122 . you nincompoop. Hess. Then total capitulation. who had refused the latest generous offer of concessions. Hollinger watched every one of her graceful moves. not his brother George VI. Only unconditional surrender. Hitler hammered his fist on the table.power. He was counting on a twenty-week campaign to finish off Stalin’s forces. not that Jew-loving Churchill. Churchill’s pawn. She kissed the officer lightly on the lips and climbed in. the Fuehrer had decided. Whether the British and Russians had intercepted the plans for Operation Barbarossa or not. If the world only knew what he – the Fuehrer – was willing to give up! Hitler now had to trounce the Russians to bring England to its knees and make peace. furious that his peace offer to Churchill was thrown back in his face. No negotiated peace. A beaten Russia would sign. Hitler reflected on Hess and the ill-fated flight. It was the only way now. And the Duke should be on the throne once more. Through the slit he saw the RAF officer open the car door for Langford.

Langford. A year ago this would not have been possible. In the States. But damn. What did she see in the schmuck? At least he had good taste. they kissed. And he did for a time. He was falling for a redhead.The two drove off into the light surface fog.” he mumbled. And a redhead who smoked! “Some guys have all the luck. too. Was the Englishman the previous engagement she would have to break? Hell. 123 . Why her? There was no denying it. The nerve of her. She was probably wearing the nylons he gave her. sleepyhead. No great catch on her part. closing the blinds and returning to his half-finished crossword. He closed the blinds. cursing under his breath. With the lipstick he had bought her in Washington! How long had this relationship been going on? What a rail he was. he thought he could forget her. after all the jokes he used to make about redheaded women. But seeing her again brought back the fervor. though. He yawned once more. Hollinger yawned. Wake up. Hollinger was taken by Roberta Langford. Then he thought about something.

Sunday started out quiet for Shean. she had been growing rich off the Second World War by banking for the Germans. and had remained that way ever since. 124 . following the end of the Napoleonic Wars. She had declared herself professionally neutral in 1815. the Munich Special jerked into the train station. although it didn’t stop them from exporting a major portion of her goods to the Third Reich. and France. and radios. The Swiss deplored the Nazi tactics. he was on the lookout for any unusual activity or irregular sort of people in the country that had come to be aptly named as Spy Alley. Western countries called the Swiss ‘cynical opportunists’ and ‘renegade Germans’. David Shean was there to greet it. typewriters. Switzerland was a small country wedged between the borders of Germany. and surrounded by a natural barrier of mountains. During off-hours. a Mondaythrough-Friday salesman dealing in telephones.CHAPTER NINE Zurich – August 4 With a clank of wheels and a hiss of steam. Italy. By 1941.

Six blocks from the station. They had a long-standing nickname for him – Acid Man. He was in his thirties. cold eyes that first pinched a nerve in Shean. his eyes searching the storefront windows. Shean expected it both times. Meanwhile. Shean was surprised to see Lancer slip through the revolving glass doors of a ten-story office building. carefully. A crowd was always a good cover. Hitler had a thousand agents in Switzerland. The Swiss had a favorite saying: “Six days a week we work for the Germans. two or three inches over six feet. He had a memory for such things. No hat. Twice Lancer turned. The Americans and the British also had hundreds of their own agents in the country and they used their respective embassies for communication channeling. On the seventh day we rest and pray for the allies. Brown hair.” This Sunday. hundreds out of the ranks of the Gestapo. What the bloody hell was Lancer doing here? Shean tucked his newspaper under his arm. It was Lancer. nonchalantly. Metal elevators were 125 . and merely kept walking. slowly. Shean saw an interesting man step onto the sheltered platform beneath the white-crossed Swiss flag and amble his way into the forest of bodies. Shean kept him within sight at more than forty feet back. The sidewalks were moderately busy with morning traffic. But it was the brutal. took to the street on foot and followed the man. No mistake.Germany criticized them for being a haven for Jews and Marxists. On a Sunday? Shean followed. No one was inside the lobby.

**** MI-6 Headquarters.straight ahead. As was the custom. Want some?” 126 . colonel. Wrigley’s. “Spare me a few moments. Colonel Lampert’s secretary would always promptly serve the first tea of the day at 10:30. looking across the room to the framed pictures of Churchill and King George VI. Margaret?” “Yes.” “Sure. London Sunday at the office wasn’t any less busy than any other day. Shean grunted. No one was on the stairs to the right. An organized mess. He lit his pipe and the sweet smell of pipe tobacco filled the air. would you please. sir. sagging from the weight. the colonel’s spacious office contained stuffed bookshelves. I wish to have a word with you.” “What’s that in your mouth? Gum?” “Sure is. No movement by the numbers overtop. Any instructions?” “Tell him to see me here. When she arrived exactly on time. He had lost him. Hollinger appeared in under a minute. Immediately. Lampert said to her. “Ring Hollinger for me. Wesley.” “Right away. From the good ol’ USA. Lampert waited patiently. Files littered the floor.” Content with his tea.

If you say so.” “Keep on him. and Schmidt’s subsequent flight to Berlin. Or goes out for a few bubblies. I think I hit the target a couple times. “What’s the matter?” “Never mind. Goes to work.” Hollinger lifted his foot and stuck the gum to the side of the shoe. sir.” “Yes. goes home to his wife. “How’s the shadowing?” He took a swallow of the tea. the pistol that had been his companion of late was visible.” Lampert then walked Hollinger through the SimsSchmidt discussion in Portugal. How did you do at the firing range?” “Not bad. or somebody else’s?” Hollinger laughed and sank in a chair. “Jordan’s a good little boy.“Certainly not. I don’t want any gum chewing in my office. “Oh. We’re feeding information to those close to Himmler. grinning. “Yes. then goes home to his wife. sir. cracking his knuckles.” Lampert demanded.” “Yours. beneath a bright desk lamp. Nothing out of the ordinary. Maybe we can spark a sudden turn of events that will 127 . We want to isolate the Fuehrermaster. “Winnie named it Operation Decoy. Get rid of it. for the love of—” Hollinger glanced up. I think we’re wasting our time. Lampert had two files on his cluttered desk. based on the Schubert’s peace papers. monitor his reaction and see whether the information will climb the ladder. strapped to a chest holster under his jacket. Hollinger shrugged.

A Yank in the RAF. “His codename is Lawrence. how about that. I saw it.” “Ordinary codename. Betty Grable.” “You heard of him?” “No. Good man.trip up the upper echelon of the regime. Hey. “Look at this. Better yet. It wasn’t very good. “His name is David Shean. MI-6 out of Zurich. if you would. “Yes.” Lampert frowned. “Take a look. in his forties. the name.” Hollinger muttered. You know. Say it fast and it comes out like atomizer.” The American read the tab in the top corner. It’s just . The American saw the photograph of a man with a receding hairline. You know what I mean?” “Wishful thinking.” Lampert moved a file towards Hollinger. Comes highly recommended. . laying it open for him. . Lampert took the file back and gave Hollinger another.” “Who do we have here?” Hollinger asked.” “Why should it?” “You never know.” “OK. I prefer Clark Gable.” “To each his own. Perhaps cause some infighting or topple it. I hope it doesn’t backfire on you.” 128 . dragging on his pipe. Switzerland.” “He’s rather keen on Lawrence Olivier movies. Maybe his parents didn’t like him. “Adam Eiser. turning the file his way.” He pointed at the picture.” “By whom?” “Me.

Something significant might be in the offing. A-Man. This man’s frightfully good and he’s dangerous. There are spies. He can get it to us in minutes. The best foreign agent the Germans have.” “How did this Shean get word to you so fast?” “A regular cable. A nickname someone in MI-6 had given Eiser years ago. ARRIVED BY TRAIN. right?” “I don’t kid. Shean saw him in Zurich. Eiser was in South America.” “You think someone sent for him?” “Yes.” Hollinger took the sheet from Lampert’s hand. Even if a neutral technician is blackmailed to tap the cable.“Please. Codenamed Lancer.” “What’s unusual about that?” “Last we heard. Eiser is the latter.” 129 . Our agent even changed his codename a tad to Larry. Plain-language code. LARRY “What does Aman stand for? Is that a misprint?” “A hard A-sound. It took awhile for it to register on me. A-Man is undoubtedly short for Acid-Man.” “You’re kidding. HEAD OFFICE SIX FOUR. It’s highly possible because he’s worked primarily for the SD.” “An uncoded cable? Why?” “They’re quick and easy. An uncoded transmission is above suspicion if it looks innocent. MI-6 has a man at our London cable office. Then there are master spies. I’ll explain shortly. it doesn’t matter. which this is. This morning. AMAN IN TOWN. let’s get back to the file. shall we. Here.

The father’s nationality was the dominating factor. Eiser and Jordan knew each other?” “Yes. Eiser was an only child.” Lampert said. a dock worker. German father. The secret intelligence and security service arm of the Nazi Party. A one-time British citizen. Getting back to Eiser.” Hollinger flipped through the half-inch of paperwork. sir. British mother.” “Sorry. Stephen Jordan to the right. Born. Eiser’s in the middle.” “No kidding. run by Himmler. “Wait a sec. and gave Hollinger the data from memory.” Hollinger froze. they did. But an ardent Nazi. 1906 in Liverpool and reared there. “That was taken here in London in 1937. He’s of mixed decent. Mother 130 . Go on.” “Anglo-American Fellowship Association. “At an Anglo-German Fellowship Association black-tie affair. then German Ambassador to Great Britain.” Pipe in mouth. Lampert cleared his throat. eh? Did anybody in England not belong to that outfit?” “A few. until he came to a faded photograph of three men in suits.” “Who’s the cat on the left?” “Joachim von Ribbentrop. Their duties cover a wide range of internal surveillance and espionage around the world.“What’s the SD?” “The Sicherheitsdienst.” “Will you keep quiet and let me finish. drinks in their hands.

He was a man of many talents.died when he was ten. Volkischer Beobachter. spying. By then. He reportedly knew Hess and the Haushofers. He had girl friends. He made friends with British newspapermen and businessmen. followed by Himmler and the Gestapo and Sicherheitsdienst. Besides being illusive. schools that his father could barely afford. The British knew what he was up to from a source inside the German Embassy. with a certain flair for the dramatics. assassination. but dropped out of university after two years. muscle. He had vast contacts in Parliament and Whitehall. Always at the top five percent of his class. but never married. The father died in a work-related accident in 1930. he was an expert at explosives. He had high marks. fine music. 131 . he disappeared and wound up in Germany. He drifted from job to job. A real pro. They let him operate to see who he was making the rounds with. and collected lists of those sympathetic to the Nazi cause. His father never remarried. Eiser went to private schools. The Depression came along. offering his services to the Germans through their Embassy to spy on the British. For years he had made fools of the British. Adam was a firm believer in the National Socialist Party. Two weeks before war broke out in Poland. He had training as a doctor. Helped to distribute the English-translated version of the Nazi newspaper. A lone wolf. A lover of the arts – the theater. and a new career with Wilhelm Canaris of the German Secret Service. Joined the British Fascist Movement and the Anglo-German Association.

his nickname of Acid-Man and codename of Lancer.” “And he works for money. British-made dagger. he knew precisely where to strike. He had a distinct style of killing. But we’ve never been able to catch him. He would keep small steel capsules of hydrofluoric acid in his pockets and would throw them in the faces of his victims to catch them off-guard. He had worked mostly in neutral countries.” “A high-roller.” “I agree. A Nazi of independent thought. I’d say.espionage.” 132 . eh?” “Quite. almost as if he wants to leave clues. counterespionage.” Lampert said. Lots of it. The worst kind.” Hollinger flipped the file closed and slid it towards Lampert. Hence.” “My sentiments too. Usually paid in pounds sterling in a Swiss bank. Most ingenious. He incriminates himself. when he got the chance at close range. His weapon was a thin. He travels rather light.” “I hope I never meet up with him. but packs a wallop. then stab them in a main artery behind the ear.” “No doubt. The victims choked to death. and sabotage. “we always know where he’s been. “By using the acid and the dagger. common to female Secret Service agents. “It sounds as though he enjoys his assignments. Perhaps money will be the death of him one of these times. Due to his medical training. It’s a game he’s played with us for two years.

” “Same here.” “You too. “Not with what my government’s paying me. Shean 133 . Edgar Heinemann. watching a few faces come and go on this off-day. “Yes.” “And what about Jordan? It seems a coincidence that we’re tailing Jordan at the same time. huh? Just here for the love of it. a colleague of his in Brazil disappeared.” Hollinger joked. lad. Still no sign. Any significance or connection? Heinemann and Eiser pulling up stakes and moving out. the same week that Eiser is spotted. A mentor of Eiser for a time.” “SD?” asked Hollinger.” “Thanks.” **** Zurich Shean paced the entrance near the revolving door for the rest of the afternoon. MI-6 has asked Donovan and your COI for some assistance in that part of the world.“I’m glad I won’t have that to tempt me. I mean?” “I don’t know. codenamed Bradley. “Funny. They’d be closing the building in another thirty minutes. “Maybe. No sign of Eiser. don’t you think?” Hollinger asked. He just up and vanished. Five o’clock came and went.” Lampert smiled slowly. But thought to be retired. It’s worth looking into. Thought you should know this information. Lampert puffed on his pipe. Perhaps.

Shean’s footsteps echoed on the marble floor as he strode to the balcony above the entrance. “I ate it. “How did you like the kidney pie. You ate over half the pan. “I couldn’t stop. Then something finally registered. he found two names. She was ladylike and polite.” 134 .” “I thought you seemed rather partial to it. and waited on Hollinger’s every want. didn’t I. the Yorkshire pudding was delicious. there boss?” Langford asked. He glanced over at the building’s long directory in block letters on the wall board for the umpteenth time. But the evening wasn’t going well until she brought out the brandy and poured it into two crystal glasses. knew he was being followed. One was German. She and Hollinger drank and seemed to loosen up quickly. and threw his newspaper in a trash can. Under the heading of plastic surgeons. There was only one other way Eiser could have left. He smirked.” She blew out a perfect smoke ring. Seissburg. Shean raised himself to his feet.wondered if Eiser. Dr. by chance. and puffed. She lit a Player’s.” “I’m glad you had the decency to leave me a corner. Out the back. Langford was the perfect hostess. **** London At the flat. Anyway.

They looked good on her.” “Yes.” She sighed. “Well. I am. Londoners with unscathed houses and apartments like this one to go home to had been gradually ascending from the depths of the underground subway tunnels since the last attack on May 10. All right. one-bedroom flat was on the first floor in an unbombed area of London within walking distance of MI-6 Headquarters.He shrugged. “Is this relevant?” “Depends. “Fancy that. “Anyone ever tell you that you have nice legs?” Hollinger asked. She was wearing a white. Thought I’d try a new French brand that someone gave me. Flats were safe again with the Blitz over.” They retired to a long brocaded sofa in the small living room. silk blouse and stylish blue skirt that showed off her slim waist and shapely figure. He was not surprised to see that she had on a pair of the American-bought nylons. Three times. But who’s counting?” “You are one rather tactless man. You’ve told me. down on the sides and back. Hollinger watched as Langford kicked off her shoes and crossed her legs. The comfortably-furnished.” “Yes. Yes.” “On what? Don’t answer that. Her hair was up in the front. which was ideal for Langford. I had to. You changed your perfume. He liked the way she appeared. I think.” 135 . taking their brandy with them. You being the hostess and all.

“The President is in-the-know now. As the American talked. in the morning?” “Yep.” 136 . There’s something I can tell my grandchildren. he noticed Langford’s eyelids drooping and her forehead starting to crease. after a little threat. Roosevelt’s in a jam.” Hollinger answered. including the inside of the Oval Office. is he?” “Oh. About the impostor. We’re part-way there already. Then he got to the martinis. yes. “You had martinis with the President . in your case.” “Why do you say that?” “Because you’ve been to 10 Downing Street and the White House. If he goes too far in aiding Britain. And he has the full lowdown on the peace papers.” “Splendid. hobnobbing with Churchill and with Roosevelt.” “Schubert? Yeah. “I’m told the colonel says our prisoner is cooperating.” “You have to get married first. You really are precious. Eleven o’clock. . making her grin.” Hollinger went on to describe in detail the rest of the meeting and what he remembered of the White House. and he knows it. . Then again. he could be impeached for breaking the neutrality laws.He grinned. Will the German plans for domination make you Americans fight for us?” “Not that by itself. without the people’s support. yet.” “Maybe you will someday. probably not. I haven’t even met Churchill.

“Are you seeing anyone?” “Maybe.” “You’re not . thank you very much. “I dunno. . “Just asking. something like that. “Everybody does. you know. but you don’t look that well.” “I know I shan’t.” “He’s a nice man. . “More brandy?” “No thanks.” Her eyes burnt into his. Must you know so much about me?” “What about that beanpole of a flyboy?” “Then you do know?” She paused..” “Pregnant? Certainly not!” Her hand went to her hip. will you?” “Yeah.” Which means he’s boring as hell.” She massaged her temple and grimaced.” She attempted a smile. “I’m feeling a . It might happen.” 137 .” Hollinger pictured them kissing in the parking lot. .“I doubt it.” “Protect my virtue. Hollinger wanted to say. headache coming on. “That’s nice. Why little old me?” He shrugged. I know the evening’s still young and all that. Maybe I’ll relax and read a new book I bought. “Look. “He’s a perfect gentleman.” She gave him a slight smile. I’ll run along..” “Good grief! You were assuming. If he gives you any trouble. let me know. . The office is talking about it.” “He is. I’ll try and get you in.” He scratched his chin. “I hope he’s treating you well.

Mein Kampf?” “Yes. Ta. It was a deep mystery to him why he couldn’t get to first base with her. She liked to pretend she didn’t like it. boss.” “You’re joking.” “Oh.” As she began to close the door on him.” “Yes.” In the hall. she thrived on that.” “Why on earth would you want to read that?” She felt her forehead. ta. He stared at the chipped door. It’s what kept her charged in a man’s world. What the hell was it then? His flat was a roomy. I am. “I’ll see you at the office.” “I’m sorry if I upset you. They looked into each other’s eyes. I hope you feel better soon. Hitler’s book of bent ideology. really.“Which one?” “Mein Kampf. “I want to see for myself what he says in it. “Thank you. she said through the crack. “Hitler’s Mein Kampf!” “No Churchill’s. followed by Langford. Of course. I hope so too. one-bedroom on the fourth floor with connecting living room and kitchen. Hitler’s.” “It’s been lovely.” “Adios. Although only 138 . Was he too abrupt with her? Nah.” he told her. “Till tomorrow.” Hollinger stood.” She walked him to the door. Hollinger fumbled with his hat. you’re just saying that. Hollinger didn’t move for several moments.” “Ah.

like Roberta. If any woman could be an iron ass. 139 . So intelligent. opened the book to the first page. So outgoing. Like a mule. Hollinger shook his head. Strange. then curled into his chair with Mein Kampf. And not one to mince words. Then he met Roberta. She was really quite a knockout. Hollinger did exactly what he told Langford he’d do. she probably could be. and began to read. What a woman. it was in a better end of town and offered a brilliant view of the city on two sides. And so doggone stubborn. Pretty.two miles from Langford’s place. A brain. He thought back to the blonde counter woman in Montreal who sold him the book. He first put on a pot of strong American coffee. She was no pushover. that he didn’t like redheads before he came to England. Inside.

gray guns pointed across the Bay to the green hills beyond. After taking the oath in the midst of the Great Depres140 . he was the Assistant Secretary of the Navy. Newfoundland – August 9 The President inhaled the brackish.CHAPTER TEN Argentia Bay. In the First World War. the waves lapping against the hull. damp air. Gathered in a group of military brass and civilians. set to arrive in minutes. He relished the sea aroma this dull. misty morning at 0900 hours aboard the pitching deck of the American battleship cruiser USS Augusta. with a brown hat. Ready to receive the British Prime Minister. Roosevelt’s love for the open water continued unabated as the current reigning Commander-in-Chief. The President arranged himself in his wheelchair. he watched with the others as one to the east in anticipation of Churchill’s ship. Roosevelt had been in office eight turbulent years. and asked his son for a fill-up. The ship beneath him had been cleaned to perfection. cloudy. beneath a set of long. the President wore his leg braces over a brown suit. He drained his hot mug of coffee.

he had informed his nation. an officer spotted two ships steaming towards them. FDR’s goal was to prop America back on its feet again. “The only thing to fear is fear itself. Since 1939.sion. Thousands were standing in bread lines. He quickly became the President who people either loved to love or loved to hate. NRA. he was an outsider looking in. Roosevelt made bold strides in legislation to combat the bad times. TVA. At last. the President had been concentrating his efforts on the war. Farmers and city workers couldn’t pay their mortgages. that he had made government too powerful. But he knew that to convince the British leader of America’s sincerity might be tougher than any opposition the President had to face in implementing the New Deal. He spent billions on relief and public works programs. WPA. Government agencies shot up overnight. Trouble was. labeled by their three-lettered initials – CCC. 141 . Thousands of banks were closing their doors. He placed federal controls on business. But the common man adored him. Five thousand banking institutions collapsed the day before Roosevelt’s inauguration on March 4. one of every four workers was jobless. For the first six years of his administration. And he became FDR. Conservative-minded people said he had gone too far. He hoped that Churchill would understand that. CWA.” At the time. 1933. and Hitler’s attack on Poland.

the hum of their engines drawing closer by the second. 142 . Roosevelt set his coffee down. far bigger than the others. Just that May. his eyes moving up to his son. with gray camouflage that blended into the sea. the war-weary Prince of Wales had blasted the Bismarck to the bottom of the sea. “I wonder what Churchill’s like? Some say he’s a bully. dad. Then a fourth ship. holding to the rail with both hands.” the President said. HMS Prince of Wales. opposite Newfoundland’s shores. after two years of correspondence. cigar in mouth.” “Now where have I heard that before. and stood. The ship’s paint was peeling and parts of her showed rust. Her band aboard quickly struck up The Star-Spangled Banner. Roosevelt saw Churchill right off – short. They were destroyers. Someone pushed the wheelchair off to the side. Churchill’s fleet had been dodging German wolfpacks at sea for five days. dressed in Navy blue. The Augusta replied in earnest with God Save the King. They laughed. The President had made up his mind that he would not greet his long-distance ally sitting down. They both had to set up sophisticated screens to confer here. split through the three and chugged alongside the Augusta. supported by his son. Roosevelt and Churchill would finally meet for the first time.” Elliott Roosevelt said. causing the American cruiser to rock gently. squatty. Three ships burst through the surface mist. A host of men stood on the deck.“Looks like the British delegation now.

Lend-Lease. Earlier that day. they discussed the plight of the Soviet Union. for the sake of the military advisers and civilian staffs. Mother Churchill’s home country. At eleven hundred hours. Franklin Delano Roosevelt. It was more than plain to everyone concerned that Churchill had come not only as a leader.” Both ships anchored. Now it was time to be direct. Winston Spencer Churchill. Lord of the British Empire. A pleader in desperate need of munitions help. Roosevelt towered above the Prime Minister. This was history. Churchill stepped onto the Augusta. U-boat sinkings. but a pleader. As far as the American public was concerned. 143 . The British boatswain on the Prince of Wales cried out. A meeting of the political giants that cemented a kinship on the spot. Commander in Chief of the United States of America. IN THE PRESIDENT’S SUITE THAT EVENING. with a mutual friend – a bottle of vintage French wine. Flashbulbs popped. with his entourage. The two leaders shook hands for the photographers.Roosevelt had given the press the slip by dressing up a White House aid in white hat and white suit and sending him aboard the Potomac. the President was taking a well-deserved rest – a little R-and-R – near Cape Cod. “Fall in for entering harbor. the two giants were finally alone. seated around a table. landing craft – for the far-off day when Britain would invade the European continent – and current British-American relations.

” Churchill rolled the cigar in his palm. Good man. We’re finding out new things about him all the time. Hollinger.” Churchill laughed.” “What an idea! We should try something like that.“I’m impressed by your man. The two were able to make the same speech on the same day in different cities. Winston.” “More men like him would make Donovan’s job easier. that boy.” “The man you have locked up. that right?” The President puffed on his cigarette.” “Give him lots to do. besides his name? What is it?” “Felix Schubert. Two married daughters. . He has a wife.” “How do you know?” 144 . Donovan and I want to see what he’s made of. A truck driver sent by Himmler. what do you know about him. of use to both of us at the present time. “Looking for future executive material?” “Maybe. .” “We will.” “Or just lucky. cigar in mouth. “Quite so. “I’m sure it would have its advantages. wine glass in hand. He’s a washed-out Luftwaffe pilot. “Could be. Thanks to Hollinger. “He’s .” Churchill said.” the President said. Hess used him as his double in the elections during the Nazi’s rise to power. we realized we had a Hess double. He said Hess was seeking asylum.

Private German firms are bidding for the contracts to build the sites. The race is on. So we’ve been drugging him with truth serum. Run by the Gestapo. They mass murder Russians by the thousand.“Schubert himself. What about these liquidation squads in Russia? Are the facts right?” “Yes. They’re called Commandoes.” Churchill nodded.” “His papers are. swallowing a mouthful of wine. For the longest time. except for some as cheap labor.” “A hundred years!” “That’s the deal I made with those scoundrels who tried to deal with Hitler.” 145 .” Roosevelt looked grim. The atomic formulas or the death camps. he didn’t admit he was an impostor.” “Hollinger said the data was confirmed on the camps. “I don’t know what disturbs me the most.. “Yes.. they do exist.” The President’s voice trailed off. “It’s horrible just thinking about it.” “Do they know who you really have?” “Certainly not! And they never will!” “Where’s the real Hess?” “At the bottom of the Firth of Forth.” “Both frightening. I promised to protect their good names and all that rot.” “How long are you going to keep this Hess thing under wraps?” “A hundred years secrets stamp should do it. They have no tolerance for prisoners.

000 feet. Capable of carrying 10. First of all. A prototype will be ready in a year. I want to know one thing. there’ll be more death camps around the world.“The Nazis are mad. If we enter the war due to your collapse or for another reason. Stalin could do us a favor.000 miles at 30. I’ll have to hide our costs somehow. “I’ll answer your question in two parts.” “Indeed. Pressurized cabins.” Roosevelt smiled. our air force would be forced to bomb Europe from bases in Iceland and Newfoundland. This is a multimillion dollar project that will more than likely cost us well over a billion dollars by the time it’s all over. “In private. Congress would crucify me.” “I know. Including the Royal Family. I’ve said it all along.” “Or die trying. The biggest bomber ever.” 146 . your government would be welcomed in exile.” “With what? No bomber has that range. “Boeing is working on such a project.” “If the Germans beat us to the atom. The world’s first global bomber. When are you going to get into this ruddy war?” “We just can’t go and declare war on Germany without provocation. We need help. To work together on splitting the atom. Let’s hope and pray the Russians can put a stop to Hitler for us. The other is those atomic secrets. Winston. But that’s only one of our huge expenditures.000 pounds of explosives over 3. If England should fall – God forbid – then what?” Roosevelt regarded that.” Churchill said.

” Roosevelt nodded. “A false rumor.” The two greats were silent for a few moments. something else on his mind. “There are no such concessions.” “Is that so?” Churchill’s eyes bore into the President. Tell me about Hitler’s concessions.” “They can’t fight. it’s a favor. The President poured more wine for them. 147 . A sudden twinkle appeared in his eye. He stared at the American and said coolly. But they make damn good wine. “Scout’s honor.” The suddenness of the loaded question caught Churchill completely unprepared.“Either way. spread by the Germans.” Roosevelt wished he could believe his friend. “Winston.” “Scout’s honor?” Churchill raised his right hand. “Viva la France. our Embassy in Switzerland sent me a report last month.

148 . Hollinger had ordered his coffee black. Hollinger. “I need a wake-up.” he said.” “Let me think about it. and jam. “I got it. The windows were open. What’s another word for arrogant or overbearing?” “How many letters?” “Nine.” “When you’re not napping.” “Very funny. Only a few scattered chairs were occupied by the in-house male and female staff this Friday. It begins with an i. and selected a table opposite the cafeteria entrance. I take it?” “Listen. toast.” He rubbed his bloodshot eyes.” She tapped her fingers to her lips. margarine.CHAPTER ELEVEN London – August 16 They asked for coffee. “What’s the problem? I do them here or in the office. “When do you find the time?” Langford asked. Another hot day in London. Ends with o-u-s. He pulled out the day’s London Times crossword – half filled in.

” “How nice. he’s schizophrenic. But I got through it. “All right. He hates Jews. munched.” “Anybody could have told you all that rot.” She laughed. What did he say?” “Well.” “But some of the other things I found distressing... The International Jewish world of finance. and wiped her mouth with a napkin.” He folded the crossword up and put it away. OK. let’s not start anything.” “For instance?” She bit into her toast.” “What do you think of him now?” “For one thing.” “In particular?” 149 . He calls them the Jewish state.” He slurped his coffee. But nearly everything he stated in the book has come to pass. he has a pretty high opinion of himself.“What’s with you? Couldn’t sleep last night?” she asked. You didn’t have to waste your time reading his book. Fascinating stuff. “Sounds like someone I know. that’s for damn sure. he believes he is the one true German leader and his National Socialist Party is the one true party. the things that he had said he would carry out if he became Chancellor. “I stayed up reading the rest of Hitler’s book.” “Speak for yourself. It took over a week. “OK. granted he wrote the book many years before he came to power. “Must you be so noisy?” “Sorry.” “Once you sort through a lot of the political clap-trap.

yes.” Langford stared at him. He crossed his legs. On June 22. Peace-in-OurTime Neville Chamberlain. Two tables down. Besides. Hitler started making speeches about how oppressed the Germans who were living in Austria were and that Austria should return to the Fatherland. Then his army walked into Austria. this year. may I ask?” 150 . The Big Guy wasn’t holding the reins. dearie. Hitler said that if Germany required land. huh? And I think I only scratched the surface.“The Austrian-German Alliance. that also came true.” “So right. Otherwise. Amazing. Once in office. and neither England nor France did a thing to stop him. Too feminine. I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt.” “True.” “I did. He said he would eat the bread of the Eastern hordes.” “Next. I take it. a man about thirty sipped his coffee. I learned a lot more than you think. looking straight ahead. it could be obtained at the expense of Russia. “I need hardly point out that we had a different prime minister then.” “How. annexed it for the German Reich.” “You really got caught up in it.” He looked to the side. Hollinger hated it when a man crossed his legs. how could a man physically do it? “Well?” “It’s gets more juicy. it might have turned out differently.

and Holland – for a written promise 151 . I didn’t have to.” “You went deep into Hitler’s mind did you. Hitler is not planning to Germanize the world and take it over. Especially after yesterday. Donovan cabled me directly in our own personal code to ask me if I knew anything about the rumors of a crazy Hitler peace offer to the British through the German and British Embassies in Switzerland. “I’m all ears.“I never should have read it. He had heard that Hitler was willing to hand over five occupied European countries – France. Belgium. Norway. good grief!” “Listen. I did my homework.” Langford put her cup down. From this point on. Promise you’ll keep this to yourself. Contrary to what many believe. to dig that out?” “No. let’s keep our voices low.” “If you wish.” He took a deep breath. “Yesterday? What are you talking about?” “You won’t like it.” “Oh.” “Promise?” “I promise.” he mused. Try me?” Hollinger downed a mouthful of coffee. heaving for a breath. Should I want to tell anybody?” “Yesterday. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” She leaned to one side. Her face was a mask. “Now get this. I read it in his book. Denmark. “Really.

” “Rubbish. his one ally in Europe – England. getting back to Hitler. what he’s always said in Mein Kampf. I wouldn’t believe a word of it. he would need an ally.” “To conduct such an undertaking against Russia. You’ve heard of him?” “Yes. He’s using them as leverage to get what he’s really wanted all along.of a truce with Britain and the promise of a free hand in Russia. He was Hess’s Munich University teacher in the days after the First War.” He grinned wolfishly. then. Hitler’s always wanted to expand east. my lady. Your precious England.” 152 . “I wish I could. what did you tell Donovan?” Hollinger dwelled on what was sticking in his craw – Roosevelt’s words. It’s just a rumor. How do we know the British aren’t holding anything back? “What could I tell him? I never heard of any peace offer.” “Anyway. Think about it. It’s all part of the Geopolitic vision for Europe. Russia!” “The book again.” “Professor Haushofer’s teachings?” “That’s the fellah.” “Don’t get cute.” “Not necessarily. breathlessly. you know what else he said in his book?” “I’m waiting. You’re pulling my leg. He never wanted the other countries.” “He’s kept his word. So.” “So. his eyebrows bouncing.

you don’t know a snitch. “Yeah.” Hollinger leaned forward. Or something along those lines. sure.” 153 . The Blitz stopped the night Hess landed in Scotland to talk peace.” “Take this into consideration. A peaceful coexistence.” Waving his hand.” “Yes.” “Shit. Hollinger added. in the first person. There was a great and mighty future in an alliance with Britain. He signed a non-aggression pact with Stalin in 1939. Hitler invading England across the Channel. as you might recall.” “How well I remember. For the most part. With his western flank protected he could then move east on a great Germanic march. Hitler’s too tied up with Russia. “There would be no sacrifice too great in winning England’s willingness.” Langford said.” “I beg your pardon?” “You’re believing your own propaganda. He doesn’t have the guts!” She wiped her mouth.“What the devil!” “He said it. I do. huh? I doubt it. For a smart person.” “Something like that. then attacked him two years later.” “Balderdash. he’s always craved an understanding with the British. “It could still happen. “Hitler’s word isn’t worth you-know-what.” “You seem to suddenly fancy yourself as an expert on Hitler’s motives. It’s right there in black and white. He’s bluffing. He’ll do it to us too.

I . . “You might say that. He’s lied to Roosevelt this week at the Atlantic conference aboard some rusty old ship. to Roosevelt. a friend – of yours was pushing you into something that you are too blind to see on your own?” “Is this a hypothetical situation?” she asked. They set me up. A damn stool pigeon for His Honor and the Big Guy. of course. . What are you trying to say?” “Churchill let Barbarossa happen to keep the Germans busy in the east.” “Go on. . And to Stalin.” he retreated. .” He shook his head. when she had been trampled on and had miscarried. taking some time to get in gear again. You know. “My eyes are open. “Forget it. And I fell for it.” “He’s lied to us. to Donovan. you know. They sent me to the White House to soften up my own President. He’s lied. I bet you two bucks to ten that the Big Guy never told the Russians about Operation Barbarossa. Hypothetically. Robbie.Hollinger fell silent for a moment. And now he’s deliberately drawing my country in this war. What if. let’s say. To me. How do we 154 . come to think of it. “Sorry. you found out that a so-called ally – no. didn’t . May 10th was the night she had been caught in the Luftwaffe raid on London.” “Mere conjecture. suspiciously.” Hollinger heard again his President’s voice. “Listen.”‘ “What are you saying?” Hollinger hesitated.

At any rate. Hollinger. That’s 155 .” She backed off a touch. We’re both sworn to the Official Secrets Act. “It’s not only the book. “Let me remind you that you are working with and for us. Mr. Don’t forget the peace rumor out of Switzerland. and you came up with this. I heard that Hitler had every chance to annihilate your forces at the Dunkirk beaches last year. Bordering on treason. On loan. “One week of reading. “The only way to fight Hitler is with another Hitler.” “I know this isn’t the best thing for British-American relations. until her eyes narrowed at him. And there’s no sign of any German invasion fleet. Your own countrymen. He wanted to sign a peace pact with you. You have no proof of anything.” She looked around at the few faces in the room.” “I bet you do. however. my dear. Donovan. As a cipher analyst. And another thing. Roosevelt. I haven’t been doing much of that of late. But let me remind you we are still hypothetically neutral in this war. “So? Everything you’ve said is circumstantial evidence and is dangerous talk around here.” Hollinger grunted.” Langford was livid.know the British aren’t holding anything back? “You know what people are saying about Churchill?” “What is that?” Langford wanted to know. Washington. feel that way. the COI. But he didn’t. And I march to the tune of different drummers. I’m still an American first.” “Hah! Some analyst. I do appreciate the British hospitality.

Robbie. ‘thou protests too much.” “Listen to me. “Trust me on this. and the Master Race genetic testing. .” His hand moved towards her hand. This is Europe’s problem to sort. “Your opinion is so strong that you don’t necessarily believe it. Well.” “Wise up.” “He did?” “Yes. How did you know about the jets and camps?” “Lampert briefed me on the full details of Hess’s papers. touching it. How do we know the papers are legit?” “You’re incorrigible.why.” Langford went on. That’s only what we’re told.” “What are you saying? Hitler’s not a threat?” “In a way. they are. “If they’re on the level. don’t I? What about you?” “You’re forgetting the broken Munich agreement. and . And England’s part of it.’ ” “Meaning?” Hollinger asked.” “To paraphrase own dear William Shakespeare. With Hitler’s peace.. He let you get away to think about it. and the jet aircraft.” 156 .” “According to our foreign agents. and. what about them?” Hollinger hesitated.” “Oh. . “How can you trust Hitler’s word? What about the extermination camps. methinks. Then Hess came.. He’s certainly not a threat to us in America.” “Wait a sec.

. I. After that . fair. She fixed him an unconvinced cold stare. You’re a levelheaded woman. .” “Promise me..” Hollinger chuckled. and . “Give me some time on this. . please.” She frowned. and pulled her hand away. .“Based on what? Nothing I’ve heard from you in the last few minutes. “End of the year. I need time.” Hollinger grunted. “End of the year.” “What?” 157 . I beg you.” “I don’t. . .” “Them is the breaks.” She wasn’t in the mood.” Her face turned a deep red. the other hand on her hip. “We’ll see who’s right. “None whatsoever. “Oh! Sometimes I could just—!” “I’m not a traitor. “Leave me alone!” “You take offense at my opinions?” “Oh.” “How much time?” Hollinger shrugged. I thought you’d be one person who would understand.” “Robbie.” “I don’t suppose there’s the slightest possibility in your mind that you’re wrong?” Hollinger stood his ground. I have an opinion.. to show that I’m right.” “This is no way to make friends and influence people. well .” “Bugger you! Why not ask for the end of the century. good guess!” “Don’t foam at the mouth or anything.” “That’s your prerogative.

Hollinger chuckled. tapping a pen on his desk blotter.” she snapped. It seemed her foot had fallen asleep. too cross with him to speak. you’re right. “I thought you called me incorrigible. you buffoon.” The American found a chair. She stalked off in a huff and a flash of skirt.“I don’t know yet. “Bad news?” Lampert was in his shirt sleeves.” She made an attempt to walk away. “Close the door. It fits.” “I’m referring to the puzzle. but stumbled. head high. Sit down. “What was that?” “Nothing!” **** Hollinger spit out his gum and headed to Lampert’s office.” “Oh. chin out. I shall take my leave of you. Thanks. “Yeah. “Perhaps. No pun intended.” Then she turned to leave for the second time. “I believe the word is imperious. Then she returned half a minute later. I suppose. Wesley. “Not now. We still cannot locate Eiser. Hypothetically.” She whirled in her seat and bolted to her feet.” “You’re welcome. She was not Robbie the sweetie now. annoyed with herself. Every MI-5 agent here in England and MI-6 agent in Europe and 158 . murmuring something indistinguishable. We fear he went to Switzerland for plastic surgery to do a job right under our noses.” she snapped. “Meantime.” Hollinger pulled the crossword sheet from his breast pocket.

Africa knows his face.” “I hope his trip was worthwhile. Hawaii. His first order of business was a morning report to the House of Commons. when’s the Prime Minister due back in town. Wesley.” “Geez. given a doctor of caliber. he found his way to the underground War Room.” “Sunday. in the afternoon. possibly three months.” 159 .” “Hawaii. Wesley. Bought a boat ticket for Honolulu. His phone rang. he did. just before you came in the door. eh? Lucky bum. “Yes.” **** 10 Downing Street – August 18 Churchill had returned to London that morning from his Argentia Bay conference with Roosevelt. Incidentally. He has to change it if he ever wants to come to this end of the world and we think he will. I wonder what Eiser’s up to?” “Yeah. He closed a file and lifted the receiver of the C-phone. It takes two. How long does it take a patient to heal completely?” “Funny you should mention that. the COI located Edgar Heinemann – Eiser’s tutor – for us.” “So does he. I called a specialist this morning. By the way.” “Where?” “San Francisco. Then.

If we send him home. We’ll make out as if we don’t know. Prime Minister. I’m afraid. We’re stuck with the clod.” “Who?” “Hollinger. Mr. sir. “Do you hear me?” “Yes.“We best go on scramble. I can keep him busy with projects. Neither he nor Langford know. I think. “What about the May 9th Falcon File transmission?” “Not that I know of. I trust?” “Yes and no.” “Successful.” Churchill pressed the proper button. He has us over a barrel. sir. At least he has an inkling. Whether we told Stalin—” Churchill swore over the line. The President agreed only to enter the war should Japan attack the Dutch or our own possessions in the East Indies or Malaya.” “Who told him?” “He figured it all out on his own. Now what do we do?” Churchill asked. sir.” 160 . Donovan will ask questions.” “Thank you.” “Seems so. What’s new with you?” “He knows. Welcome back. Then Roosevelt will ask Donovan questions. He knows why he went to Washington. I don’t know how he does it. Colonel Lampert.” “You hope. “We can’t panic. He was overheard in the cafeteria.

blasted.” Churchill admitted for the first time to Lampert. The Kid said he hadn’t heard anything. Five countries. If Donovan knows the score.” “I can see what this means. colonel. sir.” 161 . Donovan asked Hollinger for verification. Hitler’s concessions got back to Washington somehow.“One other thing.” “Oh.” “I’m afraid the President does already. sir! Hitler’s willing to give up five countries!” “Yes. “If we can take him at his word. then so does Roosevelt.

He was a perfectionist. Hickam Airfield and Ford Island that day. From there. Sunday. That would make five flattops. Five prints altogether displayed a low-level panoramic view of Pearl Harbor. he hung it up with clothes pegs on the line with the other photos to dry. and the Lexington. 162 . He slipped the sheet into the water tray. Shots of the four carriers.CHAPTER TWELVE Honolulu – November 23 He stirred the darkroom tray in his apartment closet. and studied it carefully through the small magnifying eyepiece. Rumors spoke that the carrier Saratoga. Perfect negatives made perfect prints. were especially distinguishable. He hovered over the final picture. and eventually to the second tray of water. the Enterprise. when most of the ships were either at anchor or in dock. now stateside in California. Under the orange light. then the fixer. the Hornet. the Yorktown. the black-and-white images appeared like magic on the last of the eight-by-ten-inch photo papers. would soon join the Hawaiian fleet. an excellent angle of the Harbor entrance.

living the socialite life of a rich retiree. Quite handsomely. radio broadcasts. Arriving in Hawaii in August. and siphoning bits and pieces from the sailors he picked up nearly every day at the Navy Yard front gate. 52-yearold Edgar Heinemann to drive a cab six days a week. happened to be a member of the Japanese Third Bureau Section 5. and who. One such report was invaluable to the Japanese. But the other money was coming in once more. and one too many slow horses. photography.It was an awful comedown for the widowed. crooked card games. By mid-October he was handing over twice-weekly reports on the day-to-day readiness of the American Fleet to the Japanese Consul-General’s office in Honolulu. The paychecks were meager. 163 . Tips weren’t bad. Bad women. codenamed Bradley. Heinemann. in turn. thanks to a German friend who entrusted him to a Japanese diplomat in Rio de Janeiro. overlooking the waters. It was the least favorite cover he ever had to use. at first casually absorbing all he could of the island of Oahu. Poor Heinemann had run himself broke in South America. the Japanese Naval Intelligence specializing in espionage in America. by conducting his own surveillance of Pearl Harbor and the surrounding area. though. Then he set out to ferret more detailed information. took his job seriously. One of the simplest things was to observe the Pearl Harbor activity from an exceptional vantage point – near Spring Tide Restaurant on Aiea Heights. The data was then radioed in code to Tokyo. He was utilizing several methods to obtain his information – newspapers.

” “Keep in touch. A half-dozen faces I couldn’t recognize. They used three aircraft per patrol.Heinemann had discovered that the American air patrol searches behaved in a predictable pattern. Donovan lifted the receiver of his office phone. **** Washington. he had purchased a set of photos showing an aerial panoramic view of Pearl Harbor and had passed them along to the ConsulGeneral. Bill.” “Really?” “Yes.” “Yes. and guarded only the north and south approaches to Oahu.” **** Vichy France – November 24 Inside the compartment.C.” “Who?” “Silsoner. It was easy being a spy on Oahu. There. sir. “Yes. D. Aris?” “Sir. sir. Lydia Harris craned her neck to see the French policeman accompanied by a man in 164 . But I overheard one name. A local gift shop was Heinemann’s best find. Mr. there’s an important meeting underway here.

then turned to the older woman. Assuming it would take the latest boarders some time to arrive at her compartment. Her nerves tightened. and could officially move in and takeover any time they damn well pleased. “S’il vous plait. The French mother and her teenage daughter across from Harris stared ahead. she knew Nazi Germany ran the show. Yellow hair. Harris watched as Yellow Hair checked them. She wished she could appear as unruffled as they were. Twenty minutes later the door banged open. He asked the three of them questions in perfect French. “Passports and traveling documents.plain clothes board the train at the Marseille stopover. The wind seemed to leave her. Harris dragged on a cigarette.” Mother and daughter showed their ID and documents first. the way they had done when they overwhelmed Northern France in 1940. He was her age. in tones anxious to please. Bolt upright. Stiff. The elderly French woman beside her smiled. Harris smiled back. Beige trenchcoat. She was above suspicion. She could feel the small manila envelope pressing against her spine under her bra strap. German. He had to be Gestapo. Or would they? What about a strip search? She tried not to think about it. Harris knew enough French to 165 . pretending to read a political column in The New York Times. All she had to do was stay calm. Tall. Although this was the unoccupied neutral section of France.” the policeman snapped in French. They answered promptly. lost in their thoughts. They wouldn’t dare frisk her there. She had nothing to worry about.

Divorced. All three were on working visas in Vichy. A writer. her English friend had warned her – too pretty.” He looked at the occupation on the passport. He was staring hard. Any other time she would have been dressed to the nines. A whole lot of skill and some lady luck would have to get her through. “Yes.” “You Americans are so vain. too noticed. I go by my maiden name. “Born 1911. right through her face and eyes. “Although I don’t like to advertise my age. Says here you’re American?” The German switched to faultless English. 166 . sir. Her blouse buttons were done up to her neck.” “Yes. and left a button or two loose at the top.” she answered. white teeth. Harris’s hair was tied back in a bun. Thirty is not very old. a grin on his lips. “A correspondent for The New York Times. She had refrained from using her red lipstick and makeup. I am. For this trip.” The woman’s face on the passport – small black and white picture that it was – revealed a very beautiful. Her gray skirt fell a modest few inches below the knee. Are you married?” “No.catch the gist of the conversations. Thirty years old?” “That’s right. and she wore her reading glasses. his smile a patronizing put-on.” She smiled with even. “Lydia Harris. And you’re very German. Then he held his hand out to her. She gave him the passport and some documentation that he had to fold out.

She took the pressure and the bed offers. . You’re not kidding buster. She had taken an extreme amount of heat from her peers to get where she was. it is. The Gestapo agent followed. “Your photo is .” The French policeman left the compartment first. Yes?” “Yes. She forced herself to be polite. The put-on smile vanished. she was told.” “It’s rare to see a woman overseas correspondent. “It seems to be in order.” “And why are you flying to New York?” “A vacation. shall we say .” she replied. “Where do you reside. closed the door slowly. 167 . Have a good trip. The envelope felt clammy against her skin. My Embassy in Switzerland reserved a flight on a Pan-American Clipper to New York. Miss Harris?” Stick to the truth. She had worked so hard to succeed that it had destroyed her marriage. She wasn’t just some dumb blonde. different. “Thank you. .” She said nothing. Miss Harris. a slight curl to his grin.almost perfect face. . “Zurich. she wanted to have the courage to say. . and shook off both. instead. and turned his back to the passengers to make a note on his pocket-size writing pad. He stared at the ID. I haven’t been home in over a year.” He neatly folded the paper and gave it to her.” The Gestapo man read the paper issued by the American Embassy in Switzerland. “What’s the nature of your business in Vichy?” “I’m traveling to Lisbon.

No surgery marks. She kept me warm at night.” “Play time is over. your lady companion. “Does it meet with your satisfaction. Now to the work. “They will never recognize you in England.**** Gestapo Headquarters Himmler was astonished. He smiled roughly.” “Why. almost to a brush cut. Freda was a good teacher. Doctor Alfred Seissburg – the hawk-nosed buzzard – had outdone himself. not two feet away. “Waiting the extra month was worth it. The good doctor had thinned out his Roman nose. looking closely at Eiser.” Himmler said. Eiser tapped the hat in his hands.” “And you found time for a good tan?” “The sun is rather bright on the slopes.” Himmler’s smile faded. His hair was cut short. The only thing the same were the fierce eyes and the bass voice. cut back on his prominent jaw. Eiser’s new face was nothing short of miraculous. “Excellent. and filled in flesh below his high cheek bones. his eyes glistening. touched up with a little white dye around the temples.” Himmler swiped a small piece of paper off his desk and 168 . of course. bending down. hands on hips. delighted. Herr Reichsfuehrer?” Himmler nodded. scrutinizing him.” “You learned to ski. did you?” “Yes. I do hope you enjoyed convalescing and biding your time in the Swiss Alps with Freda. Herr Reichsfuehrer. He had grown a moustache.

sat nineteen other operators each with his or her own frequency range to scan. Tonight the airwaves were average to steady at the receiving station. He knew exactly how she tapped her key.” Eiser’s eyes fell on the name and address on the slip. Dismiss.” **** Hamburg Radio operator Gunther Gruhn enjoyed a cigarette while leaning on the desk top in his soundproof booth.” “Just how close?” “They were in one of these all-male organizations a few years ago. Need I say more? That is all. Not much in the way of data from 169 .handed it to Eiser. before our Party came to power. Why not? He had trained her. I understand. all sets tuned west to England. Outside his booth. before they had sent her to enemy territory. “Walter Buhle. He frequents an establishment called The Pyramid. 1940. They were very close. Ten minutes to go until Denise reported in. his transmitter deathly silent. He had befriended her. Who is he?” “He knows Hess from his Munich days. in the red light district of Berlin. down the aisle. And he had also slept with her that last night in Hamburg. Gruhn knew everything about the agent Denise. “I want you to see that person at once.

She waited. Denise’s movements were precise. to the top of the hour. The signal should be sharp.German agents across the North Sea in England. She slid the radio onto the dusty work table by the wobbly chair. The dampness was a killer. She wished she could warm up with it. She took the same creaky stairs to the top floor and loosened the same planks in the corner of the same old master bedroom. then placed the earphones on her head. So far. In seconds. Met reports predicted clear skies through the night. mechanical by now. The slim woman with the dark. Hamburg was clear tonight at the usual 7587 kilocycles. **** Firth of Forth It was a bitterly cold evening. Her finger on the key. She waited almost five minutes. the Morse echoes came. and switched the power on. The set hummed softly as it warmed up. and paper pad. She removed her gloves and played with the dial. curly hair arrived at the deserted two-story house at the water’s edge as she had done routinely once a week for the last several months. She reached in for her British-made Mark II Suitcase Transceiver. she 170 . It was coming in perfect. code book. She lined the frequency crystals to one side. She heard her call sign. She checked the position of the aerial – in place against the wooden window sill.

How ironic it was to him... She tapped out her call sign. if such a term meant anything in this business. and proceeded down the corridor. Too quick for him. the shadow probably knew about the call and held back. He slammed on his brakes in the car park. DLM. Then again...DLM. She sat. Wesley Hollinger took the priority call from His Honor at his apartment this cool. Hollinger discovered he was being tailed by the same Secret Service he was 171 . He lost his shadow in the downpour... He stopped at the inter-office pigeon-holes. The line went dead.. Hamburg gave their call sign.began to transmit her three-letter call sign six times with a consistent tap.. and WE READ YOU LOUD AND CLEAR in code. Hollinger didn’t know and he didn’t care. **** MI-6 Headquarters It was normally called after-hours.. She jotted down the dots and dashes crackling over her phones. He laughed to himself.DLM. Since his cafeteria conversation with Langford in August. taking long strides. It ended with Hamburg’s call sign..DLM. listening for the reply.DLM. He whipped out his MI-6 identification at the door. The message was a short one. Nothing for him. got out and trotted along the sandbagged front of the building.. soggy Sunday evening at dusk and drove his MG pell-mell to the office..DLM.

He hoped. in fact. As far as he knew. pipe puffing in his mouth. There’s a development in this other case. Funny thing. She had put up the proverbial wall between them away from the office. “And in this rain and blackout. But he didn’t mind. However. But that was difficult. Maybe he could forget tattooed Annie Fannie. Hollinger hadn’t spoken to a soul about Mein Kampf or to anybody about his Churchill accusations since.” 172 . At this hour it was free of secretaries. He turned into Colonel Lampert’s office. He had tried to clear her from his mind by dating other English women. It was great fun losing his tail and making it look like it was an accident because he was a fast driver anyway. using the handrail as support. swivelling in his chair. Langford. “That was fast. “Our sources picked up a message from Hamburg to Denise. and unbuttoned his suit jacket. Hollinger bounded up the stairs.” “What’s up?” “Forget Jordan for the time being. You’re going to Scotland. No man could quite clear his mind of Roberta Langford.” Lampert said.employed by. It was like a game of Cops-and-Robbers. And Hollinger hadn’t pressed it. showing his holster and pistol. Langford had kept her word too. But not Robbie. He knocked at the open door and entered. outside of MI-6 work. why should I be surprised.” “Why? What gives?” Hollinger removed his fedora. was hardly speaking to him at all anymore. to the executive section.

” “You won’t. We had to call her out of retirement.” 173 . It’s been three months since Lancer disappeared. He’ll be here in three days. yes. Night low-level drop. I’ll send a few men with you. We’re going to use her again. “We couldn’t. The Germans kept asking for her. That’s precisely what I want you to do.” “Another case for the double cross. “You never cease to amaze me. codenamed Tommie. the MI-5 Twenty Committee?” “I believe so.” “How many men?” “Four. The Germans have a new agent. young Wesley. That’s time enough for scars to heal from the surgery. We brought her out of mothballs three weeks ago to trap an agent.” “And you want me to find out if this Tommie is the old Lancer with a new disguise.” “Why me?” “We can’t take the chance on briefing any more agents on this Himmler thing. However did you know?” “I put two-and-two together.” “Sounds like Dunampton all over. unlike Hess. The Blue Force. Operation Decoy.” “You won’t even have to meet him. But I don’t know.” Lampert puffed on his pipe.“I thought you retired Denise after the last Hess operation. I thought I wasn’t going to be put in the face of danger again.” Lampert took the pipe from his mouth.

Parading on the spotlighted stage were men in a chorus line dressed up like women. and they wore makeup.” “By the way. isn’t it. it beats the hum-drum of the office. men had their hands on each other. and Hut Nine. At the tables. “OK. watching the show. “Hi. Two couples were kissing. now you’re thinking like me. Someone named Harris. somewhere in Vichy.” Hollinger considered the past.” **** Berlin One glance inside The Pyramid and Adam Eiser knew he had invaded the domain of a homosexual cabaret. It was better than Committee B. Someone tapped him on the shoulder.” “Damn right.” Lampert grinned. But how do you know it has anything to do with Himmler?” “I don’t. Eiser had spied on homosexuals before. Come for some fun?” 174 . A hunch. there.“Well. But never had he asked them for help. This would be a first.” “Do you suppose the negatives will arrive before Tommie does?” “They’d better. I should let you know that Lawrence’s courier is on the way.” “Colonel. They were singing. “Scary. and bullied them.

He was wearing a tuxedo. In his hand was a drink. Do you know him?” “Oh.” Eiser edged through the crowd of onlookers. A man was laid out on a bed. His chest was full of tattoos. stripped to his waist. studying Eiser with a curious eye. “You can go in now. bald. “Are you Walter Buhle?” 175 . crooked teeth. and pounded his fist against the door. “Not especially. I’ll buy you a drink. Knock first. and a bowtie. Standing at the entrance was a brute of a man with huge muscles bulging from a white shirt. “Come in!” Eiser flung the door open. “Ja?” He stuck an arm across the door frame. until he came to the hallway.” “I think not. He was gray-haired. with slicked-back hair.” Eiser turned and watched the crowd and stage show.” The muscle man pulled his arm away. “Gestapo Headquarters sent me.” the bodyguard said.Eiser glared at a portly man about forty. a young man about twenty came down the hall and walked past the body guard.” The man pointed.” “Very well. “Come on back later. I want to see Buhle. You might have to wait a few minutes. with a thin moustache – like Eiser. Wallace. He’s in one of the back rooms. After a few minutes. Obviously a bodyguard. Eiser found the room. a white shirt. Third one on the right. I’m looking for Walter Buhle. “He’s busy.

. .” The man’s disposition changed. you knew Hess during his early days in Munich. Physical features. You can’t demand favors.” “What kind of information?” Buhle closed the door. .” “Then you shared the same bed.” Buhle sauntered to a table in the corner of the room. “Sit with me. . I was one of his favorites. He smiled. It turned his stomach to see that Buhle used nail polish. “He said you were close.” “Yes.The man bounded to his feet. How did you get in?” “Himmler sent me.” Glaring. close.” “Then you must know a lot about him. I want some information.” “Deal? What deal?” “Herr Reichsfuehrer will do no such thing. friends. . “The Reichsfuehrer said you . We have many noted visitors who say things under 176 . were . “I asked you a question. because we are a great source of information to him and the Gestapo.” Eiser pulled out a chair. .” “I want a favor first. you don’t know the deal.” “Can’t I? Obviously. Military and political secrets pass through here. I miss him dearly. “I don’t know you. Eiser leaned forward. birth marks. Is that true?” “It’s possible. Herr Buhle?” “Many times. “Himmler could shut this place down in twenty minutes if he wanted to. He and I were .

Sixteen Rhone Avenue.” Eiser stood up. at the same time reaching in his pocket for a handkerchief. Eiser grabbed Buhle by the hair and smashed his face to the table.” Buhle scolded.” “And I suppose you want a specific color. a poodle. “That’s not nice.” he said. with a red bow.” Buhle held his nose to stop the bleeding. White. “While you’re at it.” he said. “Cross me and you’re kaput. “All right! Tomorrow!” “Bring it to my apartment at the Straumhausser.” “Get your own damn poodle!” “Forget the whole thing. 177 .” Eiser cursed. Josie – my dog – died last week. I want a new one. his voice muffled by the cloth to his face. shaking his finger. a sneer on his lips. “A dog?” “A puppy to be exact. the favor.the influence.” Eiser winced at him. Now. Blood squirted from his nose. Say. Then we talk. Room sixty-four. returning the handkerchief to his nose. now. “Go ahead. “Now. Six o’clock. then.” Reaching out quickly. Do whatever you want. I want my poodle by tomorrow. too?” Buhle removed the handkerchief and checked it for blood. yes. “Himmler might not be too happy with you. Bring me a poodle and I will give you your information on Hess.

there were German drivers and German passengers. She saw a parked Mercedes across the street from the stuccoed train station. her eyes roaming across the foreign faces in the station multitude. Senorita. I do. Ma’am is quite sufficient.” 178 . She couldn’t wait to change. Where there were German cars. He respectfully nudged the brim of his black cap and smiled. No one should be paying any attention to her here in warm and tropical Lisbon. The car was impressive. if they wanted. minus the swastikas and jackboots. Do you know where the Empress Hotel is?” “Yes. She felt safe and secure. Dammit. black and polished. Then out of nowhere. “Yes. “You speak English?” she asked the bulbous-nosed Portuguese man behind the wheel. They were here.” “I’m American. She saw another Mercedes. She flagged the first taxi she saw. not far away. Those Nazi bastards could take Portugal too. smoking train. ma’am.CHAPTER THIRTEEN Lisbon – November 25 She emerged from the hissing. it hit her.

smoking a cigarette.” The driver was waiting in his vehicle.“Take me there. Five-seven. slender figure. This was the real Lydia Harris. If he doesn’t lose you. In the room. There was a carefree American swing in her walk. 179 . sir. “Taxi!” “Yes. She neatly placed a broad-brimmed white hat on her head. knee-length. Hair in a bun. please. She took the elevator up. rose-colored dress that revealed her firm.” **** It was simple for Hans Schmidt. I’ll give you another one just like it. the rage back home in the States. this Saturn. Her room was ready. the most expensive and luxurious hotel in Lisbon. The woman – Harris – was one of the first to get off. cocked over one eye. Good man. White blouse. Schmidt slipped an American twenty-dollar bill through the window and the driver’s eyes popped. He looked around and jogged across the street. she undid her hair and let it fall to her shoulders. Then she showered – the first one in two days. He had class. Blonde.” “Yes. “Follow that cab. sir!” **** She checked into the Empress. but stay well back of him. and slipped into a snug. whoever he was. She put on her pale-red lipstick. She stood out among the dark-haired men and women. Gray skirt.

David knew it would be difficult for an Englishman taking a train through Vichy. . He glanced up and down the hall. Harris.No more hair-in-a-bun stuff anymore.” He rushed her inside.” “Perhaps we should also be on first-name terms?” “Good enough.” “You’re Harris?” the man said. do sit down. “A good disguise. and trotted two stories up. cautiously. didn’t expect Lawrence to send a woman courier. “That’s me.” And she didn’t expect to see such a well-tanned Englishman. The door opened slowly. All he said was – Harris. “You’re American?” “That’s right. . “Saturn?” she whispered.” “Come in. Lydia Harris.” He smiled. She knocked at Room 418. I see. “Is anything the matter?” “I . . took to the stairs. Can I get you a drink?” 180 .” “I’m Kenneth Sims. you’re on first-names with him. A man in shirt sleeves and tie came into view. She tossed her hair back with a flick. It took the stone-faced man some time to answer. and closed the door. Call me Ken. . we can – come.” “Now that the formalities are over. “We know each other quite well.” “Ah.” “Lydia. I suppose. in shock.” She cleared her throat. “Who are you?” “I’m . and seemed to relax.

Aren’t you going to ask me what I brought with me half-way across the continent?” “I was getting around to it. Maybe later. I was told to tell you he is a German spy named Eiser.” Harris found herself in a wide. Under my bra strap.” “I’m inclined to agree.” “It would be a pleasure. Lancer. sun-filled living room containing soft wall-to-wall carpet. crossing her smooth. I thought it safer than the front. did you?” “No. “Excellent quality.” She opened her purse and handed him a small manila envelope. How did Shean acquire them?” 181 .” “Bloody hell. The windows were open. Eiser! So that’s what this is all about. “I presume that you know who Shean works for?” She nodded. “There you are. “Is that the lot? Three negatives of a man?” “Not just any man.” “Adam Eiser! Are you positive?” “Yes. sitting in a comfortable chair.” “Your purse? You didn’t keep it in your purse going through Vichy. the branches of a thick palm tree fluttered. Behind my back. long legs. MI-6.” Sims studied the 35mm negative transparencies against the light of the sunny window. “When we go for dinner. a gentle breeze brushing the drapes. after plastic surgery.“Not right now.” He slid the contents out. “Yes. Over the terrace. David told me his codename.” She smiled.” “Let’s do it then.

” “Yes. No.” **** Schmidt slid a crisp British pound note across the counter to the hotel clerk with dark hair and moustache. I know some people in London who’d like to take a look-see at these. “How may I help you?” “I need a room number. Never could sleep on trains.” He checked the register. David got in. “An American woman.” “Sure. What room is she in?” 182 .“A little burglary of a surgeon’s office in Switzerland. about thirty. “I’ll see you at seven. What about you? Where are you going from here?” “New York.” Sims eyed his wrist watch. I need a good rest. Coming on to three. thank you. blonde. snapped pictures without anyone knowing. “I must go book a flight. asked for a room today. the one who performed the surgery. “Miss Harris. Do you want to come for a ride? See some of the sights?” “No.” “When?” “Two days.” The jittery clerk quickly tucked the money inside his pocket. for dinner. and developed the negatives. then. smoothing his moustache.” “This is astounding. by Clipper.” Sims jumped to his feet.

Fascinating. “Follow him. Get going. Keep a safe distance.” “Another ten American dollars on top of the charge?” the Portuguese driver asked firmly.“Two-three-eight.” “I know another way. From the other side of the cobblestone street. “Let’s go. a safe distance astern. He started up the engine at the same time that a streetcar passed by them. We can beat him there if you like. Schmidt took note. After driving five or six miles through narrow palmlined streets.” Schmidt said. sir. “Here he comes.” Schmidt turned and saw Sims get off the elevator and quickly blend into the crowd. “Yes. The German calmly looked the other way.” “Then take it. jumping into the back seat. Sims stepped into his automobile and drove away.” said the driver. Of course. What was that swine Sims doing here in the same hotel as the girl? Where was the girl? And why was Sims in such an awful hurry to leave? Schmidt followed the Englishman around the corner of the hotel. Schmidt sauntered over to the taxi. Sims got into his car and left.” **** 183 . The cable office. Schmidt came to one conclusion. Schmidt and the taxi driver waited. “He’s heading for the airfield.” The first stop was six blocks away.

A gasp escaped her lungs.Sintra Field Through the glass of the Lufthansa window. She slowly slipped her nightgown over her body. “The Empress.” “Compliments of the house. Tickets! What else? His old MI-6 friend had booked a flight.” **** Lisbon Wakened from a deep sleep. she 184 . a plan taking shape in his mind. “I don’t remember calling for room service. Schmidt returned to the taxi. buttoning it up.” She hesitated. He could bump anyone. leaning against her side of the door. Miss Harris. “Yes. In an instant.” A man’s voice. And this right after sending a cable and a possible meeting with an American reporter. sir. To Whitchurch. Move it!” “Yes. shoving an envelope in his suit-jacket pocket. who is it?” she said. she stretched. Schmidt saw Sims burst into the British Overseas Airways Office. and slid out of bed to answer the knock. “Room service. Take the shortcut. He came out five minutes later. The door banged her in the face. more than likely. then opened up. Hands lunged out. sending her crashing to the floor. It had to be more than a coincidence. ma’am. As a British Embassy worker he’d have priority status.

Harder. “I think you do know.” she tried to say. “Don’t move. She was dragged into the bedroom and thrown on the bed. What a fool she was staying here. Not this way. A swift knee to her back pinned her. What information did you give Sims?” Another slap came down on her. “That’s not the right answer. “Negatives!” “Negatives of what. you die.found herself gagged with a handkerchief. dizzy from the blows. Beads of perspiration formed on her forehead. The sound echoed in the room. She should have gone with Sims. face down. Her throat tightened. but the grip grew tighter. She couldn’t see her assailant. above her temple. “What?” He drew closer to her ear. hovering over her. “What information did you give Sims?” “Nothing. She tried to squirm. Fraulein?” She shook her head. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed the white sleeve of a jacket and a faint smell of hard liquor. “Negatives.” A slap across the side of the head. her arms bent at odd angles behind her back. By herself. Let’s try again. You scream. “What do you want?” she managed to emit through the handkerchief. stunned her. Don’t look back! I warn you!” 185 .” The voice was now distinctly German. “What did you say?” He shook her. For that she received another slap.

**** She didn’t come to until she heard the pounding on the door. She must have fainted. Had he heard someone? Perhaps the real room service. And that nasty German with the liquor breath had vanished. . right . The pounding continued. . . So had the handkerchief. right. . clothes strewn about. She was still alive. mouth. Only what her eyes focused on stayed in focus . managing to move her legs as best she could. Slice her up. . head. She looked down at herself. But how long was she out? Why had he left her alive? Then again. Her whole body was one big sore – arms. she stepped forward. She tightened the belt of 186 . Her head began to spin. grayed over. Left . “Tell me who it was or I’ll cut your heart out through your spine. A shiny knife slid by her right eye. she hadn’t seen his face. . She licked her dry lips.” She couldn’t suck in oxygen quick enough. fell. . The beast was going to kill her. Her clothes were still on. . . left . she certainly was now. then got up. and tasted blood. It took all her strength to get herself off the bed. Her imagination went to work. she stumbled to the door. But he had left the room turned upside-down. wrists. .A knee crunched into her spine. . . “Lydia!” Slowly. Like a drunk. back. one foot in front of the other. ribs. gradually . If she wasn’t terrified before. It took her a few moments to realize where she was. I’m going to let the gag go. The rest .

I had better change it to two seats. though. outside the hotel. staring at her. she said. and she burst into tears. Sims first peeked inside.” Sims saw that the place had been ransacked. I booked a BOAC flight to London. it’s Ken. Her blood ran cold.” She opened the door a fraction. stunned to see a red welt on the side of her head and dried blood above one eye. “I saw him leave in a taxi. “I complained about the accommodations. “A white jacket. But he had a German accent. giving her a handkerchief. probably. He doesn’t know what they are. “Who did this?” “I didn’t get a look at him.” “Hotel jacket. “There. “He wanted to know what it was. What did he find out?” “That I gave you negatives.” “The Germans were tipped off.” Then her bottom lip quivered.her nightgown.” 187 . Schmidt. Let me in. That’s all.” he said under his breath. He knows I gave you something. For tomorrow. He set her down on a chair. They must have been. “Who is it?” “Lydia. “What on earth!” She tried to smile. You’re coming with me. He gently placed his hands on her shoulders. then entered.” Her voice cracked. Ready to lock it. there. Did you get a glimpse of him at all? What was he wearing?” She wiped her eyes and described what she had seen. Disguised himself as an employee. I’ll bet. She promised herself she wasn’t going to cry. The door was unlocked. Listen to me.

the poodle had plopped his front paws on the passenger window and never stopped barking. you probably have. She winced.” “Not out of Lisbon you’re not. That man’ll kill you.” She brushed her hand through her hair. If anybody breaks in. Her side hurt. “Come along. “You’re room?” “Don’t worry.” “I’ve heard that one before. For the entire ride from the pet store. He barked at a German Shepherd that was taking it’s out-of-shape owner for a walk. I’ll shoot first.” **** Berlin Eiser drove his Mercedes to the eight-story Straumhausser apartment building at a few minutes to six.” She laughed a little. He barked at pedestrians. You can stay with me in my room tonight. and wiped her tears. You’ll be safe there.” “Do you have a gun?” “Bloody right. vermin!” Eiser snapped at the furrywhite runt with the red bow. You’ll never last another day around here. With that lump. and steered to a side lot. Try London. “Yes. 188 .“But I’m going to New York. We’ll have dinner here. It’s not what you think. He barked at the traffic. I don’t think you’ll want to be seen in public. anyway.

and it yelped. smiled awkwardly. He didn’t think he’d get that close to the prisoner. Eiser slapped it across the mouth.” Buhle put the poodle down and let it scamper around the apartment.” She nodded. Makes my dear heart flutter. On the sixth floor. “Going out. Is that all you can remember about Hess?” “Yes.” he said to the woman. “It’s yours. “Frisky. and turned away. a uniformed Hitler Youth. a loosened tie slung around his neck. “To start with.” Buhle took the animal in his arms and patted its ears. are you?” Eiser asked “Yes. I think I’ll call it Rudolf. Eiser stepped on the elevator with a woman and her ten-year-old son.” “If you want. I really don’t care. isn’t he?” “Yeah.” Eiser slammed the door behind him. boy. Hess has a fairly large mole on his right arm. “Shut up!” Eiser hit it. At least the last time I saw him. “Sorry. And several cute moles on his bottom. “He’s not house-trained yet.” Buhle played with the pup.” Inside. Why do you want to know this?” 189 . up from his elbow.It growled. Eiser handed Buhle the dog. Buhle met Eiser wearing a white shirt and dress slacks. “Now. Here you go. The poodle growled. talk.” Eiser cleared his throat. What was he going to say? Drop your pants? “Anything else?” “Yes. “Good boy. his right nostril is slightly crooked. Eiser found Buhle’s room. his left cheek.

“Oh. I saw his face once on a news reel. 190 .” Buhle turned white. “Thanks for the information. though. Eiser looked down. His face somehow. then withdrew his gun. His aim was perfect. At least. Many years ago. Can’t quite figure it. “Don’t kill him!” “Shut up!” Eiser fired. lifted its leg.” “What do you mean?” “It didn’t look like him. It didn’t look like him. He turned to Buhle. He was making a speech.” The dog strutted up to Eiser. His jaw. Maybe I’m wrong. and peed on his pant leg. “I hate poodles. the Hess I knew.” “Pig! What am I supposed to do with a dead poodle?” “Flush him down the toilet.” “Are you saying that someone could have been impersonating Hess?” “I’m guessing. one other thing. But it could be my imagination. It’s weird.” Eiser grunted.” Eiser grunted.“Can’t tell you. booted the dog across the room.

Erwin Rommel’s Afrika Korps were thundering towards Egypt and the treasured oil fields beyond.CHAPTER FOURTEEN MI-6 Headquarters The deadpan BBC Home Service voice on the highpowered radio – next to the NO SMOKING sign and the framed glossy photo of FDR – echoed off the walls of the office. the Germans were unleashing their forces against Moscow. He could see the spires of the Kremlin through his telescope. The gap was closing. He reached for it. Wesley Hollinger put himself in a German soldier’s shoes. Advance Wehrmacht units had fought their way to the suburbs. They had taken Istra – forty miles northwest of the Russian capital. The inter-office telephone rang. On the Eastern Front. Was England next? Hollinger still couldn’t bring himself to believe it. Total victory for Hitler was only one final push away. Hollinger turned up the volume and listened to every word. “Wesley?” 191 . In his mind’s eye. It was not good news for the Allies. Stalin had to be shaking in his boots.

Flight 725. He wondered how he would say it to her. She was still on lunch. Then take your trip up to Scotland knowing what you’re up against. Hollinger walked two doors down to Langford’s office. It was Robbie’s unmistakable quick step. His eyes traveled around the room. Her desk contained many papers.“Yes. Due to arrive at Whitchurch around five. old chap. He reserved two seats for a BOAC morning flight tomorrow. She had a smile on her lips and a bounce to her step. He sat down in a chair. “Take-off from Lisbon nine-fifteen our time. Shades of Lampert. colonel. The file cabinets to one side were tightly shut. Today was a good time. You know what I mean?” “Yes. “Fancy meeting you here. Just say it. but they were organized into three tidy stacks.” Later. Why don’t you hang about.” Hollinger heard the rustle of paper. She turned the corner. Then he heard the tap of heels down the hall. colonel. and waited. we can nail this thing down before anything gets out of hand. Her office was the same picture of neatness that she was in personal appearance. Saturn has the negatives. Not a speck of dust anywhere. A whistle. She seemed to be in a great mood for some reason. Not a pen or pencil out of place. boss. and see them for yourself? We’ll have an aircraft ready to fly the negatives to London.” 192 .” “I have a decoded cable in my hand.” “Hopefully. Swell. that’s all. alone.

“You can bet your ass it’s no history lesson. struck a match. . dear boy. I’m busy. eight?” “This isn’t another history lesson on Hitler. Tonight.” “Oh. and held it to a cigarette.“Hi. Look.” “Whatever are you talking about. come off it. You know. He drew the shiny convertible to a stop. is it?” She took a drag. .” **** Zurich The sun set. “No.” She gave it heavy consideration. I don’t. That means talk. .” She puffed and flicked the match out. We have to iron some things out. Eight o’clock. I can’t take this any longer. talk. We have to get something squared away. Your place. Don’t be late because . “So. Robbie.” “So am I. all right.” 193 . The driver wound the top-down Mercedes convertible slowly through the cobblestone street until he came to a series of small. “Not here. “Oh.” he said to the passenger. .” She sat down. I have something to tell you too. “This is it. About . They don’t go over well.” She walked around her desk. two-story row houses with dormers. tucked close together with barely a walkway for each front property. The street lamps flickered on on this cool night. “Three-forty-one.

Then they heard footsteps right above them. Remember.” the passenger whispered. Speed takes priority.” the passenger said. A living room light was on. He carefully and quietly climbed the stairs. The driver eased the lock open with his skeleton key. Once in. he saw a woman walk past the dresser on her way upstairs. he locked up behind them. The passenger shook his head. his associate behind. He removed his gun from his holster. After a few minutes. Kitchen cupboards. Nothing. A night light. “She’s here. They rummaged through a few boxes and checked the contents within. Next came the basement. A drop-leaf desk.” **** 194 . She was early. They heard a car door slam. The house door opened seconds later. “Leave her be. Nothing. I’ll take the one on the right.” They stood there and listened. Forget your home manners now.” The driver nodded.“Let’s get in and out before her roommate comes back. the shower started. don’t move so much as a dust particle.” “Right. “Up we go. “Right. From the darkness of the door frame. See what she does. “These houses have two bedrooms. They started with their search on the first floor.” They walked up. The door to the bathroom closed. The driver pointed upwards. The dresser.

“What do we have to iron out?” “I know you’re still sore at me for my comments about the Big Guy. Lift the curtain so I can at least see where I’m going. I’ve forgotten them. You didn’t swear. “What are you doing?” she asked.” She felt her way to the window.” “Oh.” “This is a novel approach. “Flick out the lights. “What’s the trouble?” 195 .” “Profanity never gets one anywhere.London Inside her flat. She doused the lights. yeah. What is it?” she asked. Sorry. it’s not that. What kind of mind do you have. He wheeled around abruptly. “Good girl. Langford lit a cigarette and served tea to Hollinger who had arrived a few minutes early.” “Not in the least. “Ouch!” “Hurry up. looking through a side slit in the blackout curtain.” He motioned to the window. You’ve hardly spoken a word to me except for official Secret Service business.” “What on earth for?” “Trust me. then stumbled around in the darkness. “Do tell.” “Ah.” He got up and strode to the window.” “I don’t think so. “Come on! The lights! Quick!” He snapped his fingers.” “Blasted! I banged my knee!” She grunted. anyway? I want you to see something out here.

” “I see it. He could smell her hair and fragrant perfume this close. I told you not to talk so loud.” “Are you daft?” “You don’t know anything about it?” “NO!” “Do I have your word that you didn’t tell anyone about our conversation?” “You have it. She let her eyes grow accustomed to the inky night. She sauntered towards him.” 196 . I’ve been shadowed. So?” “The bloke in there’s tailing me. Across the street. someone must’ve overheard us.” She stared at him. Do I have your word a second time that you don’t know anything about my being tailed?” “Yes! I swear to God.” “All this time? Three months!” “You betcha.’s. then. She saw several Mr. down there? The beat-up one?” He held the curtain open for her. “Ever since our little talk in the cafeteria.” “Do you really think MI-6 is tailing you?” “Positive. I didn’t know. Up from my MG.” “What for? Who is he?” “I thought you might know. “Why would I know?” She sounded sincere to him. “Which one?” “The dented Morris.“See the Mr.” “Well.

” “Fun? Everything is fun to you. She had posed a good question.” He was closer to her now. He couldn’t help himself. . . my side and your side have the same common goal. The receiver is on top of the ceiling light. His heart pounded in his chest. .” “I see. the warmth of her body so close. I believe you.” “But when it comes right down to it. must’ve had his reasons. His President’s words were ringing in his ears once more. they wouldn’t have gone to the trouble. He desper197 . eyeing the street. Maybe I was on to something. why do you keep working for us?” He shrugged in the darkness.” “Reasons! That’s why I didn’t want to say anything in your office.” “Good gracious! Well . What do you think of Churchill and the Judge and the boys now? If I was way off with my political accusations. They were face-to-face. I guess. My office is bugged too.” “Yes. someone . It’s still fun.“OK. . How do we know the British aren’t holding anything back? “I don’t know. Would they?” “I – I don’t know what to say. You do it by fighting. If that’s the case. An analyst’s assumption. We accomplish it by staying out of the war. Fight Hitler.” “There’s something else I want to iron out. just in case they bugged your office too. Save our own butts. “What?” She looked into his eyes. The smell of her perfume.” “No.

. Robbie. ’cause you kiss even better than Annie Fannie.” “Who?” “You know. then gave way.” “That so? You certainly had a strange way of showing it.” “Too bad. He kept kissing her. She struggled for a second. the clerk with the Union Jack on her tush. the way he hoped she would. From the moment I saw you at Bletchley. . He felt her body crushed to his chest. She was responding. complications. then took her in his powerful arms and kissed her with fervor and purpose.” “It was?” “Yes.. despite a slight scent of tobacco. What happened to your aversion to redheads?” He shuffled forward. Yes!” “Yes?” “I mean.ately wanted to say a number of things. You’ll be interested to know there’s . although clumsily. He wondered how he had waited so long to kiss her. One kiss lingered long. until. Her lips were soft. After all these months. stepping back. “Stop it!” “Why? You don’t like fast men?” “No. but couldn’t.” 198 . her breath sweet. but he couldn’t find the words. Her arms slid around his neck and strong shoulders. cowboy.” He felt he had to tell everything. “Robbie—” “Back off. she shoved off. They were heartbeat to heartbeat. Breathless. “I love you. She tried to speak. now. your gun was stabbing me. He let go of the curtain. .

Not yet. He paused.” “So he had to get it off his chest before he left. Him. That’s why she had been whistling. Him. the room returning to the dark shadows. “Engaged? When?” “Yesterday. Just that I’m with the Secret Service. “Oh. it seems I was a day too late letting you know my intentions. But he gave me this engagement ring. it was.” “Yes.” She lifted the blackout curtain to show him. That officer – the fighter pilot – you’ve been seeing.“What complications? What’s up?” “Alex. He received a new posting to Banff. He’s leaving next week.” “Sorry.” “How do you know he’s not a German spy?” “Good Lord! He’s a fighter pilot!” 199 .” “Yes. Probably thinks I’m a secretary.” “Oh.” “Does he know that you do classified work?” “No. How stupid of him not to have noticed the ring she probably had been wearing all that day. have the two of you set the date or something?” “No.” She released the curtain. “Is that what you were going to tell me tonight?” “Yes. “So. He kept his distance. One day short. We thought it best that we announce the engagement now. yeah.” “Well. She didn’t answer.” “Who the hell is Alex!” He tried to keep his cool. Scotland.” His voice trailed off.

” He found the switch. why don’t you. On your right. I gotta go. Toodaloo.” Langford grinned.. She laughed. “Well.” 200 . Ever see him fly?” “Well . “What’s so damn funny?” “I think it’s safe to turn the lights back on. no. It was like fumbling on the oneyard line. “Good hunting.. This was crazy. “Remember? No profanity. boss.” His shoulder smacked the wall.“Anyone can be a spy. rub it in.” “Yeah. Good night. thinking of the woman he had in his arms only moments before. I’ve had enough excitement for one night.” she said. The kitchen light snapped on. Got the day off. Now he was walking away from her. “Where are they?” “Straight ahead.” Hollinger saw no point in loafing about any longer. “Going into work tomorrow?” “Of course. “There.” “I probably won’t see you until you get back from Scotland.” she said. “Well. “Thanks. no sense hanging around where I’m not wanted.” He made a move for the door and banged himself on a chair. “Son of a—!” She laughed again. Be careful. handing the fedora to him.” “Watch yourself.” Langford joined him at the door. He smiled. . . I won’t be. sure. Oh-nine-hundred.” He donned his hat.

and pulled the covers up. If she could. mindfully attempting to regain her dignity. riding the emotion. ones that the prisoner had trouble answering. Where would he go? The prisoner laid his head down on the cot. She pulled it off.Their eyes locked. On this occasion. Schubert promised himself to be more polite. He said he loved her. These British were peculiar people. Why was he eating beef and chicken? Where was he born and when? How many 201 . closed his eyes. Did he mean it? But she must think of Alex now. She touched the ring on her finger. Armored glass had been fitted to the windows in October. He took her by the arm. Richardson asked many questions that day in May. Her body was still warm. savoring the moment of passion. excited. What was he going to do? There were two guards outside his door. She had done a good job of looking unaffected. He was a strong man. **** Camp Z One of the many things the prisoner hated about his confinement at Mytchett Place was being forced to sleep with the overhead light on. except for a little blush at the door. He recalled the last time – the Tower of London. After a few minutes he saw Richardson by his bedside. and pushed him away. she put her fingers to her lips. After closing the door on him. gently.

Let me go now. Why don’t you answer me?” In the hall.brothers and sisters did he have? What were their names? Did he know a man named Haushofer? What were the rules of tennis? What was his route to Scotland? Schubert sat up. Bill.” **** 202 . “Richardson. I have come in peace.” “Really?” Vern and Henry listened at the prisoner’s door.” she said. In German. “Mr. “I’ve no idea. sir.” **** New York City In the closing hours at Kerr. How nice to see you again. Don’t you recognize me? I am Rudolf Hess. Chapman & Company.” “You’ll hear from Smith tomorrow morning.” “Yes. “Who’s R-R-Richardson?” Henry asked. Vern motioned to his partner. “More paperwork in the youknow-what file. throwing off the blanket. The first in nearly five months. Aris Palini made a long-distance call to Washington. “Come here!” “W-what’s the matter?” “Hess is talking to himself again. catching a name.

In the darkness.” she said. he saw the narrow streets of the old quarter winding like a maze up the Sintra Hills. From this point. Sims got up from the couch. clean and bright. Home for nearly two years. Another world away. swaying the nearby palm branches. “Yes. He threw on his robe. The stars were flickering overhead. he quietly poured himself a scotch from the liquor cabinet. From the fourth-story iron rail. Through the open French doors. he’d be in London. Harris appeared in her nightgown. By this time tomorrow. Hope I didn’t wake you?” “I couldn’t sleep either. blonde hair. Where war had reared its ugly head. shivering for a moment. softly. He heard a sound and turned.” “Can’t sleep?” she asked. he looked down at the bright lights of the intriguing espionage capital of neutral Europe. Then he tiptoed through the French doors to the terrace. “What a view. It was after midnight.” 203 . “No. careful not to wake the sleeping beauty in his bedroom. The moon was up. crowded with soft-colored houses and shops.Lisbon – November 26 Unable to fall asleep. combining with the lights to outline the city’s terracotta rooftops. the moonlight falling on her long. This was his Lisbon. A cool breeze drifted in from the ocean – five miles west – and swept across the city. some hundreds of years old.

straight up. “I’ve kind of grown to appreciate its climate and its people. An awkward silence came over them. Wicked. Lisbon. it is.” “I told you before. “Wooh. She sipped and coughed.” “Yes. it does have a criminal element. It’s Lydia.” “I’m not budging.” she said.” They sat in the metal armchairs and placed the drinks on the iron table.” he warned her. Thugs. Lydia. “Nice place.” He heaved a sigh. It reminds me of the Swiss.” “Don’t mind if I do.” He returned with her drink.” “Drink slowly. “I will. and a piano playing from a distant bar. “Cheers.” “Don’t go away. They heard laughter. “And spies hanging around. Colonel Lampert. “MI-6 is a closely-knit family.” 204 .He held up his drink. singing. They value their neutrality.” “Cheers. the underground. “However. they certainly do that. Miss Harris.” “How did you get started in your line of business?” “Recruited by a friend of my father’s. and Churchill’s inner circle. A warm scotch.” “Yes.” Sims answered her. bookies. Can I get you one?” “A Doctor Sims remedy for insomnia?” “You might say that.” Sims thought of London.” “Yes.” She tossed her hair. “Thought this might do the trick.

“And—” “I know.” “That’s right.” she protested.” “Until now. “It doesn’t hurt anymore.The two grew quiet.” “Good. I live in Switzerland.” “What got you started as a courier?” “David. Your boyfriend. And they sent word to Schmidt here.” “Must have been one of those times. Her wounds from the attack had been treated. Gestapo Headquarters is putting together a file on New York Times correspondent Lydia Harris as we speak. full lips.” “But I’m coming back in a few weeks. She was attractive even now in the semidarkness – flawless complexion. I know these people. German agents will follow you the minute you return to Europe. She saw him looking at her a shade too hard. Americans aren’t suspects. They could arrest you as 205 . May I ask you something?” “Why not. and the swelling on the side of her head was covered by her hair. In all probability. the Gestapo did come aboard the train twice in Vichy. You can’t go through Vichy again. With my country neutral. I work there.” “Somebody knew you had brought something with you.” “Well. giving time for Sims to admire her stunning features in the available light. high cheekbones. David. Something gave you away. you know. She turned to him. Go ahead.

Lee. They listened to the sounds of the city that didn’t seem to go to sleep.” “That’s an understatement. The Germans enjoy war games. This is war. We should grow too fond of it. ‘War is hell.” His answer was firm. She went quiet. He makes your blood curdle.a spy. Where have I heard that before?” “Robert E. I have crossed paths with him. taking a swallow. “You think so?” “I know so. “It’s dangerous now. What did one famous person once say. His father 206 . I know. his mother’s side. Harris pulled her nightgown tighter. by the way.” “Where?” “Before the war in England. neither Harris nor Sims said anything.” he told her. And your Embassy couldn’t do a damn thing to release you. It is hell.’ Same war. “And didn’t General Sherman once say. During your American Civil War. “What makes him so important?” “He’s a legend in the German intelligence service. “Point taken.” For a full thirty seconds.’” The breeze blew at her hair. He’s half-English. “Sounds familiar. ‘It is well that war is so horrible.” She sighed.” Sims respectfully tipped his head at her. taking a smaller swallow of her drink. He was a spy for the Germans. A killer. “Who’s Eiser?” she asked.

” “But at least I lived to tell about it. “What’s London like? I’ve never been there. we would do something. He moved his chair closer.” “I’m scared. I was in a hospital for weeks. a place where his old face would be recognized by us.” “If you can take the blackouts. I won’t let you out of my sight until we’re aboard our flight to London. It squeaked. the rubble.” Her voice was shaking now. or even England.” “Why can’t he be stopped?” “If this was England.” 207 .” “That’s horrible. If he went in for plastic surgery. or in Malta. then he’s undoubtedly ready for an operation either on neutral soil. He threw acid on one of our men. three of us from the Service were ordered to arrest him. The Secret Service in London must have those negatives. you’ve got it made.was German.” She leaned back in the chair. the rations. we can arrest him the minute he steps on our home soil. But he slipped through our fingers. Promptly. With them. “Of Schmidt?” “Yes. He could be coming home to roost. But what can we do in Portugal? Switzerland’s the same. “He won’t try anything again. Spies run wild. the smell. Most don’t. the sandbagged buildings. He’s learned a lot in two years on the other side. or North Africa. In August 1939.” he assured her. and stabbed me in the chest.” “Don’t be.

I know a great restaurant in Piccadilly. dulling them both. by jove. He bent over and kissed her slowly on the forehead. “To London. We’ll be celebrating in London tomorrow. “Don’t worry. Just consider yourself fortunate he didn’t kill you.” “You don’t say.” She lifted her glass. To London. Lydia.” “The Portuguese authorities won’t do a bloody thing. The kiss of a protector.” “That’s true.” “A toast. like an innocent brother-to-sister kiss.” The alcohol seemed to be taking hold.“But he assaulted me.” “You don’t know for sure if it was him.” 208 . You never saw his face.

white. They set their luggage down on the warm concrete opposite the BOAC terminal. Two countries at war with each other – England and Germany – so damn close. Perfect day for flying. not a cloud in the sky. served by staff in starched white coats.CHAPTER FIFTEEN Lisbon They woke a few minutes after seven. A small aircraft took to the air on the far runway. pulled themselves together. as she eyed their mode of transportation.” Sims said to Harris. and consumed a breakfast of ham. It unnerved Harris to look over and see swastikas on two airplanes through the open doors of the Lufthansa hangar across the concrete. The twinengine Douglas DC-3 passenger airliner near the gate appeared sturdy enough to make the flight. Then they took a taxi to Sintra Field. The aircraft was painted in an overall pale blue. It was a sharp sunny morning. “There she is in all her majesty. and coffee together at the hotel dining room. and blue identification stripes on the long wing. with red. It had large black letters on the rear fuselage – A-GBLL. eggs. 209 .

” **** Near Nantes. Major Ernst Jodel. Outside. “You take it. but she didn’t want to look down once they were off the ground and over the ocean.The loudspeaker blared with a British voice. France The base CO. Six others were Jewish refugees. Harris noted the other passengers in the cabin. “After you. the cut of their clothes giving them away as the privileged of society. accepted the deciphered Lisbon communique with shock and had to double-check with the base communications officer to see if it had been recorded properly.” Harris wished she was as confident as her English friend. by the look of them. Sims said that he knew three by name – all British Embassy officials. They boarded. 210 . the loudspeaker voice exploded. “FINAL CALL FOR BRITISH OVERSEAS AIRWAYS FLIGHT 725 TO WHITCHURCH.” Sims smiled and pointed to the terminal’s main door.” “Thank you. He offered her the window. The others were two Spanish couples with money.” she said. She took a seat with Sims over the starboard wing. ENGLAND. ENGLAND ARE REQUESTED TO MAKE THEIR WAY TO BOARDING AT GATE TWO. “THOSE PASSENGERS ON BRITISH OVERSEAS AIRWAYS FLIGHT 725 TO WHITCHURCH.

he received his answer. They saluted in unison. Jodel wanted to know why Berlin had not authorized this. In most cases. Kampfgeschwader 50. decorated with the Iron Cross 2nd Class during the Polish Campaign. They shared intelligence on the diplomatic line. for it was in the form of an order.” Jodel cleared his throat. In minutes. Top Secret. both interested in the Whitchurch-LisbonGibraltar flights and other related information that passed through this side of the continent. destination 211 . For such a mission.” “You wished to see me. Odd. But this flight had the makings of an international incident. Hans Schmidt. He and Schmidt had an agreement. he had made more than forty reconnaissance sorties over the Bay of Biscay.It was from his friend. But he trusted Schmidt. experienced Messerschmitt BF-110 pilot of 16th Staffel. “One of the BOAC flights has departed from Lisbon. Major Jodel would call upon von Reiden. there was no love lost between the men in black and the Luftwaffe. **** Major Jodel looked up as Hauptmann Albert von Reiden reported. Only one option was available to him – telephone Schmidt’s business office in Portugal for verification. To date. Hauptmann von Reiden. Fifteen minutes ago. Jodel wasn’t accustomed to taking orders from the Gestapo. Herr Major. He pondered his telephone receiver. “At ease.

Over a pot of Hollinger’s strong American coffee. She had been up for most of it with Alex. Dismissed.” “Yes. Herr Major?” “No. her mind and body were in disarray. 212 . “Why are you standing there? Dismissed!” Von Reiden clicked his heels and withdrew.. And to top it off. her forehead was pounding from a headache that had started soon after arriving at work. I want you to take four fighters with you and intercept it. they talked of Banff. He left. shoot it down. This had carried on too long. Orders from Berlin. Shoot it down. but. **** MI-6 Headquarters Still half-asleep. Roberta Langford felt lousy this morning. It had been a long night.England. She was exhausted. Langford had to do something. Herr Major—” “Identify it and shoot it down! And don’t leave survivors. She couldn’t pretend. discussing their futures. A great burden had been lifted from her. It’s markings are A-GBLL. Alex was crazy about her and said he couldn’t live without her. Drained of energy.” “Do you wish me to escort it to France.” “But. That’s all.” “Mein Gott! Shoot it down? But. She surprised herself. dejected.. but contented. so sometime before dawn she finally told Alex she didn’t love him.” There was no movement on von Reiden’s part.

It couldn’t have come at a worse time.” she said slowly.” “Yes. “Still there?” “Yes. wishing she could lie down.” She opened her eyes.” “Can you pass him a high-priority note.” “Let’s scramble on this one.” She slowly pressed the button on her phone. massaging her temple. Really. Her thought patterns were still in slow motion. Anywhere. please. is going to be shot down in flight. A cafeteria bench or a corner in her office.There were no tears. Anything wrong. “Are your people certain?” “Oh. Robbie? You don’t sound yourself. bound for Whitchurch.” She cupped her forehead in her hand and closed her eyes. Go ahead.” “Right you are. after three hours sleep. “We’ve just intercepted a Falcon File message sent from Lisbon to a Luftwaffe fighter base in western France. Then she was called into Headquarters in the morning. We are. straightaway?” “Don’t see why not.” “That’s absurd! Why would the Luftwaffe shoot it down?” 213 . Spencer. I am. yes. Her office phone rang and she answered it. The note. British Airways Flight 725 out of Lisbon. “OK. How is boring old Bletchley?” “Hot! Where’s Lampert?” “He’s expected in at any moment.” “I’m fine. This is Spencer. “Robbie.

” She reached for her high heels by her feet. “Now what do you say?” “Flight 725! Why that’s the one we’re waiting for. “Thought you weren’t in today. “There.” **** Over the Atlantic The flight north was far from smooth.” she said. The pilot took the machine up another 1.” “Never you mind. slipping her second shoe firmly in place. I saw him drinking tea in the cafeteria. the air pockets bounced the DC-3 around.000 feet and the turbulence seemed to feather out.” “You mean the Germans would actually shoot down one of our passenger planes? That’s unheard of!” “I know. mister. bending down.” Langford scribbled down the information. “Do you mind?” Langford grabbed it back. and saw Hollinger traipsing through the hall. And the airliner is already en route. At 4.” “Why don’t you keep the darn things on?” “Where’s Colonel Lampert? Have you seen him?” “Yeah. but that’s how it comes out. 214 . What’s up? What you got there? Let’s see.“I don’t know. “What are you doing here?” he asked. “I’ll get on it.000 feet. stumbled out of her office.” He grabbed the sheet from her hand and read it.

“Of course. But we can’t do that.” “How close do we get to France?” “We miss the tip of Brittany by a good hundred miles. They won’t try anything.” “The DC-3 can fly around for half a day without refueling. . Got to take a wide berth around the continent. about eight hours.” “They do!” “They track our courses.” “How long will this take?” “Altogether . The Germans knew they were making this flight. Harris recalled the close proximity of the BOAC and the Lufthansa hangars and offices at Sintra Field.“Settle down. “But they know we’re here. It’s over a thousand miles to Whitchurch. As the crow flies would have been quicker.” Once more. .” “That goes without saying. “Relax. So there’s a long time yet.” “Will this thing make it? It whistles from one end to the other. and scoot back to France.” She didn’t feel comfortable with that.” He raised a hand. BOAC takes to the air along this route nearly every day.” “Eight hours!” she replied. The Luftwaffe haven’t 215 . see that we’re civilian.” Sims said to Harris in the seat beside him. “Do any German aircraft come out here?” “Quite often. . Lydia. . “Everything’s going to be all right. I’m told. They take one look. ooh .

” **** Near Nantes The ground crew chief slid the BF-110 canopy closed and clambered off the wing to the tarmac. Von Reiden reached up and snapped the safety lever in place. staying clear of the spinning propeller of the sleek twin-engine twoseater.” his navigator behind answered. sometimes. She looked down to the floor to the brown leather briefcase – the diplomatic pouch where the negatives were tucked. “ARE YOU READY. “I suppose I should’ve said something before.tried anything before. . von Reiden pointed down. Two ground crew yanked the chocks free of the wheels. Closed in. “Oh. I knew I shouldn’t have eaten all those eggs.” She turned to Sims. .” Sims frowned. we might start shooting Lufthansa planes down. “Now you tell me. Von Reiden revved the dual Daimler Benz V-12 powerplants – two thousand horsepower at his command – to 2. The DC-3 hit an air pocket and she held her breath.” She tried to cheer herself up. then strapped himself to the seat.000 RPM.” “What are you talking about?” “I get airsick . held them there. Why would they start now? If they did. LEUTNANT?” “READY WHEN YOU ARE. He pressed the intercom button with his gloved hand. HERR HAUPTMANN. then dropped 216 .

halfway down the 217 . He pressed a switch on his right to give the wing twenty-degree flap.” “RED FIVE. manufactured by Messerschmitt to wage war on German enemies to National Socialism. STAFFEL LEADER. He looked through the windscreen to the flopping windsock.” “RED THREE. DO YOU READ?” “RED TWO. into the stiff wind. HERE. They snaked their way to the longest runway. two minutes apart. STAFFEL LEADER. Left hand on the throttle levers. He pressed his R/T.them to idle. Blue flames spit out the exhaust pipes. He applied the toe brakes. Von Reiden swerved his fighter around.” “PROCEED. He had been flying them since the war began. The BF-110 was his baby. He pressed his radio transmitter button. “PROCEED. He had set down the rules in preflight. STAFFEL LEADER OUT. RED STAFFEL LEADER. facing west. “RED STAFFEL LEADER TO TOWER. READY FOR TAKE-OFF. He’d take off by himself.” The five gray-blue camouflaged Messerschmitt BF110’s pulled out of dispersal in a disciplined follow-theleader fashion. “STAFFEL LEADER TO RED FLIGHT. The Luftwaffe knew it as the Zerstorer – Destroyer.” Von Reiden ran through the routine. he revved his engines until the raw power screamed in his ears.” “RED FOUR.” Von Reiden was satisfied. They squealed. HERE. The others would bring up the rear in pairs.

The fighter jolted into motion. The wheels thumped over the concrete sections and cracks. combining with the lift under the wing. She gained speed slowly for the first few moments. The hydraulic action pulled the wheels into the belly with a thunk. The windsock came and went in a flash. A strong force was at play. Von Reiden applied hard rudder to prevent swinging in the early stages. 218 . and two men in bulky flying gear. He pressed the undercarriage switch. building up. Von Reiden advanced the throttles to his twin engines. ahead-left. He turned to his side and raised his thumb to the navigator. Then the props caught the airflow.runway. A thousand yards of beige-white concrete stretched out over the nose. The end of the runway appeared ahead. Lift-off. ammunition. Laden with fuel. Then he released the brakes. Von Reiden sighed when the wheels left the concrete. Tail up. the 12.000-pound Messerschmitt was off.

the photographs.CHAPTER SIXTEEN MI-6 Headquarters Langford glanced at Hollinger. “If Eiser is allowed to roam about free as a bird—” “He’s only one man! You want us to spoil the single most outstanding intelligence coup of the war for one man who had plastic surgery? We’ll not give up the Enigma secrets for the sake of knowing the identity of one German agent. Colonel Lampert tilted his smoking pipe towards him. They’ll know we have broken the code.” “And what is that. Well. sir.” “Absolutely not. then there’s one other option. The C-phone conversation with Churchill wasn’t what the two of them had anticipated. sir.” 219 .” “But. colonel?” “Once the aircraft gets into radio communication with Whitchurch. We can send our fighters to intercept the German fighters.” Lampert pleaded. we could order them to return to Lisbon. Besides. examining the end of it. haven’t you set a trap for him?” “If it is him. “It’s already in the air.

” “What good is intercepting the enemy’s messages if you can’t utilize the information? What the hell’s he waiting for!” The colonel looked up at the American. the only other option is to—” “Let Flight 725 get shot down.“Nothing doing. Someday you’ll see that I’m right. we might have been able to do something. Hollinger sprang from his chair. Ours not to reason why. this is a hard decision. They’ll all be killed!” Langford shot a look at Hollinger. “Seems so.” “But. She could sense a slow burn in him.” Lampert hung up. “They’re dead ducks. the strain of the decision telling on him.” He stared at Langford. I imagine. The Morse Code would be intercepted by German controllers. He shook his head at her. But it’s my decision.” Churchill sighed. “Wesley. There’s no secret code between Whitchurch and its pilots. “You know what I mean?” “The son-of-a-bitch!” Langford swallowed hard. sir. “If we had gotten the message before he left. a sorrowful. Goodbye. aren’t they?” Lampert stared past the American. Colonel. “How dare you. I don’t want you referring to our Prime Minister in that 220 . glazed look to his eyes. stiffly.” “Sir! There are twenty people on it. Mine alone.” the colonel said. “Anything we do will be suspicious. “The time when it really counts.

“I contacted Shean about that very thing. And don’t forget Coventry. The Germans know what we have. “Perhaps we can we obtain another set of negatives?” she asked. “Afraid not. but there was nothing she could say. How many died there?” “You’re non-partial in this war. We’re saving it for the time when we’ll be able to save hundreds and thousands of lives. Lampert shook his head. Breaking into the plastic surgeon’s a second time is out of the question. He left prints in the care of his girl friend in Zurich. 221 . Not yours.” Lampert answered Langford’s next question. Stay out of it. Besides.” “Didn’t our agent in Zurich make photos from the prints?” “Yes. Too dangerous. They’re on to us. We can’t have that sort of thing. “Tell that to the families of the twenty.” “Oh. . She agreed – partly – with Hollinger. .” Langford saw Lampert look to her for support. you mean. you only need to think on this matter for a moment to understand why he decided the way he did. really?” “Yes. Not . Miss Langford. that sure as hell makes me feel better.tone and using that language.” “They’re mostly our people. her voice low. just twenty. as I recall. Wesley.” Hollinger moved closer to Lampert. Wesley.” “Well. in a sealed letter.” “A fence-sitter.

“Excuse me.” He looked at her with fatherly eyes.” the colonel said.” He scuffed out of the office. Coventry was bombed. . head down. The image of Coventry in rubble the year before had come to his mind many times already. .” Hollinger said. Prime Minister Winston Churchill fidgeted quietly in the depths of the dingy War Room.Trouble was. One day .” “Then we’re up the creek without a paddle.” “Let me have a go at talking to him. Lampert shrugged. but he was playing God. He knew the logistics of the situation only too well. “You had better go to Scotland. Wesley. Tears of anger filled Churchill’s eyes. her place was ransacked. Poor devil. some day people 222 . “and see who this blasted Tommie is. “Damned if we do. The British cipher agents knew what was coming. It was on November 14.” “Thanks. Damned if we don’t. tired. Now BOAC Flight 725. The prints have vanished. But Churchill could take no action. Doesn’t see our point. “Good luck. I’ll need it.” Hollinger snapped. He wasn’t God. something awful. He’s a wee bit bothered.” **** 10 Downing Street A few miles across London. slamming the door behind him. as you can see. sir.” “Swell. sir.

” He gave way and let her pass.will thank him or at least understand why he had to make such decisions on who lived. “I’m not in the mood. and who died. One of them – nursing a drink – stepped forward. firmly. and smelled of stale liquor. Hollinger tried not to hear. A group of airmen watched Langford walk in.” “OK. smiling. “What the hell does it look like?” 223 . How many more Coventry’s and Flight 725’s would there be along the way? **** Near MI-6 Headquarters Langford found Hollinger perched against the counter in his favorite pub on a side street near Whitehall. flyboy. A fire was hissing along the far wall. What do you think you’re doing?” she asked Hollinger. The place was half-full.” she said. then finally said. beneath a picture of the King of England.” “Who bit her tail off?” a slurred voice in the group said. “Hello there. “I bet you were. lifting a glass of dark-brown liquid to his mouth. and she shouldered her way through the young men. red. sitting on the barstool next to him. Just trying to be friendly. “My word. eyeing her. What you doing later?” “Piss off. his fedora on the counter.

She nodded. I’m getting out of this God-forsaken business.” “Nice speech. One of those self-inflicted cases? Planning to get drunk?” She lit a cigarette.” she whispered a few inches from his ear. Good and slobbering drunk. And neither are you. But I’m not the Big Guy. If it’s any consolation to you. Right now I want to enjoy being miserable. I’m not in his shoes. I dunno. “Let me guess.” He put the glass to his lips.“Oh.” “That’ll be quite the achievement considering you have the whole day ahead of you.” “Serious misgivings?” 224 . “You do?” He swung to her. I might even close the place. actually.” “What is that you’re drinking?” “Stout.” she said. “Yes.” “That’s better. “I would have sent either an escort out or fighters to intercept the Germans.” He belched.” “Do you like it?” “No.” “OK. Excuse me. exhaling cigarette smoke. then. “Imagine. The worst thing I ever tasted. “I’ve had it. “Good etiquette certainly isn’t one of your strong points today. I agree with you about the Portugal flight.” He sighed.” “I feel quite up to the challenge. we sit here on our fannies while innocent people bite the bullet in a matter of minutes.

Maybe I’m developing a conscience. the air stank of exhaust mixed with a damp mist. “Like Hess defecting.” In the street. “Good idea. and trying to warn you people of what’s coming. You deaf? Should I draw you a map?” “Don’t get your knickers tied in a knot.” He drained the rest of the glass and grabbed his fedora.” Langford surprised Hollinger by throwing away her cigarette. Wesley. maybe I am. Going AWOL. and sliding her hand in his inside his greatcoat. stop your moaning. Goodbye.” “Me gutless?” He shrugged.“Yes.” He tilted the glass and drank heavily. “Well. “Look. Charlie. The gesture seemed to identify them as comrades. You mean quit?” “Yep.” “Sorry. And while you’re at it. bitterly.” she advised Hollinger firmly.” he said.” “Moaning?” “Can’t hack it. “Up and quit?” “That’s what I said. Wesley. Not here. Don’t walk so fast. “Let’s go for a walk. “Slow down.” “I see. Get some fresh air before this gets out of hand. two young people who had to grow up awfully fast for 225 . Habit of mine.” She saw the airmen looking at them from across the pub. boy? I think you’re downright gutless.

no ring?” “It wasn’t meant to be. But how did you decide so quickly? Last night—” “Please.” “But we don’t. We both did. “Hey. “Don’t take it as anything else. “Piss on him. He’s going to squeal to the Judge that we have something going. His skin felt warm. We need time to think. Do we?” “Nothing.” “Who called it off?” “I did.” She returned her hand to his coat pocket. Don’t look around.” “Right. Please. Nothing. I’m just cold. I mean. He’s out there somewhere. though. you’ve used that word today. Put some breathing space between us. “I could use a friend.” “Does this mean you’re available?” “Shut up.” “That’s the second time.” she said.” 226 . thrust into an unfair uncompromising world of politics and classified documents. Do we?” “Oh. for now. no. don’t press it.their ages.” “You’re kidding. Forget it. or are you suddenly feeling sorry for me? Wait a minute. I don’t wish to talk about it.” “What about the shadow? What if he should get the wrong idea?” She shrugged. “I didn’t think you cared.” He removed her arm to look at it. finding his hand.

“All right.” “Only until the end of the year. You’ll see the difference if your country gets into the fight. He did it with the Hess case. “Don’t quit. a sign.” she said.” “You kept a secret for me. “You sure you don’t want to talk about it?” “I’m sure. We are. 227 . play by the rules?” “No. What I’m about to tell you is Most-Most Secret. stride for stride. remember?” “Yeah. The United States is not at war with the Japs or with Hitler. so it’s about time I returned the compliment. Something. Churchill has to do what’s right for the majority of us.” “Sounds like you know something I don’t?” “I know a lot that you don’t. You worked on the Japanese code. All right!” They strolled shoulder to shoulder.” She poked him in the side. Lampert will have my head if he finds out I told you. each probing for a dent. With Hitler. Let’s walk. I guess not.” “Your background before coming to Britain was the side of intelligence as seen through the eyes of a neutral power. I remember. It’s a different world here. Coventry. “Besides. there should be.” He decided to back off. “Didn’t you know Intelligence is a dirty business? Did you think it was going to be easy and straight-forward. If there isn’t. your President knows how it is. and Flight 725.They looked into the other’s eyes. You won’t like some of the decisions made at higher levels in Washington. if there is such a thing. Neither knew what.” Hollinger said. Believe me.

“Spying!” “Earhart and her navigator.” she continued. “You’re familiar with Emelia Earhart?” she began. they were strolling through the park’s winding paths.” Langford continued. “an MI-6 agent in the Orient caught wind of the story from a woman in Hong Kong who had escaped from a work camp. surrounded by bushes.“There’s a park up ahead. “With my clearance to the MI-6 file room. A block later. What was his name?” She prodded him along until they picked up the pace once more. I stumbled on the paperwork. abruptly. “Me and half the world. 228 .” “Did you know she was spying for the American government?” He stopped. “Noonan. pulling her hand out of his coat. shall we?” They didn’t exchange a word for a few minutes. Let’s take a turn through it. Fred Noonan.” “Says who?” “Two months ago. Anyway. The government used her roundthe-world flight as a cover for her to photograph Japanese military installations in the Pacific. She claimed she saw a woman fitting Earhart’s description in Japanese custody there.” “Yes. It was a real accident. a Japanese seaplane base on the island of Saipan. And she claimed her aircraft was shot down within sight of Saipan.” “Accidentally on purpose?” “No.

We weren’t ready. Quite.” “Does my government know what happened to her?” Hollinger asked. The full details.” “The President?” “’Fraid so.” 229 . Probably not. And from there it went all the way to the top. “Bloody right they do.” “So.Earhart left the island in Japanese hands. Some say we still aren’t.” “All hush-hush. huh?” “Oh. Washington. The MI-6 agent took the information to the American Embassy at Hong Kong. what’s the point?” Langford stopped him with a tug on his arm. Alive. “To quote someone I know. Whether she’s still alive is only speculation. The White House. but how do you know Earhart was spying?” “The woman said the Japanese found aerial-photo cameras aboard her aircraft. you don’t know a snitch’. In 1937 your country was not ready for war. he could have started a war with Japan.” “Huh?” “Figure it out! Your President Roosevelt knew she went down inside Japanese territory but couldn’t rescue her or demand her return. Noonan was beheaded. Not by any stretch. ‘for a smart person. yes.” “Yeah.” “I guess you’re right. If he tried to rescue her.

Twenty people heading to their deaths.” “We’re drones.” “Yeah.” They stopped walking.” “Remember.“If he demanded her back. keep the information to yourself. I follow. even for Iron Asses. This is your training. I guess. back to you. squeezing his arm. Now.” “Robbie?” 230 .” “But think of the bigger picture.” “Will I?” “Yawohl. Don’t quit. “Yes. “Welcome to the real thick-skin world of intelligence. Your country needs people like you. She liked what she saw.” “I still don’t like it.” “You think so?” She nodded. You’re being groomed for something bigger. then he would be admitting she was spying. doesn’t this situation remind you of Coventry or Flight 725?” Hollinger realized there seemed to be some merit in what she was saying.” “Now. It’s tough at the top. Your COI is just starting up. You’ll get used to it.” he said. “Cheer up.” “Wild horses couldn’t drag it from me.” She took in his stare without a blink. “Robbie. I can feel it. mysterious eyes. Kind of like a scout for the rest. Wesley. He had wonderful. “OK.

” “Forget it.“Yes..” Grinning.” She smiled at him. “No. Wesley?” “Yeah?” “You shouldn’t have called the Big Guy a son-of-abitch in front of Lampert. he said. Maybe I should have called him a prick. We both have work to do.” “No?” She shook her head..” “What?” “Forget it. “One other thing. until he looked away.” 231 . you’re right. “Yeah. Wesley?” “I still.

Her eyes went to the window.CHAPTER SEVENTEEN Over the Atlantic Sims glanced through the square window at the solid mass of peaceful blue ocean. company’s dropping in.” He saw them too. her head bent at an odd angle to her right. sleeping beside him.’’ “I guess you did.” She glanced at her watch. matching skirt. She had been out for over an hour.” he laughed. Suddenly. her hat covering her face down to her nose. She blinked once. and long legs under clear nylons. “I guess I fell asleep. five hundred yards off starboard. “Did I snore?” “No. then turned to his companion. The sky was bright. “Look. “I say. she opened her eyes and sat up. Harris was slouched in her seat. Twice. A glare caught her eye and she pointed. as other passengers saw the five twin-engine fighters in a V-formation. She was a goodlooking woman in her brown jacket.” The cabin came alive. They were on a parallel course with 232 .

he knew the machine’s capabilities. and shoot the DC-3 in the back. “Germans!” Harris uttered. yeah. She was no 233 . I call it scared shitless!” **** Von Reiden pressed his R/T.the airliner. Checking us out. the first to bank right. We call it diplomatic immunity. As a BF-110 expert. Germans in ME-110’s. “STAFFLE LEADER TO RED FLIGHT. What did I tell you? They’re turning away. watching the ME-110’s peel off. It wasn’t until they came within one hundred feet that the passengers saw the stenciled fuselage numbers. the crosses. He saw the passengers in the windows. “Just coming for a little look-see.” Sims said. Like the Polish Front in 1939. Everything’s under control. **** “See. my dear. and two men per aircraft. His plan was to come out of the sun in a dive. FOLLOW ME. “They won’t give us any ruddy trouble.” Sims said. NOW.” “Oh. the sun reflecting off two canopies. “Thank God for that. BREAK STARBOARD. the blue-gray paint scheme. keeping pace with him. AGBLL. “Yes.” **** Von Reiden looked over his left shoulder to see his flight forming up.” Harris leaned back in her seat.” Then he led the way.

. The Battle of Britain proved that.. 8. The speed quickly built up. . The Spitfires and Hurricanes could fly circles around her. . But she could take a tight turn when need be. The DC-3 was a speck in the distance. blending into a shrill.” “RED THREE.dogfighter. 7. GUNS READY. he finished the bank. It was a serene day.” “RED FOUR.” Von Reiden flipped his mask in place. RED FOUR AND RED FIVE BREAK PORT. FIRE AT WILL ON MY SIGNAL. He watched his altimeter dial . And she could dive like a screaming eagle.” “RED FIVE. She had limited maneuverability at medium and high speeds. “STAFFEL LEADER TO RED FLIGHT. across the firmament. “STAFFEL LEADER TO RED FLIGHT. At 10. . climbing. 6. making it hard to believe they were in the midst of a war. OXYGEN ON. DO YOU READ RED FLIGHT?” “RED TWO. careful not to stall his fighter. CONFIRM.000 feet . The slipstream whistled over the canopy.. . He found it unnatural. He banked in a tight starboard turn.” Von Reiden pushed the control column forward and advanced the throttles. nose up slightly. and throttled back. I READ YOU.000. . UNDERSTOOD STAFFEL LEADER. Connected to the button was the live ammunition of four nose-mounted 7. STAFFEL LEADER. His right thumb went up the control column to the firing button. leveled out. the sun behind him.000 feet.000 . UNDERSTOOD. RED TWO AND RED THREE BREAK STARBOARD WITH ME.92mm machine 234 .

What the hell was going on! The Germans had never attacked a passenger airplane out here. hurling both of them to the deck. then to the deck. the BOAC pilot was desperate to pull the aircraft out of the dive. Sims threw himself over Harris. “Here they come again!” someone shouted. The pilot cut the power to the starboard engine and feathered the prop. Six hundred yards and closing. “FIRE AT WILL!” he belted into the R/T. He pressed the button . eh?” Harris reminded Sims. **** Windows shattered and glass splintered along the length of the plane. his aim was trained on the target. “No ruddy trouble. Within firing range. A second salvo of bullets – a longer burst – riddled the aircraft. The starboard engine was on fire. unconscious copilot. The DC-3 loomed up ahead. one shell stabbing Sims in the arm. “Stay down!” Sims scrambled to the now-punctured window beside him. **** In the cockpit. The wind was roaring through the cabin from a gaping hole flapping next to his bloody. It would be a turkey shoot. The noise was thunder to his ears and the cockpit filled with the stench of burnt cordite.guns. He collapsed to the seat. larger by the second in the reflector sight. . This wasn’t supposed to happen. A few more seconds. . The flame 235 .

The cabin quickly began to fill with water. Then she broke and cleared the rest of the glass in the nearest window. Kick off your shoes. “Heave ho. She grabbed the injured Sims and helped him to the opening. sputtering. sir!” “Send an SOS to Whitchurch!” “Yes. The port engine was leaking oil. Think clearly. Harris tried not to panic. How could this be? Why had the Germans opened fire? “McMillian?” he yelled to his terrified wireless operator. Harris and Sims found themselves three seats up the aisle.” He did just that. the DC-3 struck the water flatly. 236 .extinguished itself.” They both took a deep breath. She stepped over two bodies. Just. But it was still running. faltering. With the chilling salt water at her knees. nose up. “Yes. flinging the passengers across the deck. “Good enough. she removed her jacket and wrapped it around her arm. oblivious to her own danger. trailing black smoke. The airliner was sinking fast. sir!” **** In a glide. Salt water was pouring into the cabin. girl.” he sputtered. “Can you swim?” “A bit.

Low.. She popped up in the sunshine. except to. laboring. then followed to get free. Debris bobbing everywhere. She kicked and dove headfirst for the safety of the fuselage. Closer .. Two. There was no protection.. . “Ken!” 237 .With the water over their heads now. Sims. she swam for him and shook him. Gasping. Shivering and treading water. but his words vanished into the engine and gun racket. her lungs feeling the pressure. jostling furiously to the surface outside. Only four people – so far – had escaped the plane.. flipping her long. Bang-bang-bang. she saw Sims floating in the middle of an oil slick. the bubbling spouts sped towards her. A few feet above the water. . . wet hair to one side of her face. everybody! Dive!” she yelled. . closer . Plunk-plunk-plunk-plunk. She heard engine noises. and two other men. breathless and squinting. kicking her feet. She waited several seconds. she pushed him through the window with all her might. The smell of gas and oil pinched her nostrils. When she returned to the surface. she turned. looked up.. . and the line of strafing bullets peppering the water. Sims tried to say something. “Dive. . The German fighters broke away and were swooping down at them. She saw the red blinks . They were close enough for her to see the black crosses and swastikas..

by itself. A few feet short of her destination. His nerves twitched. She swam for the other. Two more were winding out of violent dives. the last spasms of life in him. Was she the only one left alive? She saw that the wing had separated itself from the fuselage. Not again. They had spotted her! How badly did these Nazi bastards want every passenger dead? It was as if they had kicked open an ant hill and were trying to stamp out every last ant. Blood and pieces of her friend’s brain – the thickness and color of thick porridge – covered his matted hair. She vomited.It was no use. What was keeping the wing up? An air pocket inside? Then she heard the clatter behind her. Only the top few inches of the main portion of the DC-3 were left above the water line. in the distance. Bang-bang-bang. The top of the agent’s head had been blown clear off. Two fighters were skimming the water. She dove under water for the wing. banking. lining up for another attack. she fluttered. she glanced around for the other two. forty feet away. following the first two. Blood covered them both. No pulse there either.. the wing would be all that was left afloat. Soon. Bang-bang-bang. she felt a terrible sting in her 238 . They were floating a short distance away.. She swam to the nearest one. riding the swells. One more. She kicked. she swung her body around. She felt his wrist for a pulse. Nothing. Shivering. Pulling herself together.

hanging onto the side. Only mere feet off the water. they were gone. and she tucked under it for safety. she lunged her way to the wing. She lay there. At last. She tried to spit it out. allowing the lashing swells to rock her. She spread her arms out. breathing strenuously. She poked her head up. falling onto the wing face down.right thigh.. For a time. Or sink. Very low. slipping in beside it. but she shivered uncontrollably. The second line of fighters roared directly over. Bang-bang-bang. They didn’t see her. 239 . She struggled to haul herself from the water. The sea water in her cuts hurt something awful. If they hit the wing she knew it would go up in flames. They banked – all five – and made another pass. Or both. Oh. She had taken a shell. Or else they would have fired. The engine noise carried across the water and faded to a distant buzz. She saw blood on her right arm. please don’t let a bullet hit the tank. guns pounding in short bursts. Then all was quiet. God. In every direction – nothing but miles of open water. Bang-bang-bang. An oppressive taste of salt hung in her mouth.. It was there to stay. Once. Her whole body was numb. One chunk of wing poked slightly out of the water. Still underwater. Thank God. The wing was warm from the sun. This time they didn’t shoot. Airsickness was bad enough. catching her breath. She was spared. all Harris could hear were the fighters’ engines in the distance. It was no use. Twice. Now she was getting seasick. Her right thigh was aching.

” “It’s over?” “Appears so. Quote – WE’RE BEING ATTACKED BY ENEMY AIRCRAFT. diplomatic immunity? **** MI-6 Headquarters Lampert jotted the information on a pad of paper. grimly. sir?” she asked. “Whitchurch received a Morse Code signal from BOAC Flight 725. He folded his arms. who had just arrived with some Enigma intercepts from the Russian Front.Where was she? She tried to keep her head up.” he said. What was that about . Nazi shore.” He sadly put the telephone receiver down and stared at Langford. looking down at his sheet. ONE ENGINE ON FIRE. “What. “It’s time like this that makes me want to retire early. LOSING ALTITUDE.” “What do we do now?” she asked coldly. although she already knew the answer. Land. “Thank you. What were the chances? Didn’t Sims say they were at least a hundred miles from shore. “It’s done. to look for land. . too.” **** 240 . hell. .” He sighed. The transmission went out before they could give a position. “Send an air-sea rescue to see if anything or anybody’s left.

who is this?” “Berlin. She was the long-range PBY. Astern lay two double-decker bunks. Who is this. Today. Is that satisfactory enough?” “Excellent. please?” “Was the mission successful?” “I said.” **** Atlantic Ocean The cockpit. whoever you are. Let’s just say I’m an associate of your friend in Portugal. an electric hot plate.” “A most unfortunate incident. a sufficiently-stocked food locker. “Yes. it appeared they had come up empty-handed. After several long hours the air-sea rescue crew of the Royal Air Force PBY Flying Boat were ready to verify their position and set a course home to England. Goodbye Major Jodel. She was a self-contained aircraft. Once-keen 241 . and the navigator compartment were wide and roomy. It was successful. It had to be Himmler. There was no evidence. a mound of modern medical supplies. “Major Jodel?” “Yes. I will sleep well. Nevertheless.” The major felt a lump in his throat. and extra blankets for the crew’s airsea rescue work. the flight engineer post.” “I hope you will sleep well tonight.Near Nantes A bad phone line from Berlin crackled in his ear.

“I SAY.and intense eyes were now tired. SKIPPER!” “BY GOD. eyeing the glint of metal through his binoculars. ONE PERSON ABOARD. The pilot pushed on the throttles to the dual engines high on top of the wings.” “I SEE SOMETHING THREE POINTS OFF THE STARBOARD BOW!” the sergeant exclaimed.” he acknowledged in his headset. entered it in his log. UNKNOWN. THERE’S SOMEBODY DOWN THERE. executing a bank to the right. nothing else. “PILOT HERE. they had patrolled in northto-south strips. I SEE IT. GOT THAT?” 242 .” “HERE. SKIPPER. “YEAH. There was a lot of sea. and gave it to the pilot over the intercom.” The pilot flicked the intercom button on his headset. SIGHTED WHAT APPEARS TO BE THE WING OF A DOWNED DC3 IN SEARCH SECTOR FOUR. starting from the west. “STARBOARD BLISTER TO PILOT!” the sergeant in the center hatch bubble shouted over the intercom.” “SEND A MESSAGE TO WHITCHURCH. IT LOOKS LIKE THERE IS. STAND BY FOR COMPLETE EVALUATION IN A FEW MINUTES. The navigator got his fix. Under four-tenths cloud at ten thousand feet. NORTH-NORTHEAST. “PILOT TO WIRELESS. He made one pass at five hundred feet and looked straight down. The sun was sinking and they were too close to France – Nazi territory. STATUS. No Kraut U-Boats either.

SKIP. the man knelt over the woman. Downwind. .” he said. and splashed into the water a few hundred feet from the wing. . Her right thigh had a large bloodstain. her head cradled against a rolled-up blanket under her neck. It was weak. Then he applied power until he was alongside the piece of metal. but pumping. reeking of salt and oil. She’s alive!” A second man jumped into the water. she looked up at two men. “Give me a hand.” The pilot descended at the rate of two hundred feet per minute in a tight circle. and then came to when they gently moved her into the Catalina and wrapped two thick blankets around her chilly body. She was face down. It’s a woman.“GOT IT. He waved for help. The pilot advanced the throttles and lifted off the water surface. The 243 . Harris lay on her back. he swept low on another pass.” to her rescuers. “Thank you. who were now stripped to their waists and drying themselves off. jumped into the water. The sergeant left the hatch. Harris was conscious of men’s voices as they were handling her. Through cracked lips. “Easy with her. she mouthed a weak. and swam a few feet until he found a woman in a white blouse and brown skirt. He came around. Voices . She blacked out. her clothing pasted to her body. reduced power and speed. He gently reached for one of her sunburned arms to check her pulse. Climbing aboard the floating wing. soaked through her skirt.

“You’re safe now. . the Kuriles lay between the Japanese mainland and Siberia. She was flooded by a dulling warmth for the first time in hours.” one man said. he gave her a mug of hot coffee. soon as we get into shore.” The man smiled. Looks like she had a rough afternoon. But she could only utter one long sigh. Sitting up. running his hand through his wet hair. “Don’t worry.” With tender hands. Thank you. Shrouded in clammy fog most of the year. Then she closed her eyes . and passed out from the pain in her thigh. . “We’d better look after that wound you got there. gratefully. a thousand miles north of Tokyo.” **** Tankan Bay. “All in a day’s work. she pressed her fingers around the cup before drinking from it. ma’am.” “Thank you. The whole sickening episode filled her thoughts. He checked her arm. and she tried to open her mouth to say more. straight from a thermos. too. thawing her out.” “Let her sleep. “Her pulse is stronger already. Japan An ocean away. She accepted. ma’am. You took a bullet did you?” “Yes.blankets wrapped over her were working. She smiled and swallowed. this chain of 244 .” “You’re not kidding.” he said. He took back the coffee and held it for her.

Vice Admiral Chuichi Nagumo. Their orders from Tokyo had been explicit. The remaining five destroyers held a course several miles ahead. aboard the carrier. Ships of all other nations were to be boarded and their radios seized. or he would turn back to port. The Force weighed anchor and slipped out to sea in dense fog. Any Dutch. They meant business. Thirty-one ships were deployed. undetected. This massive unit of men and machinery was directed by Commander in Chief of the Japanese First Air Fleet. a Japanese Task Force had steamed into Etorufu – the largest of the Kurile Islands. wintry days. Nine destroyers.fifty bleak and volcanic Pacific islands had seen snowflakes in the air for several gray. the battleships protecting the rear. So there they lingered for four days. Either he would maintain his eastern course at thirteen knots. 245 . The submarines. Two heavy cruisers. cruisers. Akagi. The carriers steamed in two parallel columns. in the pre-dawn of the 26th. . American. and four destroyers secured the carriers’ flanks. Then . . Three submarines. On November 22. Eight tankers. a second set of orders came. and British vessels encountered along the way were to be fired on and sunk. One light cruiser. scouting for the fleet. The fleet was under strict radio silence. Nagumo’s next order would be to wait on a final coded message from Tokyo. Stand by. Six carriers. Two battleships.

Silsoner’s Equitable. Hell. Sit down.C. – November 27 It was a cool morning in the capital when Smith and Colonel Donovan once again conferred at COI Headquarters. Chapman & Company to hold the paperwork.” Donovan flipped through the shots.CHAPTER EIGHTEEN Washington. compliments of Aris and Smith. a Morgan bank. Loeb and Company. more invisible ink 35mm shots through a red filter of I. Clever. “National City Bank. Henry Silsoner was at the meeting. these are some of the biggest banks in the 246 . Filberg contracts. “Nothing surprises me lately. Kuhn. Donovan had the photos in his hands. sir. “And they’re using Kerr.” Donovan told Smith.” Donovan said. too? Why am I not surprised?” Smith sat in a chair. Aris was right.” Donovan admitted. “So. Both owned by the Rockefellers. turning in his chair. Trust Company. the big boys have bobbed to the surface. Dillion. “Thank you. son.S. “Three more New York firms.” “Me neither. D. Read and Company.

” Donovan stared at his white textured ceiling.S. He steered for the second hangar on the right. and who knows what else. The crew were alongside the fuselage. All sending millions to the Nazis through I. 247 .” **** Hamburg The security guard at the airfield gate recognized Heinrich Himmler in the back seat of the black Gestapo Mercedes and removed his grip on the machine gun. what they are doing is perfectly legal. the pilot smoking a cigarette. twenty minutes of daylight remained.world. we could be going to war with these people. tanks.” The driver put the car in gear. A hundred feet opposite the door.” “The annoying thing is. . ball bearings. Filberg for Hitler’s war machine. “Thank you.” Donovan found his way to other glossy photos. and forged past the steel and wire gate. The wide door was open. “To help the Nazis build fighter and bomber planes. sir. and strode slowly across the concrete towards the opening. the sun falling on the nose of the JU-52 transport. Himmler and Eiser got out. “You may proceed. At best. . “It’s just .” “I know. at stiff attention.” he snapped to the driver.

Ration book. Himmler smiled. I was badly injured – burnt – at Dunkirk with the medical corps.” Eiser nodded. taking the information in. Herr Reichsfuehrer.” “I am at your service. Eiser. Return quickly. “Do you have everything you need?” “Yes. Herr Reichsfuehrer. a colleague is bound to. I’ve worked on that. “The weather calls for clear skies. War Office pass. this Jordan fellow.” They proceeded through the hangar door. to such a degree that I needed plastic surgery on my face. It’s all in the medical bag.” “Very good. Your next assignment awaits you. and blazer attire marked him as a common Englishman. His fedora. The lot. Writers have their own grapevine.” “Yes. “Good luck. my doctor ID. cloud later over the North Sea. English paper and coin currency.” Himmler said.” “Passwords?” “Committed to memory.” “This man in London. Can you trust him to give you what you need?” “If he doesn’t know.“Our Greenland station reported in. lethal injection.” “Make sure you establish a rendezvous return with Denise once you make contact with her. so that she can radio Hamburg for a return flight. head down. Do you have a good alibi for him? He will want to know where you’ve been for two years.” 248 . turtleneck. Herr Reichsfuehrer. Herr Reichsfuehrer. hands behind his back. coldly.” “Yes.

” The Gestapo leader lifted his head. “Positive. Without her. Eiser. the Nazi invasions of Norway.” They stopped under the wing of the DC-3. Although poky and bulky.Himmler wondered if he was that loyal. and his conversation with Major Jodel. Crete.” **** East Coast of Scotland The three-engined Junkers JU-52 transport was the most durable aircraft in the Luftwaffe aerial arsenal. Tell the truth.” “By the way. Due to her double-wing 249 .” “Spoken like a true Englishman. Herr Reichsfuehrer. “One other thing. the JU-52 had a distinct feature that allowed her to be a valuable piece of machinery in spy operations. Eiser. Himmler glanced down at the concrete. Are you absolutely positive no one in England knows my new face?” Himmler’s next thoughts fell upon the BOAC flight out of Lisbon. “Why did you have to shoot Buhle’s poodle?” “It peed on my leg. “Don’t flatter me.” “Oh.” “Yes.” “Just a tad. Tunisia. You like the money and benefits. sir. and Russia would not have been successful.

The pilot kept an eye out for RAF fighters and Coastal Command twin-engines. This was going to be difficult – but not impossible – at night with radio silence.construction of full-flaps and ailerons. The weather reports were wrong. Now cloud appeared over the North Sea. Under a low ceiling. “She’s getting worse. The fog had engulfed Denise. flying on dead reckoning and bare wits. merging water and sky into one mass. Schnapps helped there too. **** On the tarred road. his training ground for such missions. Wesley Hollinger stood poised with the Secret Service men of Blue Force. all armed with automatic pistols. Then came an unexpected fog once the transport reached the Scottish coast. He had flown in worse conditions on the Russian Front. Only the glow of the four fires spaced in a line twenty feet apart were visible more than three hundred yards across the field. the sky had been clear. When the unmarked JU-52 carrying Adam Eiser left the Hamburg airstrip at sundown. Max. he continued undaunted. opposite the grass airstrip.” Hollinger said. 250 . A shot of schnapps from the bottle he had in his boot helped. their two cars hidden in the bushes. she could land and take-off in only a few feet of space. The last thing the pilot wanted was to be sent off course. Then a moderate crosswind picked up.

he was returning to the country of his birth. return. Then take care of him. Find the prisoner. They were losing this war. After a two-year absence. “Still on course?” Eiser asked. and to a welcoming committee of one.” answered Max Preston. yes. Then . no sign of the fires.” “Oh. Confront him. At least there was no wind. go back. . Identify him. covering the flame with his hand.” “I do. . **** Denise buttoned her coat to her neck and edged closer to one of the fires. **** Adam Eiser peered over the cockpit seats at the orange and yellow-lit instrument panel. The copilot nodded. We . 251 . Poor misguided Britain. Hess or no Hess. Badly. . “You know.“Seems so.” The Englishman struck a match. “A real Scottish pea-souper. He mulled the mission over in his mind. The altimeter read four hundred feet. not bothering to glance back. the man with him. I can’t figure out why he’s coming back. the other side was freezing. I forgot. And be rewarded. Never took up the habit. One side of her was warm.” He sighed. England. Typical late November in this part of Scotland. She turned around. . Ahead.” “Sounds to me as if you know this Eiser fellow. Inform Hitler of Himmler’s treachery. A damp coldness had invaded the lowlands tonight. Smoke?” “No thanks.

Which meant they couldn’t see her. She ran for the end of the field. He banked right to line up to the left of the fires. Hollinger and Preston glanced up as a thundering silhouette made a pass overtop in the foggy darkness. Preston stamped out his cigarette. tugging at his fedora. “Nice going.” The pilot didn’t reply. **** The JU-52 copilot pointed to the glow. clear of the flight path. She couldn’t see the Secret Service men through the ever-thickening fog.” Eiser said. British engines didn’t sound like that. all right. the pilot made a necessary visual of the field. the length and width now imprinted on his mind. **** At an altitude of fifty feet. “That’s it. “Is that her?” “She’s a JU-52.her backside to the flame.” Three Secret Service men stepped out from the cars in the bushes. “I’d know that sound anywhere. Time to anti-up.” replied Preston. That was not good. Then he banked and leveled off for final 252 . **** On the ground. Then she heard the rumble of engines.

“How are you doing back there?” the copilot asked Eiser. and spun around. 253 . **** She watched the transport airplane make a perfect landing opposite the farthest of the fires.approach. squatting down. He caressed the small steel acid capsules in his left blazer pocket. The fires were dead ahead. telephone wire. He eased the stick forward. burning away through the mist. “Having the time of my life.” “Sorry. He looked down at his carrying bag. The pilot pushed back on the column. An image formed. and the holster inside his shirt that contained the instrument he called “the shaft”. In seconds. Eiser fell backwards on the deck. “Look out!” the copilot shouted. I’m not sticking around any longer than I have to. He flew over what appeared to be a clump of trees. carrying a small piece of luggage. Good luck. The German airplane bounced to the end of the field. total silence once more.” Eiser picked himself up. Get yourself to the hatch. running the few feet to the center of the fires. Heil Hitler. I am. The engines noise rose and the aircraft took to the air in only a few feet. a gold-plated ball-point pen that with one click turned into a knife with a thin. three-inch-long blade.

Hurry. We’d better douse the fires. Just the way I remember Britain. Either the man was very good with an English accent or he really was English. “Let’s go. Pleased to meet you.” “Tommie?” “At your service.” “Heil Hitler.” Denise turned the ignition of the Vauxhall parked off the narrow tarred road. looking across at her in the front seat.” 254 . “The blackbird flies after midnight. Heil Hitler. Your name is Floyd Hogan. “Where to?” he asked. “I’ve booked a room for you. It’s horrible. After that. This way. Denise?” “Yes. I will then make the arrangements for your flight to Germany. He will notify me of your return. stopping short ten feet back. I hope you know your way in this soup.” she insisted.” She tended to the flames by grabbing a shovel and digging up pieces of turf and snuffing the flames out. Careful. you’re on your own. “A country inn about four miles from here. and smoothed his hair.” “Of course.” she said. she thought. Her mind was spinning. Act normal.” the woman replied. “Only on Sunday.She ran for the image. calm yourself.” “Fair enough. He placed his carrying bag by his feet. I know the innkeeper.” “Likewise. “I have my car waiting. He removed his fedora for a moment. Denise.

her heart raced away on her. But the man anticipated the move. Her hand went for the door knob. As she strug255 . The man in the hat and sunglasses – Rudolf Hess in her car. He grabbed her by the hair and twisted. “You are jittery. Then Hess escaped the base and crashlanded – shot down – near Glasgow. Denise. They passed the old cemetery on the left. his tone unfriendly. What is the matter?” She needed a comeback. Now this. The bait to lure one more German agent. Creeping. The fog was too thick – the visibility was down to twenty feet – and she didn’t want to miss the crossroad where the Secret Service men were laying in wait to intercept Tommie. She had taken the wrong road – the south road – and messed up the rendezvous. She had driven him to Dunampton aerodrome. her thoughts went back to the May sub drop in daylight. She slowed down. She turned the wheel and pulled the small black vehicle onto the bumpy road. She had talked with him. She slammed on the brakes.” she said quickly. She drove on. In an instant. Slower. In a panic. “Why are you slowing down?” he asked. Out of the corner of her eye. She could not drive too fast. The crossroad was coming up.She laughed nervously. she could see Tommie’s head turning to her. “I can’t see. The blackout headlights – only two small beams – made everything worse.

Like falling into the flames of a furnace. **** They heard the rumble of the engine first. 256 . jumped a wet ditch. They split into two groups and walked around the front of the car. Everything went black. reaching for his knife. After a few hundred feet.” Eiser uttered. it burned something awful. . **** Eiser leaped from the motorcar. Hollinger flicked on his flashlight.gled. stinging burn. he turned to the left. “Come on!” Hollinger hollered. The headlights were on. She couldn’t see. she felt a liquid thrown against her face . he took to the grassy edge of the road. Then the muffled scream. Hollinger – on the driver’s side – probed the inside with his light. the men ran in the direction of Denise’s piercing cry for help. “Amateurs. crouching low. They advanced on it. She screamed. No one. the engine running. A painful. and ran in the opposite direction to where Denise had been taking him. Not to be heard. They saw the Vauxhall in the middle of the road. **** Pistols drawn. . falling to his knees. twice. and stumbled across a weeded field.

Bloody throat. Lucky bugger! I’m afraid we’ll have to wait until morning. “Only one man kills like that.” 257 . “Acid to the face. “What are we waiting for? Let’s find him.” “Eiser?” asked Hollinger. bending over her. “Unfortunately.” “Yeah. He’s back.” Preston grunted.” Preston shook his head.” Hollinger agreed. “The colonel won’t like this. I think you’re right. Where he left off. And he’s starting early. It’s a different kind of cut than I remember. “He has to be the luckiest man on earth!” Preston’s outburst surprised Hollinger. Preston kicked the car. Preston nodded. He must’ve known we had laid a trap for him. Hollinger.He opened the door and Denise’s body slid headfirst to the road. “In this soup? We don’t have a prayer.” “Quite so. Dammit all. lately. though.” “He doesn’t like much of anything. Less bloody. There’s no way of sealing off the area.” “But obviously still effective. Mr.” “So it is him.” In a fit of anger.” “True enough.

or why he’s back.” he said. “Any word from Preston?” “Nothing! Eiser vanished. Never! He’s roaming about free somewhere and we don’t know what he looks like. The Judge left word with his staff that he wanted to see Hollinger the minute he arrived in the building. He was still tired from his trip up north. ready to explode.” Lampert puffed on his pipe. Wesley.” 258 . sir. “Yes. the young American appeared. Thirty minutes later. And why not? This is his home turf.CHAPTER NINETEEN MI-6 Headquarters – November 28 That afternoon. He was steaming. “No. “All hell seems to be breaking loose. We don’t know his cover.” Hollinger sat silently.” “Eiser never should have gotten away. “Sit down. He knows his way around. we don’t. doesn’t it?” “You’re telling me. And on top of that he speaks an excellent English.” Hollinger complied. drumming his fingers on his desktop.

While you were gone. “I dunno. She refuses to give her name or say anything until she speaks to someone from her Embassy. A woman.” “Someone actually survived?” “Yes.” “Another thing.” The intercom buzzed. Margaret.” Lampert hung up. there was a new development. “I wonder what they want?” “I’ve been expecting them. “Guy’s Hospital?” the American asked. the colonel glanced over at Hollinger. are you?” “Who. Don’t let your Embassy get a hold of this. Doctor. Lampert flicked a switch. What’s with you and Langford?” “What do you mean?” “Getting a little chummy?” Hollinger recalled the walk with her in the park. “MI-6 has a good source at Guy’s Hospital.“Yes.” “Right.” Listening.” Lampert composed himself and stared at Hollinger. Flight 725 had a survivor.” “Thank you.” Lampert lifted the receiver.” 259 . “Hello. Who’s business is it?” “You’re not sweet on her. I suggest you get over there on the double and ask her some questions. Margaret?” “Colonel. it is. I will. me? I don’t like redheads. “Yes. Colonel Lampert here. Line two. Thank you very much. We had her flown into London. “Yes. American. Guy’s Hospital on the telephone. Maybe.

” Hollinger said. “Wesley Hollinger. “Oh. ma’am?” She brushed her hand through her hair.” **** Guy’s Hospital Lydia Harris was resting in bed when Hollinger found her in the private ward.” “On what?” “Who you are?” He flashed his ID at the blonde. What’s more.“Now. her arm bandaged. her hair tangled. I’m sure she’s scared enough as it is. sir?” “It wouldn’t be proper for you to meet her like that. “Good afternoon. removing his hat. her face flushed. wondering if this was going to be another alert for one of the knotheads tailing him. And it’s best they stay out of this.” 260 . She was sitting up in her gown.” “COI? The American spy agency?” “Not so loud. we want to keep this out of the papers. Your fly’s open.” “Then you’re not from the Embassy?” “Nope. “It depends. faraway. and Wesley?” “Yes.” Hollinger stood.” “Huh? What do you mean?” “Look down. devoid of makeup. COI. Her eyes were glassy. run along. “How do you do?” “May I talk to you.

So.” “Yes. “Correspondent.” “Trust me.” “Why?” “Classified. I gashed my arm somehow.“That so?” “Yes. I don’t remember doing it. We’re both on the same side. are you?” “That’s right. a friend of a friend I know in Switzerland. But other than that I’m great. How the hell do you think I’m feeling? Pretty damn rotten.” “Really. I work in collaboration with MI-6. “I took a cannon shell in my thigh and I was unconscious for about half a day. May I ask why you were on the flight?” “I don’t know if I should answer that.” 261 . I flew over with an Englishman from Portugal. “All right. eh? In London? What gives here?” “Let’s say I’m observing for Washington. ma’am. “OK. ma’am.” she replied reluctantly.” “How’re you feeling?” She coughed.” “American intelligence.” “Who for?” “New York Times in Switzerland.” It was plain to Hollinger that she was in discomfort.” She hesitated. considering I’m the only survivor of a passenger plane shot down by German fighters. what brings you overseas?” “I’m a writer.

“I . It’s just .” “Sims had them in a briefcase.” She nodded back.” She hesitated again.” “Where are the negatives? We’ve been waiting for them.” 262 . “Yes. glanced at them. I really don’t want to talk about the details. .” “Ken Sims. but was shot by the fighters in the first pass. She rolled her eyes. The plane struck the water. The only thing I could think of was to get out.” “That’s understandable. Sims made it too. .” “Welcome to London. We were attacked. if you please. Did you look at the negatives? What can you tell me about them?” He withdrew a notebook and pen from his coat pocket. “How do I know I can trust you?” “You can. Everything happened so fast. Lydia Harris. excuse me.” “They went into the drink with everything else. concentrating. “You! So you were the one flying with him. by chance?” “Yes. . Let’s have it.” Hollinger felt a chill of goose bumps forming on his arms. that .“What’s the name?” “Who?” “The one in Portugal. . Harris. Miss? Mrs?” “Miss. . . Put them up to the light a couple times.” “Shit! Oh. I am. everything’s been going wrong lately.” “You must be the courier from Zurich. The man in Switzerland wouldn’t be David Shean.

“And as far as you’re concerned.” “It’s a start. Some big wheel in Berlin.” Hollinger turned for the door. ma’am. “One last question.” He looked towards the door. Hollinger.” “Someone pretty high up the ladder had to authorize it. Miss Harris. yes.” “No they don’t. Got it?” A nurse entered the room.“Anything!” She took a breath.” “You guys are on the ball.” “Anything at all? Any identifying features?” “A moustache. Was my roommate hurt?” “They never touched her. Mr. Did the Germans shoot our plane down just for those three negatives?” “It appears so. “And how are we feeling today?” She held out a thermometer. Shean said the prints were nowhere to be found. “We or me in particular?” she mumbled.” “Not any more. right?” “Right. Flight 725 had engine trouble.” “Those Germans don’t miss anything. It’s hard to tell with negatives.” “You’re telling me. then opened wide for the 263 . that’s all I can recollect.” “Dirty business. Harris looked at Hollinger oddly. I won’t say who.” “I want you to know that I have prints.” “What do you mean?” “Your house in Zurich was ransacked while you were away. “I can’t really say.

sir. Before the nurse could respond.” Jordan had made one excursion already to that part of the country and wasn’t looking forward to another.” The nurse glared at Hollinger. “Speaking.stick of mercury. “That’s a long bloody way. Accent. “Just leaving. “Good idea. on the road into town.” **** London Daily Telegraph “News Desk.” “I want to talk to Stephen Jordan.” “What in particular?” “Not over any telephone line.” “Who are you?” “A friend of Jack Buford. Wait’ll you hear the Cockneys.” Jordan lowered his voice. “It’s another language this side of the pond. Scottish.” “I’ve something you’ll be interested in seeing. “Where’s that?” “Five miles south of Motherwell.” he said. How do I get there?” 264 . adjusting it under her tongue. ma’am. uneducated.” The voice was coarse.” “Meet me at the Orkney Inn.” “I see. She took it. Hollinger said.

All signs were removed in 1940 under the threat of a German invasion. Every Scottish and English village had a pub. First.” **** Southern Scotland At dawn. Eiser ditched the fourcylinder. of course. a pub. He knew how to run boats. what with the rationing. He 265 . Hotwiring the auto had been easy. his body filled with Benzedrine tablets – he considered his next move. There were no signs identifying the place. two stores and. Boat. He couldn’t use her to return to Germany. Take the morning Glasgow train. assuming he was still there. He looked around and saw a post office. which he had stolen three miles from the spot he left Denise very dead. arriving at the train station. Anything that could float across the Channel or North Sea. under partial-cloud. Train to London.. black Hudson saloon. He swiped a bicycle and followed a set of rail tracks into a village.“Here’s the directions. he had to find a can and a rubber hose. He had to think of alternatives. Denise was a trap. Driving it any distance – especially during daylight – was tough. Wide-eyed – Eiser hadn’t slept for a day and a half. Fishing trawler. But he did it. then proceed to siphon a few gallons. His plans had changed now. Finding petrol had been even tougher. He didn’t know where he was. A surprise visit with an old acquaintance..

Sometimes overnight and weekends. “Try the village up the road. but he can’t hide.had owned a small yacht in Argentina.” He waved and pointed at the western horizon to the other driver. then pulled the hood up to run his fingers along the engine. Used it to entertain his lady friends.” **** 266 . “That’s the one. Max?” Preston looked at his driver. He nodded to the driver in the other MI-6 auto. He also had a friend or two at the Swiss Embassy in London. He was starving. if they were still there. Then he strolled into the adjoining cafeteria and ordered fish and chips. “Where to. paid his two-pounds-ten and bought a ticket for the London-bound train slated to arrive in thirty-five minutes. The KBA 49 registration number confirmed it. Warm to touch. Undoubtedly ditched in the last half-hour. lifted last evening from a country yard. “He can run. His last meal was the previous evening in Hamburg. He went to the outside window beside the platform. removing himself from the passenger seat and stepping onto the tarred road.” Preston said. Maybe less. **** Max Preston and the two other Blue Force men found the abandoned black Hudson by a bend in the road. Not this time.

By the time the train for London had pulled in. He felt tired. turning. stood ahead of a woman and her two twin boys about thirteen. madam. and watched the ticket collector accept those aboard.” “Ticket. “I have my own private practice in Liverpool. Eiser dug for it. as Eiser moved towards the train. “Here you are. please. “Are you a doctor?” one of the boys asked. as a matter of fact.” 267 . “We always need doctors. Eiser.” the collector asked Eiser.” “Yes. black bag in hand. tugging at the fedora he hated. “What hospital?” the woman wanted to know. The Benzedrine was wearing off. especially during this time. the station was packed with people of all ages. we surely do.” the woman said. including men and women in uniform with their kitbags.” “That’s nice. my good man.” Eiser said. “Yes. I am.

the reporter had stood in the first compartment. Mothers. Officers and ranks. Once was enough to know.CHAPTER TWENTY Northern England – November 29 The Saturday morning train was busy. Near Nottingham. Jordan played it cool. a small town outside Glasgow. and onto the concourse. Standing room only. Using the crowd as a cover. reminding Jordan of a crammed cattle car. would turn around every so often. and smoky. The body odor was the worst. Fathers. Daughters. Their eyes locked once. three seats up. For the first one hundred miles. A well-dressed man in a brown fedora. Army. smelly. 268 . Navy. several people stood to get off. down the steps. Then he ran for it. penciling in a newspaper crossword. Air Force. At the next stop. But by Leeds he had suspected something. Jordan darted from his seat. Men and women in the service. he had found his way to a seat in the rear section. Sons. It seemed that everyone in England was taking the train north to Glasgow this day.

“Hey. please. I don’t know what you were drinking. “Operator. They stopped. why didn’t you go after him?” “Whatever are you talking about. This is ridiculous. At Glasgow. And you’re following me.. A pause. the last stop. No sign of him on the concourse. he walked off with the others. pal. dear boy?” “For the love of Mike.” Hollinger watched the man jump into a taxi. And we both work for Lampert. inches apart. Hollinger got up and walked to the compartment’s rear.**** The train started before Wesley Hollinger realized he had lost the man in the dark-rimmed glasses.” “I’d like to make a call to London. sir.. He slowed down until he was one of the last in the line.” the man said. but you had better have another and get a good sleep out of it. He suddenly turned around. poking a stiff-faced man in the ribs. Hollinger returned to his seat. “Excuse me. He had turned around and Jordan wasn’t there anymore. Oxford 9-41-2. What gives?” “I beg your pardon. “That will be two-and-sixpence. He opened the door to outside. I was following Jordan. then he headed to a telephone booth.” Hollinger said into the receiver.” 269 . Annoyed with himself.

Wesley. are you there?” “Wesley. I want a little more respect. you must have had a hard day.” Hollinger waited for a response. first. He got the secretary.” “Colonel? It’s Wesley. He dropped the appropriate ones into the slots.” “Where?” “Near Motherwell. sir. “Lampert here.. Then. . Click-click . Would you be so kind as to get your damn tail off me?” “Wesley.” “Yes. I lost him.Hollinger dug into his back pocket.” “Confounded man! How did you manage that?” “He got off with some others. You’re not going to like this..” **** 270 . do not speak another word over this line. Margaret. What do you have?” “Not much. pulled out a fistful of coins. Call him off! Now! Before I notify Wild Bill that a certain organization has been spying on a representative from the White House. What tail are you referring to?” “I’ve been followed for months and you know it. sir. The phone began to ring. .” “Where are you?” “Glasgow. and studied them. By the way. “Colonel.” “Respect?” “You know what I’m talking about.

Just don’t get caught. Piece of cake.” **** Near Motherwell. At a pub a block from the train stop. He’d have to hurry. Jordan borrowed the owner’s bicycle with the promise he’d return it. colonel. the owner said.” “I do.” “Yes.” “So what! Keep up your surveillance. Right there by the road. again. Take the west road out of town. Maybe no one was after him at all. that’s all. A smell in the air indicated rain on the way. If you say so. Jordan’s legs were sore by the time he peddled off the tarred road leading into the old stone and clapboard 271 . But he had to be sure. With dark clouds approaching from the west. sir. “Keep it up?” “That’s what I said. Turn right at the clump of trees and go about two or three miles. Scotland It worked. Nothing to it.” Churchill answered. Jordan asked directions for the Orkney Inn.10 Downing Street Churchill listened to the voice on his C-phone receiver in the depths of the War Room. Don’t stop now. A quick exit was the only answer. “He knows. then past the stone wall. Nobody followed him.

The truck was drafty.” The stranger’s breath smelled of pipe tobacco. This was a farmer’s rain. let out the clutch. “Up the road. “Where are we going?” Jordan asked. lad. The stranger put the wipers on. Ten minutes later. Leave the bike round the corner. exposing the padding. just in time. A whiskered farmer about fifty. No foreseeable letup. small sheep and cattle herds. In the gravel lot were a few trucks and autos.” “How are you?” “Can’t complain. appraising the Londoner. desolate country. stepped down from a dented truck and met the journalist near the door.” They got into the truck.” “You bet. The bench seat had worn through in spots. in dirty coveralls and rubber boots. Steady. It’s safe here.Orkney Inn. He had made it. the 272 . A few minutes from here. except for the occasional heavy woods and bushes. And it all looked worse under the rain and the dark. Rain began to fall. sir. and in desperate need of a new muffler. and scattered buildings. The stranger pushed the starter. grinding the first two gears. He pressed the accelerator of the rough-running motor. chilly. cloudy skies. but were doing the job. “Yes. “You Stephen Jordan?” He offered his hand. This was ugly. How are you?” “Don’t ask. and pulled onto the road. Jordan had never been impressed by the moors. They squeaked loudly. Hop in.

Inside a zipper part of a briefcase. something’s fishy about that Rudolf Hess flight.” “Looking? Looking for what?” “Lost papers that were in the plane. . For weeks the Secret Service were all over here. You can still see the plow marks. Jack Buford. The gist is that the German plane had free passage.” “You bet there is.” Jordan spotted the grassy ridge through the rain. You made a pretty fair impression on someone who happens to be a good friend of mine. . Him and me go back a long way. “How long has this person had . He said you were trustworthy.farmer braked the noisy machine to a standstill opposite a grassy field.” “How do you know they were looking for papers?” “I figured it out once I had a look at them. Certain people I know thought you might be interested. “I know the person who found them. I mean. The man pointed. if you look close.” 273 .” “You saw the papers?” The man nodded. looking. about two miles from the crash site. this briefcase and papers?” “A few months. “Hess’s plane came down there. The papers. You know.” “Tell him thanks for the vote of confidence.” “Everybody here in these parts is saying the same thing.” “Jack Buford told me that too.” “I will.

Trafalgar 3-2-2-6. Daily Telegraph.” said the newspaper operator. “It’s a deal. looking around. please. In the early afternoon.” “Thank you. “Editorial. he walked to a sidewalk phone booth. We don’t like Churchill nor the Duke of Hamilton neither. with a telephone number on a piece of paper.” “What does this person want for them?” “Nothing.” A voice came on the line.” **** London Eiser had a good night’s sleep and a hefty breakfast that morning. You never met us or saw us. lad. It’s up to you to find out if they’re on the up and up. pleased with his luck. “Good morning. May I please speak with Stephen Jordan?” “Hold on. “Here it is. lad. Just leave us out of your investigation. When do I get to see these papers?” The farmer reached under his seat and pulled out a leather briefcase. He dialed and waited. “Good morning.” Jordan stirred in his seat.” “Stephen Jordan?” 274 .“Those papers could have something to do with her. I will connect you to his department.

” “Incidentally. I do. Carry on. wing.” The policeman studied Eiser curiously. if you care to see them. returning the card.” Eiser tipped his cap. Dr. But when he left the booth. “A doctor. and asked for an identity card. bullets punctured his cockpit. “Good day. Suddenly. Won’t be back till Monday morning.” Eiser hung up. With a war on I am a doctor twentyfour hours a day. I’ll call him then. “Official Red Cross work.” The man looked at the made-in-Berlin fake. Eiser remained calm. Over the nose.” **** Camp Z He felt for the parachute under his seat. sir. and the port engine. . . . “There you are. height . . “That won’t be necessary. . the Firth of Clyde glistened in the moonlight. Any message?” “No. sir. Color of eyes . .” “From Liverpool?” “Yes. are you?” “Yes.” “Long way from home. yes. do you always carry your medical bag with you?” “Why. I have the papers. Bates. What might you be doing here?” Eiser put his hand into his medical bag. I’m afraid.“Not here. he was stopped by a military policeman. sir. date of birth . thank you. He gave left rudder. 275 .

He pushed. his right hand on the briefcase. He was terrified. The fighter was hanging on by a prayer. . The Duke of Hamilton’s castle. He struggled. and considered Dungavel Castle. Complete darkness. Six thousand feet. 276 . He banked hard to port and nosed down. He shoved. the other barely running. The briefcase was torn from his hand.The RPM’s and pressures fell off. It stalled. until it stood on its tail. A water landing was impossible at night. Straining was more like it. splitsecond of time. he said to himself. somewhere. . He was now on a mission of peace. Hard. The ground came rising up to meet him. He spread his body out and pulled the chord. He pulled and pulled. and was thrown back. one engine out. This is where I get out. slipping into the parachute . His only way out was back to the mainland. . No kick in the pants. Nothing happened. . He knocked his head. he tried again. The fighter hung motionless for a brief. The fighter climbed and climbed. Dizzy for a moment. The only running engine was vibrating the fighter. He jumped. He reached overhead. He heaved back on the stick to send the nose up. No flutter. sliding back the cabin. He stuck his head too far into the open slipstream. He was free. The turbulent slipstream stole his breath away. He swore. Dungavel Castle is out there . pushing him back again. He threw his gun and stiletto out the hole in the broken window.

Farnborough. Schubert was dreaming again. Farnborough. Maryhill Barracks? No. Yes.Then he woke up in his bed. A bright light overhead. It took him several moments to comprehend where he was. 277 . He rubbed his sweaty face.

where Jordan washed his hands and face. providing the papers were not fakes. near the elevator. It concerned them. With the papers. All it would take was one interview and he’d know. The American Embassy seemed the most obvious. But. It was hard to know who to reach with the papers. while Jordan did his business into the urinal. One look. Jordan could obtain the secrets of the prisoner. he could use it as leverage with the Prime Minister’s office to interview Hess. then joined him at the sinks. then again. contemplating his next move. Jordan thought it odd that the man waited inside. he noticed a tall man leaning against the far wall. One interview. But did they know the information already? It had nothing to do with the British. The man followed him in. or whoever the prisoner was. “Stephen?” 278 . They were the only two inside. really. by the door.CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE London – December 1 Stephen Jordan squirmed at his newsroom desk. in a way. When Jordan left his office and went to the Men’s Room.

. It had been two or three years since the Anglo-German Fellowship meetings. Medical mostly. The voice and the steel-gray eyes were the same.Jordan looked over. . what happened? Where have you been?” “Surgery. His face was entirely different. “No .” Eiser said.” “Good job. A moustache. He had a dark tan. I don’t think so. “Hello again.” “Eiser?” Jordan was stunned.” “How did you know that?” “It doesn’t matter. And the hair – short. A German bomb got me. “But . . Jordan still wasn’t sure. “I need your help. gray on the sides. I dare say. I joined the Army.” Eiser’s tone grew low. Like any newspaperman.” “How?” “I hear you’ve been asking about Hess. . Stephen. The doctors fixed me up after my invalid release.” “Adam Eiser. old man. I had my face burned during the evacuation at Dunkirk. old friend. . 279 . I want to know the same things you do – is he for real or not. I work for the International Red Cross. “Do I know you?” “Don’t you recognize me?” Jordan thought there was something in the man’s deep voice that was vaguely familiar. . But the rest .” “You too? Why?” “I have my own reasons.

It’s a stonewall.” Eiser said.” “You are? Who?” “I don’t know. “But I can’t explain here. anyway. Where is the prisoner now?” “Mytchett Place. Outside. That’s another thing. What’s worse. That’s as close as I got.” “Maybe. Armed to the teeth. they call it. 280 .” Jordan shook his head. Don’t be seen with me in public. I must know everything about this Camp Z and what kind of official identification I need to pass the gate and the checkpoints. Two heads are better than one. “I can’t find anything out. we can work together. Perhaps. Jordan phoned the Army to confirm Adam Eiser’s status with that part of the service.” Eiser smiled. “Thanks for telling me. for God’s sake. They’ll tail you too. Interviews have been refused. There was no record of any Eiser with any branch of the Army in 1939. I’ve been there. 1940 or 1941. you came to the right person. I saw the prisoner from a few hundred feet away. I suppose you have a plan?” “I do. The Prime Minister ignores my questions regarding the prisoner. Camp Z.” Jordan said. I know.we want the truth. All the time.” **** In the afternoon. I’m being tailed. “Where is that?” “Some old country mansion near Farnborough. We have to talk.

and drove to Eiser’s hotel. taking countless turns. containing a sheet of paper. mid-autumn day. Eiser opened. Now what? Try another day. The traffic had been too congested for blocks. He knocked at room 310. with the hope of losing the shadow.” “Come in. Signed by Sir Alexander Cadogan with his office stamp. looking up and down the hall. His shadow was out there and would see everything.This didn’t sit well with the newspaperman. 281 .” Jordan slipped Eiser a letter-sized envelope. What was Eiser up to? It would make for a smashing story. for fear of his home and office lines being tapped. with Jordan emphasizing the secrets on how to get through the gate. “I lost him. Blasted! He couldn’t go in. Should MI-5 or MI-6 – whoever was following him – be notified? What did Eiser want? Did he really have orders from the International Red Cross? Jordan left the Daily Telegraph newsroom and drove his auto across the city under the fading light of a crisp. At night? He didn’t wish to phone. “Here’s your permission from the British Foreign Office to speak with Hess. He passed the American Embassy.” Eiser shut the door and the two went into the plan over a bottle of brandy. he was sure that he had. briefcase in hand. “Did anyone follow you?” Eiser asked. He had to keep his wits about him. “Official office stationary. By nightfall. Jordan kept the papers stuffed inside his shirt.

Typed. Outside. especially now. tell me more about this Mytchett Place. Now there’re one hundred and thirty troops guarding him night and day. He broke his thigh and had it in a cast until September. The British record 282 . but stays inside most of the time. A damn good one. So. Just hope they don’t call the Foreign Office for verification. he probably can’t move too fast. “An anonymous friend. Watch what you say. A guard in Camp Z. The prisoner goes for walks in the gardens. “The armed guards are everywhere. Then you are in.” “Now. The prisoner’s quarters have been replaced with armored glass. who wants to stay anonymous. The walls have ears. Too ruddy cold. then again on the first floor.” “Without that sheet they’ll turn you back.” “Of course. Inside. They will ask for your ID at the gate.” Eiser put the envelope in his shirt pocket.” “Where did you get it?” Jordan thought of the phone call and one of the letters in his mailbox.” “Excellent. “Is the signature authentic?” “A forgery. in the bushes and trees. he tried some stupid suicide attempt back in June when he leaped over a rail and fell down one floor. of course. “Anything else?” “Yes.” Eiser opened it.All you have to do is fill in your name. I figure it’s someone close to the situation. Another thing.” Jordan sighed. where his bedroom and study is.

I work alone. Stephen. One of Eiser’s associates was Stephen Jordan.” **** Hollinger and the Blue Force team led by Max Preston entered the front lobby of the rundown four-story hotel and moved into position. No one is to know I’m in England. You know where to find me. as they had suspected. “Going so soon. Preston on the second. They each took a floor.every word. Hollinger on the third. But there wasn’t anything else to go on.” “But I thought we were working together. Well.” **** 283 . I’d like to know what you find out about the prisoner. If Eiser had taken a train all the way to London. **** Jordan stood up. who Hollinger had already been shadowing. Stephen?” “I’m a married man. My wife is expecting me. They will send the guards bursting in there in seconds if they feel something isn’t quite right.” “Yes. I answer to a higher authority.” “I can’t do that. It was a long shot. I don’t think I’ll be needing you after this. then he could possibly contact one or two or more of his AngloGerman Fellowship friends. Preston carefully considered what Hollinger had told him the day before. You see.

“Jordan!” he heard from the door. The paragraph in the middle of the first page jolted him. His broken glasses a yard away. He ran to it and looked down the fire escape. the second page. “Jordan? Is that you? Are you in there? Jordan! Open up!” **** Eiser’s eyes went to the alley. and flipped the body over. face down on the floor in a small pool of blood. He gathered up his hat. His hand grazed something. A loan for twenty million dollars! 284 . . He withdrew his gun from his holster. . pounding on the door. He turned to Stephen Jordan. He scanned the first page . **** Hollinger crashed the door down and punched on the light. crackling underneath Jordan’s shirt. He crossed the room. Eiser slid the blackout curtains and window up. coat and carrying bag. He ran up. He undid three buttons and saw a large manila envelope. a man’s low scream and what sounded like a struggle. They were waiting for him. and darted for the window. flicked the lights out. He pulled it out and took out the contents. The briefcase beside him was empty. then a loud bang on the wall. Then silence. The window was wide open.Hollinger heard the fight from the hall. It was a trap. barely making a sound. Hollinger bent down. Again. His only way out.

For the first time. Said he gave his name as Barrow.” Preston said. Hollinger glanced up to the third-floor fire escape. we have a pretty fair description of him. “Precisely. “I must have just missed him. twirling his fedora. Brush cut. Thin moustache. Light-colored eyes.” “He traveled light. You get one guess who’s been here. Rather handsome.” said Hollinger. I checked around the alley.” “He sure picked a dump to stay in. reading from a note pad over a small flashlight. He folded the envelope into fours and squeezed it into his inside coat pocket.” “But we were late again. “And a slit throat. Same kind of mark. and looked down at Jordan. “Nothing left in the room. Gray or blue-gray. “Six-foot-two. And a tanned face.” “So he’s seen some sun since the surgery.” Hollinger rose to his feet.” 285 . I had it pegged right.” Preston said. Gray over the ears and above the neck. He couldn’t remember. Didn’t find anything. Liverpool accent. Neatly trimmed.” “The front desk said he remembered the man.“Son of a bitch!” he said aloud. Max Preston ran in.” Preston and Hollinger conferred in the dark alley after questioning the desk clerk. Short hair. Could this be what Jordan drove past the American Embassy with? Footsteps in the hall startled Hollinger. “Acid burns!” “Yep. he thought.

Point of origin – a German by the last name of Bremmel. and plunged his sixfoot frame into the chair. Rolling up his sleeves. he didn’t feel the least bit remorseful about taking the papers from Jordan’s body. Between them and us.“What do you think happened?” “Eiser could have squeezed some information from Jordan. and poured a drink. He’ll undoubtedly notify MI-5. we’ll turn London upside-down.” “Like he did with Denise. 1941. and jacket on the sofa. The typed sheets appeared official enough. I’ll ring Lampert and give him the update. 286 . He took a sip of wine. he cracked his knuckles. Destination – Deputy Augsburg 3526/52. Given the conditions. coat. Hess’s identification! Hollinger knew that much from the beginning of the year. “I wonder. but his mind was functioning clearly. “What the bloody-hell does Eiser want in England?” **** Hollinger returned to his flat after ten that evening. and reached behind him to the cabinet to fetch a bottle of wine and a clean glass. He sat up. An Enigma II transmission. He flung his hat. He was tired. He loosened his tie.” He paused. then eliminated him so he couldn’t identify him. Who’s next?” Hollinger asked. He opened to page two of the papers he had found on Jordan. dated May 9. The Falcon File.

an agenda of defection and forewarning. the jet aircraft. His home – America. Hollinger closed his eyes. that was possible. yeah. Hell. Think. Why not? Had Hess brought these with him on his peace mission? Yeah. Hell.S. had been receiving loans from several American banks to the tune of millions of dollars in order to finance their war factories. His blood was up. or were they found near the crash site? Someone in Great Britain had been holding the information. May 10. how did Jordan come by them? He had made two trips to Scotland. Incredible. 287 . Each German factory. When the loans were signed. Nazi war factories! Hollinger read on. Filberg. all laid out in detail.The pages were based on information that Bremmel had received in confidence from the firm that had employed him. Now. The significance of the information was brought home to him. So why not a possible NaziAmerican alliance? Hess too had a plan when he left Augsburg that day. it seemed. The transmission had been sent to Hess. I. Each bank. Any idiot could figure it out. Found near the crash site. Hollinger took a bigger sip of wine. Wesley. One of those not far from Glasgow. Here it was. Had someone been feeding him these documents. Were the papers planted by someone? By Eiser? What would be the purpose? Why would Eiser or one of his superiors plant such information on an Englishman’s body? What else did Eiser or anybody have to gain? If the papers were legit. there was a possibility. Filberg. the atomic weapons. He had warned the British of the death camps.

288 . His stomach was in knots. He was suddenly – unexpectedly – mentally and physically exhausted. considering the possibilities. like it or not. .Now Washington was brought into this. Of course. Desperately. he dredged his own subconscious for answers. He consumed a second . The Falcon File would provide the answer. Hollinger put his head in his hands. piecing it all together. May 9. . And he didn’t stop there. Had Hess received the information the day before he had left Augsburg? Amazing. The Falcon File. Then it came to him. Hollinger picked the papers up and pressed them in his hand. This had to be a bad dream. and a third glass. Then he had his answer. But how would he get into it? He swallowed the wine in his glass and filled it again.

and cleaned the mess in the sink. fresh turtleneck sweater. and swallowed a Benzedrine. and left the house as quietly as he could. He washed up. and blazer. the way most people did. The sun would rise soon and he had to be out of the guesthouse before the others woke. Jason Bates on the government document given to him by Jordan. 289 . He closed the door to the lavatory and stripped to his undershorts and socks.CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO London – December 2 Eiser had slept badly. He did a good job too. He let the dye set. to find if he’d have an allergic reaction to the chemicals. He washed his hair to remove the coloring from the scalp. Eiser slipped the plastic gloves on over the cracked sink. took the bottle in his right hand. carefully shaved his moustache off. and poured the black dye into his hair. It was evenly centered. Then he threw on his trousers. He knew he had no time to try a patch test. massaging it in with his hands as he went. He had to work quickly. It was a good thing he had used the landlady’s typewriter the evening before to tap Dr.

He sat on a nearby bench and browsed through the city’s tabloid. politely. “Yes. sir. . ma’am. “How’s the leg?” 290 . smiling. We’ve booked a New York bound Clipper flight for you this afternoon. A plane in London will fly you there. Hollinger got up and removed his hat. But she was moving around. she appeared down the hall. a small piece of luggage in her hand. Mr.” “Hi there yourself.” “Thank you. In the waiting area was a man in a leg cast. “Miss Harris will be out straightaway.” Hollinger answered the ward nurse politely. Another man was steadying himself on crutches. actually. She walked towards him. out of Whitchurch.” “What are you doing here?” “I’ve come to escort you to the London airport.” She leaned closer and dropped her voice. Probably her only one in London right now. .**** Hollinger checked in at the second floor of Guys Hospital. I’m afraid so.” He eyed his watch. Hollinger.” “You seem .” Hollinger said. “Is that the other part of the deal?” He took her away a few feet. Miss Harris. chipper. Her leg still seemed to be giving her some pain. Ten minutes later. do I?” He shook his head. “Hi there. “In a few minutes. the London Times. ma’am.” “I don’t have any choice in the matter. ma’am. “Are you a relative?” “A friend.

“What do you think?” Hollinger looked at the new dress the MI-6 had purchased for her. tossing her hair with her hand. reached for her new suitcase.” “Not a pleasing picture.” she uttered.” “This is probably the worst area. “I didn’t realize it was like this. Twenty thousand Londoners have died so far. In less than a week. it’s not. and took her down the elevator. The MG was not new by any means. A light green. **** The drive through the London war zone in the drafty top-up MG convertible obviously depressed her.” She did a quick twirl. “See?” “Great. it looked great on her.” This was the writer’s first ride in a cramped English sports car. The arm’s fine.” He smiled. across the city. the craters. 291 . the cracked pavement. Structures not damaged by German bombs were reinforced by sandbags.” he said. she seemed to have recovered miraculously from her injuries. It had a powerful well-tuned motor. Too pretty. but functional.“Sore. Lead the way. the bombed-out buildings. She had makeup on. boldly.” She raised her hand. But I can walk on it. Come on. “Don’t you look smashing. A Betty Grable type. is it?” “No. Gosh! She was really quite pretty. “Charmer. “Geez.

“Thank you.” He let off the pedal.” “Well. Sort of. will you. we will. “OK.” “I’m sorry things couldn’t have worked out better for you. Either here in Europe or the Pacific. and retrieved her luggage from the back.” Hollinger shook hands with her. making several pedestrians gawk. 292 . “Slow down. I want to live.Hollinger drove it fast. Some day. The new clothes and everything. “You’re welcome. I have to get back. “I’m in a bit of a hurry.” “I am. “Yeah.” They reached the airport and Hollinger braked in front of the twin-engined Avro Anson on the tarmac.” “Sorry. “I’m alive.” She shrugged. weaving in and out of traffic. The pilot was waiting outside the machine.” “Do you think we’ll get into this war?” she asked him bluntly. Long.” she said.” she answered. What are you going to do when you return to the States?” “Ask for another assignment. naturally. He squealed the tires around one corner. Hollinger opened the car door for Harris.” “You seem confident of that. aren’t I? Thanks for your help.

“Yeah. and evaluate his medical condition. He had taken his time driving. “Yes.” “Yes.” She looked at him strangely. The toughest. She doubted that she would ever lay eyes on him again. I’ve come on behalf of the International Red Cross.“Good luck. **** Camp Z Adam Eiser double-checked his image in the rear-view mirror before he steered the stolen Morris to the gate at Mytchett Place.” she said. please. Bates. sir. Maybe we’ll see each other again some time. It was the first of two checkpoints at Mytchett.” 293 . trying not to be noticed. An armed guard stopped him. He could feel his second Benzedrine kicking in with a punch. sir. holding his palm up.” “Papers.” “The nature of your business?” “To see the prisoner. What might I do for you?” “My name is Dr. He had to take the back roads. A private auto was a rare sight in the wartime British countryside. Jordan had told him. his breath steaming in the cool air. maybe. he was on his way. The guard leaned over. And he had to conserve the siphoned fuel in the tank. He rolled the window down. Once past here.

and birth certificate. and the Red Cross paper. “Very well. Jason Bates?” “Yes. matching blue shirt. “What concern of that is yours? I’m not at your beck and call. white blouse. He was her boss.” The guard pursed his lips. “Dr. You may proceed. and pushed a note at her. 294 . ID card. Park on the left. “Thank you. The guard closely examined the forged signature of Sir Alexander Cadogan on the latter sheet. smoking a cigarette. She was there for him. “Do you have any identification?” “Yes. the stamp.” Then she thought twice on what she had said.” **** MI-6 Headquarters Hollinger found Langford standing by the window.Eiser dug into his medical bag for the credentials – the Red Cross and British Foreign Office verification.” He closed the door behind him. “I had the morning off. “And where were you?” She turned around and blinked once.” Eiser showed him the three Berlin phonies – driver’s licence. and the War Office pass. Eiser heaved a sigh deep inside. She was wearing an attractive outfit – blue jacket. The guard scanned them for several seconds.” The guard returned everything.

” “OK. “No.” He handed her the contents of a manila envelope. . Her trained eye scanned the material in a flash. “Where did you get it?” “A long story. We’re safe. No time to go into it.” “Oh.She read: Is the room bugged? “Well?” She shook her head. I remember. my. Here. . . I was in London. .” She seemed to foresee what was coming. . It would have come through Bletchley. “American bank loans to . Get a load of this. “I have something to show you.” “Yes.” “Wunderbar. in Berlin . See the date?” “Yes. . then we did have prior knowledge. indeed. You have that look in your eye.” “I was off that day in May. . then Hess might have been trying to warn us of an agreement between American bankers and German war factories. May 9. the Germans?” She looked up. Falcon File transmission from the Bremmel . but is it genuine? It could be a fake.” “There’s one way of checking this out to see if it’s on the level.” 295 . her voice cracking. Hess. If that’s the case.” She took papers from Hollinger’s outstretched hand. If we received it at Bletchley. Tell me what you make of it. I’ve seen it before. to Deputy Augsburg . . “I know. “Yes. Hess!” He nodded.” “You’d know the answer to that one.” “I need your help.

I’d be thrown out of the Secret Service for good.” “Why?” “To use it against somebody – us – at the opportune time. that’s all.” 296 .Langford stood up and came around the front of her desk. “I take it this was part of the package he brought with him on his peace mission?” “If this information is in the file room.” “Only if there’s another copy in the file room. and are keeping it under wraps. You’d be sent back to Washington. I don’t. Got a key?” “I have a number of keys for the different rooms. I don’t know if I have one for that one. You have access to the room.” “Yes. we’re—” “Up the creek without a paddle. as usual.” She shook her head. And there might not be anything there. But we have to find out.” “We just won’t get caught. “We’d need permission from Lampert. Blacklisted forever. “Except.” “Some of the locks could be the same.” she argued. “I don’t like this. And chances are Churchill and Lampert know about it. but. Her shoes were off.” “Now all we have to do is confirm this.” “Worse. the Hess intercepts are under the Confidential section.” Hollinger put the papers into the envelope. Let’s try. then it was part of Hess’s package. If unauthorized people were caught in there. someone could have destroyed them.

“I don’t know about this. I got roasted over letting you in a restricted area the last time.” “Robbie, I have no intention of sitting on my butt, doing nothing. I have to know.” He smiled. “Besides, the end of the year that you promised me is almost up.” “But why do I have to be involved?” “You’re in too far not to be.” She smiled, pausing. “I don’t know why I get into these predicaments with you. Oh, very well.” “Atta girl. No time like the present.” He looked down at her. “Get your shoes on. Your Honor left for lunch.”

The third floor contained rows upon rows of metal cabinets, all files for the Secret Service Headquarters. The tiled floor appeared to have been freshly waxed. Several people were scattered about when Hollinger and Langford arrived. “There,” Langford pointed. The Confidential section was a walled room off to the right. The door was closed. No light underneath. “What’re you waiting for?” Hollinger said. “Easy, boy. Pretend we’re looking through some drawers near the door.” He grinned. “Yours or mine?” She stared at him. “Don’t get smart.” “Let’s go.” They walked across the floor and stopped beside the cabinets in front of the Confidential section. They looked around. They were in the clear. She squatted

down and tried the lock, while Hollinger played the lookout. The first key didn’t work. Neither did the second. She tried the third. The fourth. “Doesn’t this remind you of stealing biscuits from your mother’s biscuit jar?” Hollinger smirked. “No. More like whiskey from my father’s liquor cabinet.” “Whatever. Hush! Somebody’s coming!” Langford knelt down by the nearest file cabinet and pulled out the drawer. Hollinger looked with her, the two of them trying to appear as if they had the right to be there. A man walked by, looked at them, then left through the entrance. “Hurry,” Hollinger urged, “before someone else comes along.” Langford crawled over to the door and tried more keys, frantically, one by one. The eighth one clicked, and the lock gave way. She waved him over. Hollinger crawled across the floor and went in behind her. Inside, he closed the door, and they stood up. It was pitch dark. “Don’t try anything now,” Hollinger said in a hushed tone. “Don’t you wish!” she whispered. Hollinger dug for the two small flashlights in his suit pocket. He flicked them on and gave Langford one. They dusted themselves off. “OK, where to?” he said, moving his light around the room. Four rows of cabinets were directly in front of him.

“All Falcon File intercepts are filed by date. I’ll start to the left. You take the right.” Quietly, they both opened a drawer about the same time, and checked the dates on the tabs. “I think it’s on your side,” she said. He opened a drawer nearest the floor. “You’re right. January ’41. February. Here. Bull’s-eye. May.” He pulled out the appropriate month and went to stand up. A crash of metal made Langford jump. “What’s the matter?” “I banged my head on the top drawer.” “Oh, good heavens.” She laughed. “Why didn’t you close it first?” “It’s not funny.” “Keep it down! And don’t swear.” “Shit! Did that hurt.” “Don’t get mad and bang it shut.” They looked in the file. May the fourth. The seventh. The ninth . . . Hollinger slid the papers out. Langford’s pulse quickened as she read. It was staring her in the face. “There it is. Word for word.” “Yep. Was I right or what?” he winced, holding his head. “I suppose I owe you an apology.” “I’ll take a band-aid right now. I think my head’s bleeding. I might even need stitches.” “What are you going to do?” “About my head? Probably see a doctor.” “No, the file, stupid!”


“Possession is nine-tenths of the law. Notify my boss in Washington. What else? In person.” “Under the circumstances,” she said, “I don’t blame you. But what can you do? What can anybody do?” “I dunno. But, you know, deep down inside, I don’t blame the Big Guy for trying to draw us into this thing. This could be one way of doing it. I’d do it myself if I were in his shoes.” “You would?” He nodded. “Yep. Chalk it up to, let’s say, justifiable fabrication on his part.” “Why such a fuss then all this time?” He shrugged. “I dunno. I guess I wanted you to admit that I was right. Good thing, too, because I only had another month to go.” “You sure went to great lengths to achieve your goals.” “That I did.” “May I ask a question?” “Certainly,” he said. “How are you going to up and get away to Washington? Lampert will need a reason.” He shrugged again. “Easy. I’ll cable Donovan. We have an understanding. He can return a cable ordering me back. Pronto.” Langford looked into his face. “Sorry about your head. I’ll make it better.” She set her flashlight on the cabinet, pointing it towards the wall. He smiled. “You will? How?”


This time, she made the advance, slowly, pausing at first, before going through with it. She reached out and ran her fingers through his wavy hair. He slid his arm around her waist and pulled her towards him. Then their lips met and they kissed, arms wrapped tightly to the other, bodies pressed together, all the time Hollinger holding onto his flashlight. The whole procedure seemed so much easier this time. Their lips released after some seconds. “How about that?” she asked, tucking her face into his shoulder as they held on. “I’m hooked on you, you know.” He was too shocked to answer. “Never expected it? Cat got your tongue, Wesley?” “I have to make an official protest. This is not standard operating procedure,” he said. “No, it isn’t. “Besides, I don’t like fast women.” “Liar.” “Gosh, you’re beautiful. Good kisser too.” “Thank you. Do I really kiss better than Annie Fannie?” “Yes. A lot better. Wait.” “It was just getting good,” she said, recalling Hollinger’s words to her at her flat. “Quiet. I’m thinking.” “You’re thinking pretty loud.” “Hush,” Hollinger said. “I don’t like it when you think so hard.”


For some reason, he thought of Eiser. Out of the blue, he remembered something Lampert had told him. Why hadn’t he thought of it before? “Say, wait a second.” He released her. “What?” “I need to pay someone a call.” “Who?” “Can’t tell you. Let’s put these things back. By the way, does this mean you’re available now?”


MI-6 Headquarters
Hollinger flew past Lampert’s secretary. She stood up and barked, “Mr. Hollinger, you can’t go in there!” He stopped. “Why not?” “The colonel’s on the telephone.” “Who with?” “The Prime Minister.” “Too bad.” “Mr. Hollinger! He’s not to be disturbed!” Hollinger opened the door, and pushed it wide open. “Colonel, I must speak to you. Immediately.” Lampert bounced from his chair. “Confound you, man! What are you doing barging in here? Sit down. Wait till I’m finished.” “I’m very sorry, sir,” the secretary apologized. “He walked right in.” “That’s quite all right, Margaret. Carry on.” “Very good, colonel.” She glowered at the grinning Hollinger and closed the door, making a grouchy sound at the same time.

Lampert turned his attention to the voice in the receiver. “Yes, sir, it’s Wesley. No, sir. I can assure you that he’s not been drinking on the job. You’re not drunk, are you, Wesley?”

Camp Z
Eiser gave his papers to Henry, who opened the cage door carefully and studied the documentation. Vern leaned on the staircase rail at the end of the hall and looked over. “The prisoner has his own physician. Dr. B-Bates,” Henry said. “But as the papers state, I represent the Red Cross. I was sent to see that the international rules of treatment of POW’s has been properly observed for the prisoner, and to examine him.” “This is highly irregular, Dr. B-Bates. I-I was not given any prior notice of th-this.” “That’s standard practice, my good man, for the International Red Cross. They like to observe such things under normal circumstances.” “Catch us doing s-s-something, you mean?” Eiser smiled. “No, no. Nothing like that, I can assure you.” He shook his head. “I came down all the way from Liverpool. This will cause quite an incident if I have to go all the way back without accomplishing my duty to the Red Cross. And I do have permission from the


Foreign Office. Everything is in order.” For a moment, Eiser thought the guard was going to refuse him entry. “Stay here, Dr. B-Bates. The prisoner’s t-taking a midmorning nap. He didn’t sleep well last n-night.”

MI-6 Headquarters
Lampert replaced the receiver and glared at Hollinger. “Don’t you ever do that again. That was the Prime Minister. Who do you think you are? Coming in here like—” “Steady, colonel. You already have high blood pressure.” “I wonder why. To what do I owe the pleasure of this unannounced visit?” Hollinger stepped forward and leaned over Lampert’s desk. “Listen to me. I think I know the object of Eiser’s mission to England.” “You do? What?” “Eiser and Jordan were both with the Anglo-German Association, right?” The colonel nodded. “Yes, they were.” “They both know Hess. Or knew Hess. Right?” Lampert nodded the second time. “Yes, go on.” “Would they recognize the real Hess on sight?” “Probably. Yes, I guess so. What are you driving at?” “Put this all together. I followed Jordan to the area that Schubert’s ME-110 went down. Jordan asked the Duke questions about Hess and he was poking around

the Firth of Forth. Then, after that, Eiser kills Jordan – so he wouldn’t be identified, I guess. Now, remember the file you showed me on Eiser? What were his specialties?” “Spying, muscle, assassination, sabotage, espionage, counterespionage.” Hollinger pointed his finger at Lampert. “Assassination?” An expression of horror shaped the colonel’s face. “Schubert?” “You got it.” “He wouldn’t, would he?” “Think about it. At first, I thought Eiser was going to spring Schubert.” “Excuse me?” “You know, rescue him. Anyway, tell me if I’m wrong.” “Extraordinary. Assassination. Why? Unless the Germans know we have the phoney.” Lampert folded his arms. “You might just have something there. Why hadn’t we thought of it before?” “My thoughts exactly.” “If you’re right and he gets to the prisoner, we’ve had it. Churchill will have our heads. If you know what I mean? We have to get to that bugger Eiser before somebody like MI-5 does. If they start asking questions, there’s no telling what might come of it. It could blow this whole Hess thing right out in the open.” Hollinger agreed. “You don’t have to elaborate, sir.”


“Do you suppose Eiser knows the prisoner’s at Mytchett Place?” “I’d say a yes to that. Jordan probably knew and would have told him.” “Yes, of course.” Lampert reached for his telephone. “I’ll get Preston to surround the estate.” He started dialing, his earlier anger at the American forgotten. “Good idea. Tell me, colonel, what’s with Preston, anyway?” “Meaning?” “He sure seems to have an axe to grind with Eiser.” “Oh, that. Don’t you know?” “Know what?” “Eiser almost killed him once.” “He did? No kidding.” “Just a moment.” The colonel turned his concentration to the receiver. “Preston,” he spoke into the receiver. “Listen to me! Make haste! Get some of your men over to Camp Z. Immediately.”

Camp Z
Eiser had to wait; the two sentries looking over at him occasionally. Suddenly, the prisoner walked out from his bedroom into the caged area. He looked down the hall to the next room – the study – ignoring Eiser’s presence. Vern watched, then nodded at Eiser to proceed.


Seated in the hall, Eiser got a good look at the prisoner through the wire mesh. Henry swung open the metal door. “Y-You may go in n-now, Dr. Bates.” Eiser got to his feet. “Thank you.” He went into the study and slowly closed the door. The prisoner turned around. They exchanged stares. “Who are you? What do you want?” Conscious of buried microphones, Eiser knew he had to work quickly and efficiently, at close range. “I was going to ask you the same question.” “I am the Deputy Fuehrer of Nazi Germany. I am Rudolf Hess.” Suddenly, the air-raid siren blared. The prisoner froze, looking up. Eiser stared at the man. This wasn’t the Hess that Eiser remembered. Too tall, too skinny, and his eyes were distant . . . and different. Never mind the moles Buhle had talked about. Eiser wouldn’t have to check. “Like hell you are. You’re not Rudolf Hess. Greetings from Berlin, and your friend, Walter Buhle.” Eiser detected the spark in the prisoner’s eyes with the mention of Buhle. Eiser threw the prisoner to the floor, then gripped the needle in his medical bag. With the other hand, he muffled the prisoner’s mouth. One injection, and he’d be dead in seconds. They struggled. Schubert grabbed the needle from Eiser’s grasp, and threw it across the floor; it ended up under a couch. Eiser reached inside his coat for the knife, and lunged at


the prisoner. With one swipe of the pen-like instrument, he gashed his arm. Then the door burst open. Henry appeared, his machine gun pointed at Eiser. Eiser kicked it away. In a swift move, he reached for one of the acid capsules and threw the contents at the guard. Henry screamed in agony. Eiser scooped up the gun and fled for the entrance before the other first-floor guard could react. “Stop! Or I’ll shoot!” Eiser spun around at the door and shot several rounds at the hall guard, missing him. Then he flew down the wooden stairs, to the bottom . . . and the entrance. “Eiser!” Eiser looked up. By the time he realized he was surrounded by armed men, he was smashed square in the face by Preston. He dropped on the spot. Preston stood over the downed Eiser. He was out cold, blood dribbling from his mouth to the floor. Preston smiled. He had waited a long time for this.

London – December 3
Hollinger handed Lampert the trans-Atlantic cable. Lampert smiled, slowly, smoking his pipe. “So, Donovan asks for your presence in Washington immediately?” “Yes, sir.” “What’s it about?”

“Search me. You know how these things are.” Langford arrived at Lampert’s office and looked over at Hollinger, who glanced back. “Have a nice trip. Before you go, I want you to see our little message to Himmler.” Lampert nodded at Langford. “Miss Langford.” Hollinger took and read the typed sheet she handed him, and laughed. “Who’s idea was this?” “The Big Guy’s,” answered Lampert. “Is this what you call isolating Himmler?” “You might say that, yes. Operation Decoy worked in one respect. Maybe we didn’t upset the Nazi higher-ups like we wanted, but we did flush out Eiser.” “It’s . . . appropriate.” Hollinger looked at the sheet again. “Looks like something I would’ve thought of.” “With the agent Denise – God rest her soul – dead, we can get away with it. It’ll be transmitted this evening during her time slot.” “By the way, colonel, how’s Prisoner Z?” “Splendid,” Lampert replied. “His wound is healing nicely. At least there was no acid involved.” “Yeah. Lucky him.” “Commencing tomorrow, the entire staff at Camp Z will be replaced with new men.” “Isn’t that kind of...” “Kind of what?” Lampert asked. “Drastic?” “Not according to the Prime Minister. It’s his call. Eiser never should have penetrated even the first checkpoint. Doctor, my eye. When the prisoner has his

own doctor. Most of the time Dr. Dicks lives right there. He just so happened to be out that day. Perhaps the next crew will be a whole lot more careful.” “Yes, they will.” “By the way, Miss Langford,” Lampert asked. “Is that gum you’re chewing?” Langford blushed. “Ah . . . well...” “Not you, too.” Hollinger grinned over at Langford. “You’ve been holding out on me.” “Yes, I have.” “I didn’t think you had any left.” “I saved the last pack. Kind of stale, though. Ta, ta, gentlemen,” she said, taking the gum from her mouth and gently dropping it in the trash can as she left the office. After leaving Lampert’s office, Hollinger caught up with Langford and coaxed her into a small vacant room down the corridor. “Thanks a million, Robbie.” She blinked at him with sharp eyes. “What for?” “Believing in me.” She smiled. “Oh, ’twas nothing.” “While we’re here, I want to ask you one thing.” “Yes?” “Will you marry me?” Langford’s face flushed. She couldn’t believe her ears. Surely he was teasing. A marriage proposal from the American with the so-called reputation? She had to think about it. Quickly, it seemed. What she had seen of

Hollinger this year really didn’t compare with the MI-6 file on him. She knew the genuine Wesley Hollinger, and she liked what she saw. “Well?” “Is this one of your hypothetical situations?” “No.” “Do I have to decide on the spot?” “Yes. I have to know before I leave.” Roberta Hollinger, she thought. It had a ring to it. Or Roberta Langford-Hollinger, one of those charming, sophisticated working-woman names. Yes, that’s what it would be. Roberta Langford-Hollinger. Would her parents approve of the cocky Yank they had never met, but only heard second-hand stories about? It didn’t matter. It was up to her. She was a big girl. Decisions were made overnight in this war. Whirlwind romances ended up at the altar quicker than a snap of the fingers. Nothing was carved in stone anymore. Hitler’s stranglehold on Europe had changed everything. Live for today, not knowing what tomorrow might bring. This was 1941. Not 1901. He kissed her, holding her tight. “Yes, I will,” she replied, startled that she actually said it. “I’ll be back in a week, maybe. Don’t go anywhere. And don’t change your mind.” “I won’t. Unless, of course, I meet someone else.” She grinned, her lip curling up. “Just kidding.” “I should hope so.” He kissed her, lightly this time. “I love you.”

“Likewise.” He winked, and left the room. She stood there, traumatized. Marriage? To Wesley Hollinger? Did she really say yes? Who would have thought it? She did . . . she did say yes. Good grief. Then again, she always said she loved men with blue eyes. “Wait. Where do you think you’re going?” She chased him down the hall, cornered him in a closed doorway, and kissed him hard on the mouth. “Came to wish me luck, did you?” His eyes were soft and caring. “Yes. Break a leg.” She walked away, turned, and blew him a kiss down the hall. “Bring me back some more gum.”

Radio operator Gunther Gruhn removed his headphones and deciphered the Morse message that came through on Denise’s frequency at the top of the hour. Trouble was, it wasn’t her hand. It was definitely someone else’s. Gruhn took the message down anyway.

Outside London
The two-car motorcade braked on a crest next to some oak trees. The nearest buildings – a farm – were more than a mile downhill. The men in the second car

The signal. First. “Should I?” answered Adam Eiser. about . “You refuse to cooperate – we kill you. Me.” “I was one of the three agents who came to arrest you. You stabbed one. “I’ve been informed by MI-6 to give you your options. putting him in the hospital for weeks. Frankly. And you threw acid on another. He had survived a vicious interrogation in which he hadn’t cracked. you’re considered too dangerous. “Does London . 1939 ring a bell?” “Not especially. The bound man was pushed to his knees in the soft earth. “Now do you remember?” “So?” Eiser was unmoved.” “I’m not terribly fond of that one. forming a circle of men and steamy breath. August. “Remember me?” Preston asked. old boy.” 314 . . staring coldly at the German spy. and dragged him into a nearby meadow. extracting his gun from his holster. glancing up. He looked up at Preston. Preston nodded.” Preston pointed to his chest. No trial. his face bruised. The others stood around.yanked out a man whose hands were bound. What’s the second option?” Preston checked the gun chamber of his pistol. you can work for us and feed information back to Germany – information that we tell you to send. . The two men in the first car – one of them Max Preston – followed seconds behind. . . Preston cleared his throat.

For over a year now.” “I regret nothing. Eiser let out a wretched. “Deutschland.” Preston smiled. He examined Eiser’s face for a hint of repentance. pathetic waste. “Where did you go wrong? An Englishman?” Eiser showed no concern. How touching. wiping his cheek with a handkerchief. “It’s not nice to call me a dirty pig. Do what you have to do.” “We caught you.” Preston rammed the muzzle at the back of Eiser’s neck and fired once. if you must. can’t do. before your own mid-range commanders do. There wasn’t any.” “I will. For you. . my Deutschland.” “Sorry. “I’ll let you in on a little secret. navy. controlling his anger. Such a . .’’ “Sieg Heil!” “Poor man.” “Amateurs. didn’t we?” “Mere luck. the war is over. We know what your army. Herr Eiser. “Schweinehund!” “I know my German. Amateurs? I think not. and air force are going to do in advance.” Preston sighed. low groan as he fell sideways.” Preston replied. 315 .” He spit in the Englishman’s face. our Intelligence has been intercepting all of Germany’s military signals.” “Too bad. Eiser.“I’ll take neither.

The Gestapo leader cut at it with his gold-plated letter opener. He wasn’t going to mark this in his date book.” “Bring it in at once. It’s for you. watching the blood flow onto the ground.” Preston said. TO HEINRICH HIMMLER WE HAVE YOUR MAN TOMMIE PLEASE BE SO KIND AS TO SHOVE IT UP YOUR ASS YOUR FRIENDS THE ENGLISH Himmler didn’t appreciate the vulgar side of British humor. He didn’t enjoy killing people. “Yes?” “Herr Reichsfuehrer. a courier arrived with a decoded message from Hamburg. and departed.” “Yawohl. Eiser.“Bon voyage. He crumpled the paper into a ball and threw it across the room. **** Gestapo Headquarters Heinrich Himmler answered his intercom. **** 316 . left the sealed envelope on his desk. For now. Eiser was the exception. Herr Reichsfuehrer. upon his return. So much for keeping an eye on the poodlekiller.” The adjutant entered Himmler’s office. However. He adjusted his pince-nez. So much for becoming the Fuehrermaster.

317 . in Hawaii. The Japanese Task Force had been on the open sea for a week. Navy ships. December 8. Tokyo time. still undetected.S. when the coded message came over the wireless.Pacific Ocean They crossed the international dateline. and the Army and Navy airfields as planned. CLIMB MOUNT NIITAKA It was confirmed. There was no turning back now. December 7. at dawn. Vice Admiral Chuichi Nagumo was to proceed southeast and attack the U.

At two in the morning. thick gloves. Scheduled North Atlantic winter crossings were always terrifying at best with the Ferry Command aircraft overloaded with men and gasoline. He was weighed down like the others with a winter-issue parka. Hollinger waddled aboard the idling black British Overseas Airways B-24 Liberator with the dozen or so adventurers – pilots and airmen – for the return trip to RAF Ferry Command Headquarters in Montreal. The air was usually piercing cold. It would be no milk run. with icy conditions. The accommodations were cramped. with snowflakes in the air that melted once they touched ground. a parachute and life vest. But it was still the quickest route to Washington. gusting to one hundred miles per hour. knowing damn well that he wouldn’t stand a fiddler’s chance if the aircraft had the misfortune of going down over the 318 . The buffeting westerly headwinds were often raw.CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR Prestwick. a fleeced flying suit. Scotland – December 5 Landlubber Wesley Hollinger decided to accept the risks as par for the course.

but later came back to life at sea level. through the cracks in the bomb bay. Rescue missions were out of the question. Fortunately. the hum of the engines eventually dropped Hollinger off to sleep. and crash against the fuselage. over 2. Too bad he couldn’t do a crossword.000 miles of nervewracking boredom. the pilot had to climb to thinner air. Hollinger had deciphered the pilot’s strategy. The North Atlantic headwinds were the strongest at sea level.ocean. Forty-four in total had died. Quebec. 319 . where the wing would ice up. The flight would take approximately sixteen hours from Prestwick to Dorval. Two hours into the unforgiving Atlantic airstream. instantly. assuming anyone would ever receive the radio signal in the first place. the ice would come sliding off the wing. On one occasion. This flight did not sit well with him. lit by the moonlight. Hollinger laid down on one of the mattresses on the plywood deck above the bomb bay – head-to-toe with the group of airmen – and flipped on his oxygen mask. so much ice formed inside one engine that it quit temporarily. to conserve fuel. There. both minutes out of Prestwick and only four days apart. Hollinger could see the ground off and on. The B-24 took off and climbed into the scattered cloud. Climb and dive. forcing him to dive for sea level. Therefore. Heavy on his mind were the two Dorval-bound BOAC B24’s that had crashed into the Scottish hills in August. It was deathly dark.

He turned away. The exposed flesh on his face was freezing. Iceland Hollinger heard the bad news once they had landed safely at the Royal Air Force base on the south coast of the island. gasping in the mask cramped to his mouth. They went into another dive. He knew something sounded different. **** 320 . his body a block of ice. He still had several hours to go. It needed parts. A few thousand feet.He woke up. for sure. He couldn’t tell how far away the white caps were. But this time the engine didn’t start. He was going to catch his death of cold by the time the aircraft landed. This far north in December. Then one engine quit. And number four was leaking oil to boot. Huddled under a thick blanket. Hollinger saw the ocean below through the crack by his face. Only daylight between the Liberator and the vast expanse of water. **** Kaflavik. the sunlight wouldn’t last long. He began to doze off. British mechanics determined that the B-24’s number two engine had an electrical short. He started to perspire. Hollinger flicked his eyes open. How long had he been out? He didn’t know.

Whereabouts unknown. the latest decoded Japanese message sent from Tokyo to its Washington Embassy. 3 submarine tenders. All 4 carriers at sea. Hawaii Edgar Heinemann adjusted the focus range on his binoculars and looked over the waterway from Aiea Heights. But no Enterprise. In dock: 4 cruisers. the Lexington steamed out. It was a long-winded thirteen-part communiqué that the Ambassador was told not to deliver to the Americans 321 . accompanied by five heavy cruisers. All four of them. 17 destroyers. 3 cruisers. the carriers. a sealed envelope was delivered to President Roosevelt. At least an outside chance. Yet. Five of the battleships had remained in port for a week. they probably wouldn’t return. Ships at anchor at 1800 hours: 9 battleships. **** The White House – December 6 At 0930 hours. 3 destroyers. two returning the day before. The big prizes.Pearl Harbor. That day. Heinemann squatted in the weeds and wrote down his assessment of Pearl Harbor and the sought-after Battleship Row. were gone. The Hornet and Yorktown had not been heard from for days. the cruiser escort attached to the Enterprise had returned after being out of harbor for a week. With the weekend coming on. Not now. However. Perhaps by Sunday or Monday.

One part – the fourteenth point – was held back until further notice. Then. ordering Nomura and Kurusu to destroy their codebooks. one specifically against sabotage. The President turned. American codebreakers had been receiving and decoding Japanese messages depicting their dissatisfaction with Washington. cleared the bile in his throat.” “Neither do I. put the thirteen-part message down. on December 2. Then the deadline was extended another four days.until specified by Tokyo. President. Not at all. Roosevelt knew it was all coming to a head. The Japanese were riled. The US forces in Hawaii had received and acted upon two alerts. They were ordered to wait until the 25th for a reply. the American code-breakers had intercepted a message from Tokyo to their Embassy in Washington. Mr. what do you make of it?” Hopkins only sighed. “I don’t like it. Harry Hopkins. “Harry.” 322 . The US Ambassador in Tokyo had been warning Washington for months of an armed conflict somewhere in the Pacific. Japan’s Ambassador to the US Kichisaburo Nomura and Special Envoy Saburo Kurusu had presented a final proposal of the ongoing negotiations to Washington on November 20th. and said to Hopkins. Harry. The President wondered aloud what was in the fourteenth part as he turned to his adviser.

Tora. Tora!” 323 . .” he said. Here they come.CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE Pearl Harbor Edgar Heinemann stood in the weeds on the hillside across the Harbor. Now. “You are under arrest. Come with us.” **** Within sight of Pearl Harbor. Commander Mitsuo Fichida. radioed Admiral Nagumo at sea.” “Is it against the law to watch the Harbor?” “No. coolly. “What’s the charge then?” They both drew guns. not ten feet away. The bright red-ball markings on the wings told him they were none other than . the leader of the attack. “Treason. Japanese. “Tora. . “Edgar Heinemann?” The German spun around to see two tall men in suits.” one of them said. “Yes. focusing on the sudden incoming flight of aircraft.

How did they catch him so soon? **** Bolling Air Force Base It was early afternoon in Washington. crowded air terminal. . Within two minutes. alive with people who had just arrived from other flights. He could feel the concussion of the hits on the ships. The word repeated three times signified to Nagumo that his aircraft had caught the American Fleet by complete surprise. the black smoke. The second wave of one hundred and eighty-three aircraft was halfway to Oahu.” 324 . He watched as the low-flying fighters beat a path to Battleship Row. **** Edgar Heinemann saw it as the two men handcuffed him. . you’ll never believe what I have in here. flung him into the black Mr.” Hollinger slapped his briefcase. . and drove away.Tora meant Tiger. the waterspouts . The Japanese Blitzkrieg was on. the bomb explosions . . as the fighters targeted the nearby airfields. “Colonel. Hollinger picked out the round face of Colonel Bill Donovan inside the noisy. . the first wave dive-bombers dove for the ships on and around Battleship Row. He saw the ack-ack puffs from the American gunners . Kid? I knew it had to be important when you used our private code. . “What’s up.

“Let’s talk in the car. I can’t hear myself think with this racket.” Donovan gave the keys to the government Packard to Hollinger. On the way to the new COI Headquarters on the corners of Pennsylvania and Constitution Avenues near Capitol Hill, he spoke hurriedly of the American loans. Donovan listened long and hard, eyeing Hollinger’s May 9 Falcon File paperwork proof, before he responded. “I know all this, Wesley.” “You do?” “Yes, I do. I have a spy inside one of the firms mentioned here, at Kerr, Chapman & Company. They’re the ones holding all the loan paperwork for the Wall Street banking conglomerate dealing with the German businessmen.” “You’re referring to the I.S. Filberg mentioned there?” “That’s them, Wesley. It’s a big industrial business outfit. The largest in Europe. Been around for a few years.” “Sir, now that the British know about this banking deal, what can we do?” “Hell if I know.” Following a long period of silence, Donovan clicked the radio on. It was the middle of a special broadcast, something about Hawaii. He turned the volume up. In stunned silence, they listened. The out of breath announcer repeated the news flash three times. The Japanese had attacked Pearl Harbor. It had to be a joke.


Donovan changed the station. The same thing was on another frequency. He turned to Hollinger. “They did it, Wesley! The bastards attacked us!” The COI leader pointed through the windshield. “Stop here.” Hollinger pulled the car over to the curb on Pennsylvania Avenue.

The State Department, Washington
Japanese diplomats Nomura and Kurusu delivered the fourteenth part of the December 6th message to Secretary of State Cordell Hull, who by now had received the shocking news from Hawaii. Worse, a second wave of Japanese aircraft had struck. The diplomats were one hour late, and looked embarrassed. The fourteenth part was a declaration of war. In anger, Hull told them what he thought of them and shooed them out the door.

Pennsylvania Avenue
Donovan and Hollinger stared straight ahead through the windshield. “Did you know that reports have been out on a potential Pearl Harbor attack for months?” Donovan said. Hollinger turned his head. “You’re kidding! How! What gives?”


“In the spring, the Peruvian Ambassador in Tokyo overhead such a conversation between two Japanese diplomats. He told Joseph Grew, our Ambassador in Tokyo, and he notified Washington.” “Obviously nothing was done about it.” Donovan shrugged. “No proof. The attack had to hit home to be effective. Our code breakers – the same organization you had worked for – got wind of it too. In ample time. Tokyo were still in communication with their Embassy here at all times on the Purple traffic.” Donovan paused, then went on. “Back in October, our Army Signal Intelligence Service decrypted a message from Tokyo to Consul General Kita in Honolulu asking for the exact locations of our warships and carriers at Pearl Harbor. But something got lost in our translation to Hawaii.” “Was the information passed on to Kimmel or Short?” “Someone in Washington said no. That’s not all. A German spy, Edgar Heinemann, was sent to Honolulu in August and has been feeding the Japanese Consul with data for months. And we were ordered by Washington to lay off him completely, because we could intercept his messages anyway.” Hollinger instantly recognized the name Heinemann. Eiser’s mentor. “There’s going to be hell to pay now for Kimmel and Short,” Donovan continued. “Left in the dark and all.” “What do you mean, sir?” “They weren’t in on the code breaking.”


Hollinger felt sick. “You mean to tell me that the top Army and Navy commanders in Hawaii weren’t even told that we were reading the Japanese transmissions from Tokyo?” “That’s right.” Hollinger shook his head. “Why not? They were the closest to Japan.” “I don’t know. Maybe Washington didn’t want a leak.” “And now they’re going to take it on the chin, I bet?” “Chances are, they will.” “Sir, I remember what you said to me months ago on the way to the White House. Certain people wanted a war. You meant the banks, didn’t you? Wall Street banks.” “Yes, that’s who I meant. The same banking houses that financed Hitler when his men came calling hat in hand for loans a number of years ago, before the Nazis rose to power.” “Can these deals this year still be honored?” “Yes. We’re not at war with Germany, only with the Japanese.” “If Congress passes such a resolution.” “They will,” Donovan said. “There’s no doubt. But I don’t think they’re committed to two fronts. Germany didn’t attack us. Japan did. Under our Constitution, only Congress can declare war. We’ll see if Hitler plays it smart. Technically, we’re not at war with Germany. Hitler might just choose to stay out of it. Under the terms of the Italian-German-Japanese Triparte Pact, Germany doesn’t have to declare war on us since Japan

was the aggressor. However, we know that Hitler was doing his best to keep us out of this until the German army could at least defeat Russia. It’s forty below in Moscow now. Yesterday, Soviet General Zhukov – their last hope – launched a counteroffensive outside Moscow with thousands of fresh, well-clothed troops. Early reports are sketchy. We don’t know how it’s progressing. But we do know from our Embassy in Moscow that Stalin had fled the city. If Hitler does declare war on us, then his own reports must tell him that Russia is no more. As good as dead.” “Colonel?” Hollinger asked Donovan. “Yes, my boy.” “Seems to me that Washington and Wall Street wanted to get into this. And they could have used Japan to do it.” Donovan looked straight ahead. “I refuse to answer that on the grounds that it might incriminate me. Let’s go. The office will be buzzing today.” “What a way to run a war.” Hollinger removed his fedora and twirled it into the back seat. “Somebody has to be the scapegoat. Poor Kimmel and Short.” “Exactly. And the banks come out smelling like a rose. Let’s go.” Hollinger took hold of the steering wheel. “So, we’re in it.”


The House of Representatives – December 8
The President of the United States jerked to his metal legs and approached the podium for the urgent joint session of Congress. Every seat was occupied this noon period. Any other day at this hour most of the members would be gone for lunch. Not today. The President cleared his throat and commenced firing, his voice heavy with emotion. “Yesterday, December 7, 1941 – a date which will live in infamy – the United States of America was suddenly and deliberately attacked by naval and air forces of the Empire of Japan. Last night Japanese forces attacked Hong Kong. Last night Japanese forces attacked Guam.” The President paused, looking to Wild Bill and Hollinger in the balcony. He wasn’t talking out of both sides of his mouth now. “Last night Japanese forces attacked the Philippine Islands. Last night the Japanese attacked Wake Island. This morning the Japanese attacked Midway Island. With confidence in our armed forces, with the unbounding determination of our people, we will gain the

inevitable triumph, so help us God. I ask this Congress to declare that a state of war exists between the United States of American and the Empire of Japan.” Congress roared its approval with a standing ovation. President Roosevelt sat down. He could picture the future in a panoramic view, American factories pushing out shells, tanks, fighters, bombers, transports, aircraft carriers, and destroyers. Then an invasion of Japan. Roosevelt brought to mind the words of a great American, John Paul Jones. “I have not yet begun to fight.” How quickly opinion had changed. Once the war had begun in 1939, the isolationists and the Communist supporters had detested Roosevelt’s pro-British policies and his Lend-Lease shipments to the island. They had staged speeches, protests, and marches. Until Russia had been attacked in June. Then – like magic – Communist supporters were all in favor of Lend-Lease, especially, of course, to the Soviet Union, America’s overnight ally in the fight against Hitler. The last group, the isolationists, had now fallen with the news of Pearl Harbor. Throughout the morning, Roosevelt had been receiving phone calls and telegrams of support, many from the same isolationists who had been campaigning for America First the days, weeks, and months before. This was an infuriated America. This was a country on a war footing. The war wasn’t thousands of miles away any longer. It was right here, staring them all in the face. And the future was in the hands of Congress to decide.


The President looked up to the balcony. His eyes fell once more onto the grim faces of the two COI men. They saw the presidential stare. Hollinger stirred in his seat, thinking. The cry of Thank God for Hitler would be only a memory. Soon, it would be Remember Pearl Harbor. The applause died down. Donovan used the opportunity to turn to Hollinger and say, “There was one thing I failed to mention yesterday.” “What’s that, sir?” “If we go to war with Germany, the Wall Street banks win no matter what. They can’t lose. And I’ll tell you why. You’ve heard of the Federal Reserve?” “Yes. Sort of. The government money supply.” Donovan shook his head. “Wrong, my boy. Try private money supply. Let me give you a little history lesson here.” Donovan looked around, and continued. “In 1911, seven influential financial men met secretly to concoct a plan to control the American money supply. They made a proposal to Washington and Washington fell into step. Since 1913 with the passing of the Federal Reserve Act, the United States treasury has been in private hands, disguised as a government agency. The banks mentioned in your Falcon File all had people at that meeting. What I’m trying to say is that Wall Street controls Washington’s cash. They control the President. They put him in power. They financed him. They financed Hitler. They wanted this war. And they’ve made deals with the Nazis this year. And I know one other thing, too. A couple of those firms, one of them a Rockefeller bank,

put Lenin in power during the October Revolution in 1917.” “Our own bankers?” “It’s business, Wesley. Big business. Whenever somebody around the world wants money, they go to Wall Street.” Hollinger was crushed. “I don’t know what to say.” “What can you say?” “You know, at least Roosevelt’s off the hook,” Hollinger said. “Congress can’t impeach him now.” “Right. Let’s go,” Donovan said, checking his wristwatch. He had arranged a Clipper flight for Hollinger later that afternoon, a New York-to-Lisbon-to-London, under high priority. “Don’t want to miss your plane.” Hollinger turned and knocked into a woman. “Sorry, ma’am. Well, if it isn’t Miss Harris.” Lydia Harris smiled, fighting to find her voice. “Mr. Hollinger. I never expected to see you again.” “And what are you doing here?” “The New York Times sent me to Washington to cover the event.” “Came for the fireworks, did you?” “Yeah. You were right. We got into it.” Hollinger grinned. “Lucky guess. And you didn’t think we’d ever see each other again, did you?” Donovan tugged at Hollinger’s sleeve. “Time’s a wasting. Excuse us, Miss.” In the hall, Donovan asked, “She’s the one you’ve been telling me about, eh?” “Yes, sir. The MI-6 courier.”

“Nice-looking. Sharp dresser. Seems intelligent enough. After what she’s been through, the COI might be able to use her. I’ll keep her in mind.” The car radio was all war. On the way to the airport, Donovan and Hollinger listened to early reports from the Russian Front. General Zhukov’s fresh troops had turned back the Germans at the gates of Moscow. The Germans were in retreat. Then came the news of the vote. It took Congress thirty-three minutes to pass an overwhelming resolution declaring war on Japan.

London – December 11
Three days later, they were standing in the Big Guy’s Hole in the Ground below Whitehall, listening to Hitler’s speech to the German people over the clear shortwave signal. Hollinger interpreted the Fuehrer’s speech as best he could for Churchill, Lampert, and Langford. They were waiting patiently for the final phrase that they knew was sure to come. “Although Germany for her part, as always, strictly observed the rules of international law in her dealings with the United States throughout the present war, the Government of the United States has finally proceeded to overt acts of war against Germany. It has, therefore, virtually created a state of war. The Reich Government therefore breaks off all diplomatic relations with the United States and declares that under these circumstances brought about by President Roosevelt, Germany

too considers herself to be at war with the United States, as from today.” Churchill leaned on his cane and shut the short wave off. He was all smiles. And why not? The Americans and British were in the global war, together. Allies. What he had always wanted. “Sit down, everybody,” Churchill ordered. He faced Lampert, and poked him in the stomach. “The young lady is cleared is she?” “Yes, sir. Absolutely.” Lampert settled into an armchair. He glanced over at Langford. “I trust her implicitly.” Langford smiled her thanks at Lampert. A male servant brought in a polished aluminum tray with four crystal glasses and set them down on a corner table, next to a large bottle of champagne. Wesley Hollinger had done as promised. He had gotten Roberta Langford a visit to the Prime Minister’s residence and the underground part of it. She was overwhelmed. For Hollinger, it was the first time here since the day after Germany’s attack on Russia in June. “Well?” the American whispered out of the side of his mouth, as he and Langford took to the same couch together. She smiled, her voice low. “You said you would get me to meet him, and you did.” “I never break a promise.” “Really? Let me think about that one for a spell.” “Don’t you dare kick your shoes off in here.” She glared at him. “Or chew gum.”

“No problem. I swallowed it on the way in.” Churchill cleared his throat. “Young Wesley?” Hollinger stiffened. “Yes, sir.” “What do you think of Hitler now?” “He really is crazy, I have to admit.” “That’s the spirit. I’m glad that’s settled. We’re going to win this war. And whip this Master Race idea out of the Germans.” “Hitler had no reason to declare war on us,” Hollinger spoke up, “other than wanting to beat Roosevelt to it, I guess. He said it himself. He would always deal out the first blow. The big goof. Sounds like he did everyone a favor. Imagine, saying that Roosevelt provoked Germany to war to cover up our New Deal failures. Hitler will get a taste of how weak and built-on-thedollar we are.” “Does that mean I’m not the son-of-a-bitch some people think I am?” Churchill walked to the end of the room, then turned. “No, sir,” Hollinger blushed. He realized that Churchill’s methods were justified by good intentions. The more against Hitler, the better. “See. I told you not to call him that name,” Langford whispered. “He found out.” “Quiet!” “By the way, Wesley, I read Mein Kampf too,” Churchill continued. “We’re in an honored club. There’s very few of us in the Free World who’ve had that glimpse of the thug in high office. And never mind those five countries he promised as concessions. He’s a filthy liar.

By the time this war is over the whole world will see what kind of man this Hitler monster is.” “I’m sure they will, sir.” “Another thing. That Lisbon flight – 725. Awful! But we’re saving Enigma for when it will be put to the best of use. Invasion time. Maybe invasions are out of the question now. But they’re coming. Combined British and American efforts. Then we will read and act upon the German signals. We’ll send Hitler back to hell. Your President and I will turn Great Britain into a giant supply base, a launch sight, and a fortress. Then I won’t have to play God with my people anymore. I don’t like playing God. We will drag the Hun’s bloody nose into the ground and trample it. Unconditional surrender. After it’s over, we will stage trials for the lot of those Nazi gutter rats for the world to view.” “What about Schubert? What will happen to him?” Hollinger asked. “Leave that to us,” Churchill answered. “How’s Wild Bill taking this new war footing for the Americans?” Churchill asked. Hollinger looked up. “Ready to roll. He sends you his best, sir.” “And the President?” “The same. He’s looking forward to your next meeting.” Is he ever, thought Hollinger. The Prime Minister pulled a piece of paper from his suit jacket, and slipped on his pair of half-moon reading glasses. “Quite the report from Donovan. The Hawaiian Islands are under martial law. The writ of habeas corpus

is suspended. The Japanese consulate was seized. A roundup of Japanese aliens, all ordered to register. Your forces had eighteen ships seriously damaged or sunk, 174 aircraft destroyed, and over 3,000 casualties. Twenty-four hundred dead. Half of those aboard the battleship Arizona. Damn awful shame. But the Japs didn’t get the carriers.” “Thank God for that,” Hollinger piped up. “And, lucky for us, they missed the dry docks, the oil tanks, and the salvage equipment just across the Harbor.” “Donovan also tells me that you’re to help organize a department branch at the new COI London office.” “That’s right, sir. The SI. Secret Intelligence.” “Very good. This calls for a toast. To the new alliance. No disrespect to your losses.” Hollinger nodded. “No disrespect taken, sir.” Churchill turned to the table. “Would you mind pouring, colonel?” Lampert came to his feet, slowly. “My pleasure, sir.” All four stood, drinks in their hands, smiles on their faces. “A toast,” Churchill said, “to our new alliance. Britain and America.” “To Britain and America,” the other three replied as one and drank. “A second toast.” Churchill’s face saddened. “My mother would approve, God rest her soul. To the Americans who gave their lives. Dreadful. I feel the pain as a half-American. Remember Pearl Harbor.” “Hear, hear,” said Lampert.

“Remember Pearl Harbor,” they uttered. They drank again. Lampert cleared his throat. “I would like to make a third toast.” “What’s that, colonel,” Churchill asked, licking his lips. “To Wesley and Miss Langford. Their engagement.” “I didn’t know. Wedding Bells in the near future for you two?” Churchill asked. “The summer, sir,” Langford answered her Prime Minister, while she admired her engagement ring. For her, it would mean a wartime wedding. A sprinkle of confetti. Just Married sign on the MG. Quick honeymoon. Good sex. Back to work. “Congratulations.” Lampert and Churchill held their glasses up. “To Miss Langford and Wesley,” the Prime Minister said. “The other British-American alliance.” He walked to a side cabinet and dug out two cigars. “Join me, Colonel.” “I certainly will, sir.” Hollinger grinned. “What about me?” Lampert and Churchill stared at each other and burst into laughter. Langford shook her head, smirking. “The Tyrant of Hut Nine is going to smoke a cigar?” Hollinger chuckled. “For the sake of international harmony.” He thought of the old Wild West. “Kind of like . . . you know, Chief Sitting Bull . . . a peace pipe.”
**** 339

Long Island, New York – December 12
Wolfgang Schroeder was the North American representative for I.S Filberg, working out of the German Embassy in Washington. He was distinctly German, blonde, rigid, perfect manners, black double-breasted suit, starched white shirt, red tie. His colors today reminded Vincent Chapman of the Nazi flag. Following a light two-minute discussion, Schroeder drank down the rest of his French wine in Chapman’s paneled study. The German was in a hurry to leave the country under a diplomatic truce, a passenger boat waiting for him. “All we want is your assurance – on behalf of your partners – that we will still be dealing in the midst of war.” Chapman smiled, and folded his hands over his expensive suit. “You have our word. We will never allow a war to get in the way of profit. For both of us. You also have our word that none of your factories will be bombed, not with an American board of directors at the helm. Furthermore, German assets in this country will be protected.” Schroeder smiled. “What if my country should lose, Herr Chapman, which I fear?” “Then we will simply help you in your recovery.” “I see. But will your government go along with all this?” Chapman scratched his chin. “Don’t you worry about our government. Someone has Roosevelt and the Treasury in our hip pocket.”


Washington – December 13
In the Oval Office, President Franklin Delano Roosevelt reread the one-page Executive Order 8389 in his hands.

CHAPTER X – GENERAL LICENSES GENERAL LICENSE UNDER SECTION 3 (a) OF THE TRADING WITH THE ENEMY ACT By virtue of and pursuant to the authority vested in me by sections 3 and 5 of the Trading with the Enemy Act, as amended, and by virtue of all other authority vested in me, I, FRANKLIN D. ROOSEVELT, PRESIDENT of the UNITED STATES OF AMERICA, do prescribe the following: A general license is hereby granted licensing any transaction or act prohibited by section 3 (a) of the Trading with the Enemy Act, as amended, provided, however, that such transaction or act is authorized by the Secretary of the Treasury by means of regulations, rulings, instructions, licenses or otherwise, pursuant to Executive Order No. 8389, as amended. FRANKLIN D ROOSEVELT THE WHITE HOUSE December 13, 1941


H. MORGENTHAU, JR Secretary of the Treasury FRANCIS BIDDLE Attorney General of the United States


Near Torquay, England – July 1942
It had been warm the entire day, no clouds, bright blue sky. The Channel stretched out before them. They strolled along the secluded beach, huddled arm in arm, two lovers, married less than twenty-four hours before. They felt as if they were the last two people alive. Wesley and Robbie were now Mr. and Mrs. Hollinger. They made their way to the blanket on the rise over the water, their bare feet making deep prints in the wet sand. The tide was coming in. They looked upon the long line of palm trees that skimmed the barbwire coast as far as they could. They hugged on the blanket, their bodies astride each other. He poured the wine for her, then filled his own crystal glass. The air began to cool. She threw on his shirt over her swimsuit. They squinted into the setting sun on the western horizon. “Palm trees in Britain. Amazing,” Hollinger said. “They were planted some years ago. Brought in from Portugal, I heard.” “Nice touch.” “Wesley?” “Yes, my sweet.”

“We’re going to win this, aren’t we?” They had tried to forget about the war for at least today. Early game of competitive tennis. Breakfast on the hotel terrace. A drive along the shore. Sightseeing. Late dinner. Then to the beach. But the anti-invasion barbwire had brought them back to reality. “We’re off to a good start, this year,” he said. “We sunk four Jap carriers off Midway. This fellow Eisenhower is our new European Commander. He’s pretty tough, I hear. Ike, they call him. Montgomery has the Hun on the run in the desert. Our bombers made their first daylight strike on Occupied Europe. Yeah, all in all, we’re getting there with this new joint venture. But, it will be a long haul yet. A few more years.” They didn’t speak for nearly a minute. The sun was dipping below the horizon. “I love you,” she said sincerely, lying on her back, her eyes never leaving him. “I love you too, Roberta Langford-Hollinger. More than you’ll ever realize.” “You know what?” she said. “What?” “You’re getting some gray hairs.” “Where?” “Above your ears.” Moving over her, he kissed her softly on the lips. “How’s that for an old guy?” “Careful, boy. Not here,” she said, not too convincingly. “I’m not your old flame. What’s her name? Annie Fannie?”

“Annie! Why did you have to bring her up? I haven’t seen her in, oh, at least six months.” “Of course not. I had the colonel transfer her out.” “You didn’t.” “I did.” “I always wondered what happened to her. Got rid of the competition, did you?” “You bet. Tell me, does she really have a Union Jack tattoo on her bottom.” “That’s sensitive information.” “You’re not kidding. Well, does she or doesn’t she?” “I’ll never tell. It’s . . . classified.” He held her closer. “You scoundrel. Can’t you wait till you get back to the hotel?” “No. Yes. It’s just that I’ve never done it on a beach before.” “Neither have I, now that you mention it.” “Come on. Nobody’s around.” She grinned; her eyes sparkled. “Come to think of it, the blanket might be wide enough to fit into.” “Well, then, what are we waiting for?” Giggling like school kids, they removed their swimsuits and rolled naked into the blanket. “Is this what you call . . . the American way?” she asked, smirking, kissing him on the neck. He laughed. “Yeah, something like that.” For the next twenty minutes, neither Annie Fannie nor the war mattered to the honeymooning Hollingers.


Nuremberg, Germany – November 1945
Twenty-one high-profile Nazi leaders faced an international tribunal formed by the Allied nations on charges of war crimes. The world was about to witness what would be the most sensational and the longest trial in global history. The first day, Schubert remained calm, drowsy, detached from it all. The other prisoners – except for Goering who sat beside him – were tense. The surviving Nazi leaders were astonished at Goering’s attitude towards the Deputy Fuehrer. Apparently, the widelyknown pre-1941 hatred between the two had vanished. Similarly to the other Nazi leaders on trial, the former Luftwaffe Commander-in-Chief was now only a shadow of his former self. Once obese, he was now ghostly pale and skinny, and his hands shook uncontrollably at times. For the first two days, Felix Schubert continued in the erratic behavior he had kept up since 1941. One evening, a tall, well-dressed Englishman entered his cell and told the German blankly that from then on, Schubert was to

shut up and play along, or face terrible consequences. And he was promised a life sentence if he cooperated. Guaranteed. On the third day, Schubert brought a novel with him and read it while the tribunal proceedings were played out. During a short pause, Goering turned to the prisoner, and whispered, “You are disgracing us.” Schubert laughed. “What chance do we stand? We’re all guilty.” “In that case, why don’t we tell the court our big secret?” Goering whispered back. “We’ve got nothing to lose. It might liven things up. Your amnesia act is terrible. I know you’re not the real Rudolf Hess.” Schubert’s whole body turned to Goering. “And how do you know that, dare I ask?” The former Luftwaffe leader laughed and slapped Schubert on the back. “Because . . . maybe . . . I’m not the real Hermann Goering.”


As was the case in The Fuehrermaster, many characters in this novel are fictional. They include Wesley Hollinger, Raymond Lampert, Roberta Langford, Max Preston, David Shean, Aris Palini, Smith, Lydia Harris, Denise, Kenneth Sims, Stephen Jordan, Hans Schmidt, Adam Eiser, Walter Buhle, Felix Schubert, Ernst Rodel, and Albert von Reiden. The organizations of Kerr, Chapman & Company, and I.S. Filberg are also fictionalized.

Following the attack, America flexed its muscles. They won their first major battle at Midway in June, 1942, compliments of the same carriers that the Japanese Task Force had failed to hit on December 7, 1941. After that, the Japanese fought a defensive war. America mobilized itself into a strong fighting force that combined with Britain and other Allies to crush Nazi Germany and Japan.


Today, the rumors still fly about the attack. Certain writers such as John Toland, in his 1982 book, Infamy, have stated that President Roosevelt and his top advisers knew beforehand where the Japanese were going to strike, but allowed it to happen so that America would be brought into the war with a fervor and a vengeance, backed by her people. Hawaii’s Commanders, General Walter Short of the Army, and Admiral Husband Kimmel of the Navy, were not told of the Japanese Purple Code being broken by American Intelligence until well after they had been dismissed and had taken the fall for a government that was negligent in alerting them to the Japanese danger. To their deaths they had received the blame and the scorn of the American public, while Washington came out unscathed.

Visibly ill during his next presidential campaign in 1944, he was elected to an unprecedented fourth term in office. He died the following year, a few days short of Germany’s surrender. He was the man behind the highly sensitive and secretive Manhattan Project – the building of the atomic bomb – that eventually defeated Japan in the summer of 1945.


The secrets were saved for when they would be really needed, as Winston Churchill had so vividly stated in this novel. The meticulous code-breaking process kept the Allies informed of enemy concentrations during the Battle of the Atlantic; General Irwin Rommel’s movements in Africa; Operation Torch, the invasion of North Africa; and Operation Overload, the invasion of Europe and what followed until Germany was defeated. Enigma was instrumental in winning the European war. The Germans never suspected a thing.

By mid-1942, the Office of the Coordinator of Information became the OSS – the Office of Strategic Services. Wild Bill Donovan, Roosevelt’s close friend, remained its director, with the new rank of General. The OSS grew by leaps and bounds. Donovan masterminded covert operations and guerilla warfare behind enemy territory. By war’s end, the OSS had offices in nearly every European country. Two years later, in 1947, the organization changed its name again, this time to the Central Intelligence Agency. The CIA. By then, Donovan had bowed out of official clandestine work and returned to his New York law practice. He died in 1959.


Kept a low profile after the Rudolf Hess flight, pleading innocence and shying away from interviews until his death in 1972.

Many leading German generals and industrialists questioned his leadership, and tried to assassinate him in a bomb blast in July 1944. He survived. His revenge was brutal, resulting in a purge of hundreds of officers and civilians. Recent Russian KGB files indicate that the Fuehrer and his long time mistress Eva Braun committed suicide in Hitler’s Chancellory bunker days before the war ended, and their bodies were taken back to Moscow.

Carried out Hitler’s orders to exterminate the Jews by organizing the Final Solution death camps that will forever remain a dark stain in the annals of human history. During the war, he sent out several peace feelers to the Americans through Switzerland. One of the plans was to kidnap Hitler and hand him to the Allies. In 1944, he

had infiltrated the German conspirator movement prior to the Hitler bombing and waited to see if the group of discontented generals and industrialists were successful. When Hitler lived through the blast, Himmler moved swiftly to carry out his Fuehrer’s revenge and to cover his own tracks. Unable to kidnap Hitler and sue the Allies for peace, Himmler committed suicide when American troops captured him in May 1945.

Whether he was the real Hess is still debatable. Rumors have persisted for years that the British had an impostor on their hands. At the Nuremberg Trials, the prisoner was sentenced on October 1, 1946. He was found not guilty of War Crimes and Crimes against Humanity, but guilty of Conspiracy and Crimes against Peace. He was given life imprisonment at Spandau Prison, Berlin. He died there in 1987, in his nineties, an apparent suicide by hanging. Some historians believe he was murdered. The truth of the Rudolf Hess flight to Scotland will become official when the 100-year secrets stamp on it is lifted in the year 2041.


Despite his strong leadership through the war, the British voted him out of office in 1945, because they thought he was great in war but would be lousy in peace time. Six years later, the voters had a change of heart and voted him back into office at age 76. To his dying day in 1965, he always carefully avoided discussing the Rudolf Hess incident. “I never attached any serious importance to the escapade,” he once wrote. Certain gossip about Churchill has persisted to this day. Did the Prime Minister do everything he could to draw the Americans into World War II? If so, one must remember that his prime objective was to beat Hitler. Whether Hitler planned to rule the globe with his New World Order or merely control Europe side-by-side with the British was not the issue to Churchill. After Germany was overrun in 1945 by the Allies, and the Nazi death camps were revealed to a shocked world community, could anyone really blame Churchill for some of the bulldog-tough, no-holds-barred decisions he had to make earlier in the war?

The Nazi-Wall Street connection in this novel is too close to the truth. The German business cartel of I.G. Farben – I.S. Filberg in the story – sought funds for Hitler in the 1920s and 1930s and as a result received generous cash loans from Wall Street firms such as

Jewish-run Kuhn, Loeb & Company; two Rockefellerowned banks, National City Bank, and Dillion, Read & Company; and others, including a J.P. Morgan bank. I.G. Farben also hired Ivy Lee, the New York public relations firm, to improve Hitler’s image to the American eye. This was the same Ivy Lee that the Rockefellers relied upon on occasion for their own PR work. Years earlier, the Ivy Lee firm had sold the new communist regime to the Americans following the October Revolution. Also, Kuhn, Loeb & Company’s head, Jacob Schiff, personally financed the Communists in 1917 to the tune of $20 million dollars, this confirmed in 1949 by Schiff’s grandson, John, to the New York Journal American. It’s interesting to note that no I.G. Farben factories were bombed during the war, this upon orders from the U.S. War Department. Why? Because two high officials, namely Secretary of War Robert Patterson, and Secretary of Defense James Forrestal had both been employed by Dillion, Read, & Company before the war, not to mention the fact that powerful Americans were on the Board of Directors. Money talks, even in war. When there’s blood in the streets, there’s profit in the boardrooms.


In 1990. Erin. Ontario. The Mary Jane Mission came out two years later. A big baseball fan. In the summer months. This was followed up in 1986 by Maximum Effort with the same publisher. Canada in 1984. Wyatt enjoys collecting Detroit Tigers memorabilia. Ontario. His first published work was a set of first-person stories from World War II allied air force veterans called Two Wings and a Prayer by Boston Mills Press. thirty miles outside Toronto. a techno-thriller set during the Cold War years of the late 1950’s. born and raised on the prairies of Saskatchewan. He now resides with his wife and two children in Burlington. Wyatt’s other published works include aviation magazine articles in Canada and the United States.About the author Historical fiction author Daniel Wyatt is Canadian. Wyatt made the switch to historical fiction with The Last Flight of the Arrow. 355 . he coaches a local fastball team.

Books by the author The Last Flight of the Arrow The Mary Jane Mission The Falcon File series: The Fuehrermaster The Filberg Consortium Foo Fighters 356 .

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