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T H E F I L B E RG C O N S O RT I UM
D A N I E L W YAT T
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.
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
He farmed them out to observe and report. By mid-1941. Wild Bill began structuring a top-secret federal organization. With Roosevelt’s blessings. which gave him the ammunition he needed to model an American intelligence agency after the British. He discovered that the two departments’ paths crossed on occasion. 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 took two trips to England in 1940. obtaining intelligence information that would someday be useful to his country. He studied MI-5. it could not have come any sooner for a handful of Americans and Brits in-the-know. and the MI-6 Secret Intelligence Service. The Irishman had conferred with various heads of state and prominent people. the experts in counterespionage on English territory. That was a good sign.” “Why do you say that. “Somebody is going to get their war soon. Closing the newspaper.his old friend. he was hoping that the work was not in vain. sir?” 18 . Donovan threw Hollinger a sideways glance. Democrat President Franklin Delano Roosevelt. Considering the shaky world position. He recruited individuals. Wesley Hollinger was a product of that system. who specialized in foreign espionage.” The American spy agency – the COI for short – was officially up and running. That meant cooperation.
that’s who. and turned at the street sign marked Pennsylvania Avenue. **** 19 . If only that cheeky redhead were here to see him. “Oh.” the colonel replied. In the distance. you’re still young yet. “Nope. He looked ahead. The White House. sir. that’s why.” The light turned red. “What was that?” “Nothing. And they always get what they want. he saw it.“Because some high-ups want it. “Roosevelt supporters. “Sir. and Hollinger nearly slammed into the car in front of him. Hollinger slowed the Packard down at the light ahead.” Hollinger mumbled. sir. shit!” “Damn it! Watch it. his former secretary at his Wall Street lawyer’s office. Certain people.” Hollinger felt uneasy. Take a right at the next block. He couldn’t believe he was doing this. People who stand to make a lot of money if we go to war.” “You mean the President and his staff?” Donovan shook his head.” “Thank God for Hitler.” “Yes. thinking of the telephone conversation he had that morning with Aris. Wesley!” Hollinger shot a glance at his boss. are you telling me that–” “I’ve said enough. “Who’s higher than the President?” “Wesley. Higher than that. And idealistic.
Ours.” “If he doesn’t bite.” “Jolly good. sir. But can the Kid do it how we want him to do it?” “Second thoughts. You left word for me?” The Prime Minister’s familiar lisp was clipped.” “Yes.MI-6 Headquarters. Margaret. “Can you hear me. “Yes. London The secretary finger-tapped on the office door. anxious for a reply.” “Very good.” Lampert punched a white button on the side of the C-phone attached to a two-by-two-foot square box by his feet. and will be briefing the President at tenthirty. I did. “Yes. sir.” “There’s a good lot resting on our errand boy. I can. He made it safe and sound last evening. “Colonel. What do you think he’ll say.” “As long as the Big Fish in Washington buys it. colonel?” 20 . we’re done for. Washington time. I should expect. the Prime Minister is on the line. sir. It was not in his best interests to keep Winston Churchill waiting on his Whitehall 4433 private line. He’s there for one purpose. A cable was forwarded to me just a few minutes ago from the Kid. sir?” “What we told him to say.” “Thank you. Any additional cables will be forwarded to your office.” “Let’s go on scramble.” MI-6 officer Colonel Raymond Lampert quickly lit his pipe and lifted the Cphone receiver. colonel. sir?” “Yes. and peered into the room.
isn’t that what he rather is. sir. sir. sir. sir.” “Already? Good show. before he left?” “Up to more mischief.” “In any event.” Lampert hesitated.” “Certainly. as yet. mustering as much enthusiasm as he could.” “It is his office. now that you mention it. Did you receive the copy of the report I sent to the President?” “Yes. Do you know what he did. He seems gullible enough. About an hour ago.” Lampert said. while I have you on the line? How’s Operation Decoy coming along?” “Not a word. The end justifies the means.” “Let me know the minute you hear from your Portugal agent. colonel. I suppose he is. “Anything else. colonel.” “Yes. “Remember our goal.” “I have an update. It’s on. Lampert doodled on his foolscap pad.“Perhaps.” Taking a ballpoint pen.” 21 . “Wesley Hollinger. We’ve made the arrangements for the Atlantic meeting. Whoever would have believed it a few months ago? May the angels in heaven help us.” “Yes. sir. but—” “Never mind.” “We’ll let the bloke think he’s a hero. Stop Hitler. A hero?” “Yes. was he?” “He put NO SMOKING signs in his new office. sir.
“I think we just got our answer from Portugal.” Lampert said. “Sir.” “Of course.” he said into the Cphone. “Yes.“What about Camp Z?” “I’ll be out the door in minutes.” 22 .” “Fine. Get it over with now. a sealed envelope has just arrived from the code room. Lampert waved her over.” Lampert’s secretary knocked at the door. sir. “Just a minute. sir.” She showed the package to him. sir. Margaret?” “Colonel.
filled by hard-working fishermen during the less turbulent hours – in the morning. Then they ordered the whiskered fisherman on a north by northeast course. It was a rough ride. Sweating. to the edge of the water line and aboard the small boat. one of the men gripped the starboard rail and vomited over the side. I will. anyway?” “Orders. when the water was the calmest. the waves were choppy.” “Tell that to my stomach. across the creaky dock. heavy. The Firth of Forth was a windy waterway off the western slant of the North Sea. wooden crate. Three miles from shore. Scotland Two husky men struggled with the long. they hauled it from the motorcar. Chin up. Why do we have to go so damn far out?” “Still too shallow here. Who’s going to look out here. “Yeah.CHAPTER TWO Firth of Forth. midafternoon. We need to go another mile or more.” 23 . “Are you going to make it?” the other man asked. Now.
She sat on her desk. unforgiving water. And married. Kraut. The secrecy between huts. The stale food. Now she was 24 . The two passengers bent over the crate and picked it up. “So long. lapping a series of waves against the hull. A dignified clerk. and was a little under the weather. and a few minutes later killed the throttle. She was back. Jansen. For King and Country. Green. She told herself that she didn’t mind these last three weeks too much. Ellis. Scott.” the sick man said. six days a week. a young face under twenty-five stuck in with the “elite old farts. The crate bubbled and sank instantly.” The fisherman steered into the brisk northerly wind. Murphy. The twelve-hour shifts. a decade older than her. Then she set her tea down and thought for a moment. Boley. **** Bletchley Park. She had picked up a summer cold from somewhere. They were mostly innocent old men. She forgot how much she disliked the place the first time around. With grunts. She was a desk soldier at her post. they heaved it into the cold. She had slipped into the old routine at the Secret Service cipher school. And Lampert and the Prime Minister too. sipping her tea.” as Hollinger had often referred to them. England Langford removed her reading glasses and sniffed. laughing at her situation.“I’ll try.
the Ultra experts – the distributors of the traffic. With her reading glasses in place. Eighty-four for her eyes today. she leafed through the deciphered Enigma intercepts that had come through fairly steady from the Russian Front. Since choosing her profession. this. Although tedious. Like a game. The Russians couldn’t be trusted to keep the source 25 . Langford hardly looked back.here only temporarily. Different messages. she tried to tell herself. It was another part of the radio war that saw her organization processing over eight million enemy words every month. Different people. Not many women in Britain had a wartime job as interesting – at least on the surface – as hers. or toil on an assembly line. She didn’t have to drive an ambulance and pull mutilated bodies out of rubble. Roberta Langford flipped her shoes off and lit a Player’s cigarette. and the other branches of the service. Like a sabbatical. Next. the Navy. Stacked on her desk were the messages from the girls in the nearby Decoding Room hut. So far. she took pleasure in heading off the Nazi military and High Command dispatches. Enigma II had six of low priority. Not a bad job. It was different this time. waiting on her boss – Hollinger – to return to Great Britain in a few more days. Different hut. And fascinating. of which she was one – would take over and separate the correspondence for the Army. as her girlfriend had done during the dreadful London Blitz the past winter. She didn’t have to teach bratty kids. Alerting the Soviets and passing the German military codes on to them was forbidden.
and on the Atlantic U-boats. The Enigma orders in the deciphered messages spoke of lightning movements. the Sixteenth Army would push on tomorrow. To be sure. 26 . And the next day. major and minor sieges. 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. they would be knocking at Leningrad’s doors in a week. the German Wehrmacht forces had slashed deep into the Soviet Union. Some meteorological reports – six – had come through today. 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.secret. Screen and catalogue for the departments. They were getting severely whipped by superior German forces and their newfangled machinery. Langford shot a glance over her shoulder to a map of Russia she kept on the wall. Lake Ilmen was only 100 miles from Leningrad. in the north country. and glorious victories. the German Sixteenth Army had already reached the south side of Lake Ilmen. Roberta Langford would follow the directives. At the rate they were advancing. Every area encountered a new set of rules. They couldn’t do anything anyway. a prime objective for the Germans. And the next. Her job was to chaperone only. He’d be getting some dispatches today. Today. In the five weeks since their synchronized Operation Barbarossa ground and air attack. She nodded. without question.
The Germans changed letters weekly..” he said. Your Yank boss man. Caught you before the shift change. L for clear. “Ah. Stolen. except by phone or memo first. looking about. my dear.” She puffed on her cigarette.using single letters for various conditions.” 27 . A female voice answered. He had telephoned a few minutes before. I should think. This week . Spencer.” a male voice asked.” Langford looked over her glasses through brown. they had the codebooks for reference.” “Yes. She heard two people in the hall. deer-like eyes to see the freckled face and the thick round glasses of Spencer Winslow from the Enigma II Hut Nine. Blue tobacco smoke enclosed her like a fog. “I’m looking for Roberta Langford.” “Got a cable for you. . once broken. . Lucky for Bletchley. there you are. go on in. thank you. of course. Simple enough codes. What brings you here this hour of the day?” She sniffed.. “How’s the cold?” “Better.” “Thank you. keeping in mind that inter-office contact was forbidden. “And you are?” “Spencer Winslow. “You don’t say. . From Washington. K for cloud . “Hello. .
” “So. And it didn’t end there.” He slapped the sealed envelope in his hand. “Hut Nine. Churchill was the Big Guy. “Right you are.” “I don’t know what you see in that fellow. there’s other fish in the sea?” She laughed low and husky. What a way to run a war. Churchill was no better. She was Redhead.” “We’ve never even so much as gone out. we’ll lose for sure. The Prime Minister favored Former Naval Person for himself when communicating 28 . Langford knew. What a tease.” she told him. With this kind of incompetence. HEY REDHEAD. Falcon was the Deputy Fuehrer’s codename. SAY HELLO TO THE JUDGE. he conquered. WISH YOU WERE HERE. He left and she opened the cable.” She held out her pearl-smooth hand.” They smiled at each other. he saw. THE KID. Lampert was the Judge or Your Honor. The fast-talking American had a nickname for everybody. TOODELOO. “Don’t pull my leg. It made sense. shaking his head. Langford smiled at Hollinger’s silly humor.” “That’s simply terrible. for he thrived on his codenames. “Now I’ll take that. this exclusive club.“They delivered it to the wrong hut. if you don’t mind. Enigma II transmissions were recently christened the Falcon File. his old stomping grounds. He came.” “I don’t see anything. He felt comfortable now in his surroundings. MEETING POTUS FOR COFFEE. Then again.
He knew her status since Arthur had dropped her. He was a cocky young man. he was still trying. Although she always backed off. Love? Good Lord. Spencer Winslow had always enjoyed her company. Roosevelt used POTUS – President of the United States – whenever he cabled Churchill over the London-Washington Hotline. He was single. He definitely had a good side to him. Too dreary. Not the way she had been with Arthur. Nicknames and codenames were getting to be a habit in this line of work. and he had tried to move in on her a couple of times. Alex Nevin. What would they do when he returned? She still couldn’t quite see herself with Hollinger. He was also the one who came up with Operation Urge. the RAF fighter pilot from Liverpool. She tried to tell herself she was not in love with him. Suitors everywhere. Not with the man who hardly ever took things seriously. but rather nice at times. She was fond of Hollinger. But he wasn’t her type. although she was leaving the back door open all the same. Not to be left out. the bloke with the ego. But she was in no hurry. no! At least she didn’t think so. Neither was she steadfastly in love with her new friend. Hollinger’s “Mission of Persuasion” to Washington. Sometimes he was even honestly sincere.with Roosevelt. One of the few at Bletchley. when he wanted to be. Not really. She took a long pull of her cigarette and 29 . At least with Hollinger there was never a dull moment. She wondered how well Hollinger was performing on his trip to the White House. So many to pick from.
This was Camp Z. the sinister. in close formation.wondered what Lampert thought of the gutsy analyst now. She sniffed and wiped her nose with a tissue. It was another warm day in what was turning out to be one of the hottest summers on record. Put a mark on the wall. under close surveillance. very slowly. Inside the double-perimeter barbwire barricades were machine-gun posts. as well as colorful. The German was now referred to as Prisoner Z. Damn this cold! **** Farnborough. Three hundred feet up. two Spitfires from the nearby fighter base roared. Lampert checked in with the armed guard and drove ahead to the gravel parking space alongside the driveway. For two months. Only a handful would even guess he was an impostor. slittrenches dug into the lawns. eighteenth century Victorian mansion an hour’s drive out of London had housed Great Britain’s most notorious Nazi prisoner-of-war. Lampert could see the German prisoner walking the gardens this late afternoon. 30 . floodlights for night use. The Kid was briefing the President on the status of England. Most of the world knew him to be Nazi Germany’s Deputy Fuehrer Rudolf Hess. England Lampert steered his mud-covered Austin to the gate at Mytchett Place. full-throttle. unkempt gardens full of rhododendrons.
“Your identification. Lampert nodded at the sentry who stood opposite the caged-in room. and chipped furniture. month-old MI-6 title. So did the prisoner. Lampert climbed the squeaky oak staircase. Beside it was the sitting room on one side. one level up. The ex-British Army officer who had distinguished himself in the Great War had all the time in the world. At the top.Lampert raised his six-foot frame from the vehicle. A drunk? Mytchett Place could have passed for Dracula’s castle. Colonel Raymond Lampert went about his work today with a high degree of dignity. wooden floors. sir. as Executive Officer of Enigma Operations. 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.” 31 . The prisoner’s bedroom was on the first floor. he looked around. All the windows were closed. surrounded by a metal cage. When the armed entourage helped the prisoner into the building through the ground floor music room. lit his pipe and waited. although they knew the prisoner wouldn’t get too far in his current invalid condition. The mansion was surprisingly cool. he wondered who had done the decorating. his new. dark walls. it seemed. the colonel waited several more minutes. When he saw the cracked. Security was tighter now in Camp Z. then entered the gloomy front entrance of the badly-maintained estate. Everyone – inside and out – carried weapons at all times. the bathroom on the other.
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. He took it.” “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. next to a mahogany table. who are you? A doctor?” Prisoner Z asked in German-accented English. shut up! Don’t be such a ninny.” “Thank you. He looked up grimly. his eyes watery. They were expecting him. He had aged years.” “I’m sorry. one of the new faces. it seemed to Lampert. “Yes. I don’t know any Frank.” said Lampert. You’ve been up to no good.” “What do you want then?” “Let me be frank with you.” Lampert exploded. “No. And we want you to stop. Look here! We’ve been hearing some things about you. his left leg in a cast.“Of course. looked. and leaned onto the table. He was pitifully pale and hollow faced and still appeared to be in some agony from the fall in June. his voice shaky. “He’s in the sitting room. “Oh. in only months. Immediately. then returned it. dear boy?” 32 . colonel. Prisoner Z was seated in a wheelchair.” Lampert opened the door.
” Lampert waited. more .” Lampert continued.” Schubert hung his head. “I was hoping you were a doctor. . and we’ll go after your family in Germany if you do not cooperate. . his mouth hardening. “Rights! You listen to me. Herr Felix Schubert? Are you following me?’” Schubert’s face flushed red.” Lampert’s fist clenched. A flag of truce. “No .” “I’ll give you a worse headache if you dare to trifle with us. everything about you. 33 . this pigstyso the Duke of Hamilton can’t find me. isn’t it?” “Shut up! You are Rudolf Hess. . We know your name. Lampert got up. . What do you think of that. I’m kept in this . You know what I mean?” Then he vanished beyond the door. My rights are being violated under the rules of the Geneva Convention. “You know my name? How? It’s the drugs. his eyes on the German. including your real purpose in coming here two months ago. “Do you understand? Can I at least get a nod?” Schubert nodded twice. You will not play any more silly games. “I came to Britain in an unarmed plane. I have a headache. trouble. .The prisoner looked directly at Lampert. “Any more trouble from you and we’ll do away with your miserable life. the Deputy Fuehrer of Nazi Germany. You will not attempt any stupid suicides to gain attention. .
Wesley. Churchill’s 10 Downing Street was a dump by comparison. You might have to wait a few minutes.” Hollinger and Donovan thanked the man. who smiled his pleasure before disappearing through a side door. sir?” “Churchill didn’t send you. down long corridors. gentlemen. “Yes. “Have a seat.” “He did?” 34 . he and Donovan were steered by an aide up wide stairs. and past large furnished rooms. It was more like Roosevelt summoned you. To arrive at the Oval Office inside the one-hundredand-twenty-five-room White House.” Donovan said. The White House was better than Donovan’s description of it only minutes before. “I feel I should fill you in on something. they were ushered to a small reception area.CHAPTER THREE The White House Hollinger reveled in the once-in-a-lifetime moment like a six-year-old with a new toy. Finally.
” “Yes. “What kind of decision. What you’re made of. To put it simply. maybe. You have me convinced. OK. The reports he’s been getting from London are that you’re some playboy out for a good time. be yourself.” Hollinger fiddled nervously with the fedora in his hand.” “The President wants to see if you’re of use to us there.” “That’s ridiculous.” “Is that all?” “No. Where on earth did he get that idea?” “I dunno. “It is? I don’t get it. I can assure you that I’m not the wild man people say that I am. They both happened to occur at the same time. Churchill. Why me in the first place?” “Because you’ve already been briefed on the Hess mission.” “OK.” “Sir. sir?” “Either send you back to England or keep you here in some capacity. It could very well be based on how you handle yourself today. Remember. sir. But I still don’t get it.” Hollinger was surprised and disappointed.” 35 . The President has to come to a decision about you. 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. Just don’t be too defensive.“Yes. you’re available.
“What should I call you? The Kid or the Tyrant of Hut Nine?” Roosevelt then broke into thunderous laughter.” Hollinger smirked. 36 . fellah?” he said jovially. President. over-emphasizing one of the colonel’s nicknames. and hurried after Donovan through the door into the Oval Office.” Minutes later. in green tie and white shirt sleeves. The President was behind his desk. rugged American with the thick. superbly-cut suit and large diamond ring on his hand. “You mean I just happened to be in the right place at the right time. cigarette in mouth. “Wild Bill.” Donovan said. And he also had considerable experience with the breaking and decoding of the Japanese Purple code. “Swell.“Oh. President. the aide returned. “Mr. the young.” “So you’re the fellah who’s turned England upsidedown.” Hollinger thanked the aide again for the quick tour. “You may go in now. “this is Wesley Hollinger.” “Excellent.” “Exactly. one of our COI agents in England. Then the President’s strong eyes fell on Hollinger. wavy hair. eh? What name do you prefer to go by?” “Sir?” Hollinger gulped. Mr. He turned to greet Donovan first. Put er there!” Donovan set his briefcase at his feet and shook hands with the nation’s mighty commander-in-chief. He was instrumental in the breaking of the German Enigma II diplomatic code I had briefed you about. how goes it.
Hollinger relaxed and marveled at his commander-inchief. 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. the President was the Babe Ruth of American politics. Someone who Hollinger’s father would probably call a real Iron Ass.” “That’s quite all right. sir. he used cumbersome leg braces and crutches. 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. Wesley. 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 two.” “Sit down.” “You’ve made quite the impression over there. The newsreels did not show the bona fide Franklin Delano Roosevelt. As Hollinger perceived it. I should be used to it by now. strong shoulders and deep voice. sir. Roosevelt’s handshake was firm and warm. son. With his large upper chest. it was a shock for Hollinger to actually see the President’s metal companion beneath him.” 37 . “Sorry. wheelchair-bound for the last number of years. I couldn’t resist that. To walk. Still. Wesley? Coffee?” “Yes. Coffee sounds great. Coffee? I know you like yours black.” “Thank you. And you. FDR had been victimized by polio. Bill. Welcome to the White House.
The oil of Iraq and the Persian Gulf is a priority. “What else is new?” he said. Britain will go belly-up. Roosevelt smiled. Hollinger had been forewarned – the President would be blunt. sir.” “Does he?” “Yes. with little effort. “It’s nice to drink a good cup of coffee again. We know that keen communications and updated intelligence operations are the keys to winning a modern war. Churchill wants more aid. and lit a new one for his holder. sure. “How’s the shoulder injury. son?” “A little touchy sometimes. “The situation is grave. Ships. But he believes a Channel invasion is still coming. sir. However.” The President listened with modest concern. He folded his arms. mister. . the British don’t scare easily. Winston Churchill. then added cream and sugar to the mug given him. So . paperfilled desk and poured for the two men as they took up chairs. Without oil. But they are in no condition to stop Hitler by them38 . Rommel has his eye on the fields. Hollinger set his fedora on his arm rest. Planes. The wheelchair creaked. “The Brits have cracked the German codes. . forthwith. He also seemed as haughty as his overseas counterpart. crushed his cigarette in a desk ashtray.Roosevelt took the silver pot on his messy. Churchill doesn’t plan to throw in the towel. can England hold out?” the President barked.” “So.” Hollinger said. Thanks for asking. sir. casually.
” 39 . “I think he’s giving it to us straight.” Roosevelt nodded. “But are we prepared for war?” His tone indicated that he already knew the answer. They barely scraped through the Battle of Britain. in the not too distant future. “Wesley. You must be well-enough versed on England’s readiness. “In detail.” He glanced at Donovan.” Roosevelt threw his head back.” “What do you think of this. He sensed the President was toying with them. the appeasers would have taken over by now. Hollinger paused to study Donovan. Churchill was nearly overthrown by parliament two months ago. you’re getting around. You’ve spoken to Churchill. “No more than the British were in ’39.” “Ours?” “Maybe. They can’t win with Enigma and radar alone. Bill. Not after. I agree with Wesley. we might have to eventually. sir. Before England falls.” “True. As you may know.selves. “With all due respect. They need some muscle. Radar saved them. In person.” “If that had happened. Wesley?” Roosevelt thundered. cigarette in his mouth. 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.” Roosevelt turned again to Hollinger. I understand. knowing the ropes.” “Are you saying we should get into this war. “We were well aware of it.
” “No. Three times. The ban of further gas and iron ore shipments to their island.” “Hitler is only one problem. FDR was a blunt man. Hollinger looked uncomfortably around the office for several moments of silence. sir.” the President said slowly.” “Doesn’t sound too healthy. The oil contracts on hold. sir. It doesn’t. Hollinger gave a heady explanation of what appeared to be two sets of peace proposals.“Yes. “That’s why I’m here. They want to negotiate. And he jumped from subject to subject. Roosevelt had a peculiar way of reading.” Donovan dug into his briefcase and handed Roosevelt several mimeographed sheets that had made their way across the Atlantic in Hollinger’s briefcase. 40 . Some people feel Britain will lose the war. Hess incident?” Hollinger cleared his throat. Somehow. before the President picked up more of the details on his own.” “What’s his upcoming strategy?” “Survive till the end of the year. the freezing of assets across the board.” “Lay it on me. twisting the sheets at different angles. sir. What about this . .” “Yes. “What about the Japanese? You’ve heard the latest. Hitler’s and Hess’s. The way I prefer it. young man. With the tar on. The next topic. Yes. . while his leader digested as much of the information as he could.
” “Yes. sir.The President broke the silence after two minutes. sir. “Are these direct copies of a German type?” Hollinger nodded. sir. glancing over his reading glasses at Hollinger.” Silently. that’s correct. sir.” “Yes. “Do you believe it?” “Yes. sir. therefore we think they’re from Hess’s actual typewriter. We have no reason not to. that is.” Roosevelt rubbed his face with a hand. “There’s a few spelling and punctuation errors. sir. Maybe by his own hand. “I guess he does now. But scary. five hundred miles per hour. Prior to the attack in June. That’s astonishing!” “Still years away.” “Yes. He sure does. just the same.” “I see. “Hess claims the Germans have atomic weapons. and rockets. So he did bring them. I didn’t expect them to be that well along.” “The battle plans for the attack of Russia.” Hollinger confirmed. Three times the speed of sound.” “And the result?” “Stalin didn’t believe the British. “Yes.” The President laughed. “Concentration camps?” 41 . the American leader read more.” “Says here he was seeking asylum?” the President asked. Churchill’s men supposedly informed the Russian Embassy in Great Britain. Jet aircraft. The Fuehrer. And Hitler let him go. Only Hitler thought Hess was representing him.
“Yes. But. “Classic case of the inmates running the prison. “The Germans are methodical people.” the President answered.” The President’s face went pale. Along with their version of genetic breeding. Hollinger was not accustomed to drinking before eleven in the morning. Roosevelt buzzed the intercom for his valet. Hollinger wanted to say. sir.” “Atta. boy. I hope so. Coffee isn’t strong enough this morning. both slowly grinning. they are being converted over to what Hess described as—” “Internment camps. That is to enslave and to kill. They go by several names. his voice rising. Auschwitz and Dachau have been around for a few years to house political prisoners and Jews.” the President said. Two of note. Mr. sir. “Have these reports been verified?” “Yes.” “That’s correct. sir. President.” The President seemed to deflate by the second. What do you say to a martini? You game. Now. Most of this is still in the planning stages. who 42 . perking up. beneath the fancy words they have one purpose. I’m going to like you. execution sites. Wesley?” “I’ll try anything once.” The President inhaled noisily. Some master Aryan race. sir. “In other words. MI-6 agents have confirmed everything as true. He and Donovan eyed each other. “We don’t know that yet. What’s their method of execution?” His voice seemed weak.
Donovan knew what he was talking about. “So do we.” Hollinger said. “The one billion booty seemed legit.” Roosevelt beamed. British agents in Switzerland checked it out. holding his drink up. “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. sir. “Himmler? What does he have to do with this?” He paused to read. MI-6 tried to access it.” Donovan and Hollinger glanced at each other. “Thank you.brought with him all the ingredients on a roll-out. Hollinger was sold. then left. The money was only the beginning of 43 . but came up short when they discovered Himmler had placed a secret codename to it. The presidential martinis were great. “There was another set of proposals found. “I’ve yet to taste a martini anywhere quite this good. I take pride in my bartending. But now we know it was a lie to entice the appeasers. There’s no more than the equivalent of fifteen million dollars after the exchange – at most – in the account. The President enjoyed doctoring up the exact amounts of gin and vermouth. “Sir. Here they are.” Hollinger confirmed.” “Another set?” “Yes. President.” “That’s not all with Hess. On his first taste.” Roosevelt buried his attention in the mimeographed copies handed to him from Donovan’s briefcase. at first. topped with a strip of lemon. Wesley. sir. Mr.” Donovan said.
Part of the pact would see Himmler take over as the new Fuehrer.” Hollinger said.” “Who else knows?” “Only a handful.” 44 . sir. “’Fraid so. With new experimental truth drugs.” The President was mortified. to present a peace deal with the British. We think he had schemed to kill Hess in mid-flight. He had a plot of his own.” “How long will the British keep this a secret?” “With the real Hess dead. and send a man over by sub instead.Himmler’s participation in the Hess flight. In case the line was tapped by the enemy. only—” “Hold on here.” “What!” “A Hess look-a-like. “Himmler? That’s incredible. What do you mean he shot Hess dead? Who the hell is behind bars in England?” “Sir.” “No wonder the British are so tight-lipped about it. “Good Lord! Are you serious? An impostor?” Hollinger nodded.” The President raised an eyebrow. “The man the Limeys have in custody is an impostor.” “But something went wrong. Himmler’s man shot Hess dead. they’ve discovered his name is Felix Schubert. boy.” “Churchill couldn’t tell you the truth. using Hess’s aircraft. over the wire. then attempted to fly out of Scotland for Ireland. we might have to take it to our graves. Hess escaped the net and flew his way to Scotland the same time Himmler’s man arrived by sub.
us three. glancing at Donovan. The impostor. then. MI-5 don’t and will not know. sir. . enough to fool those who had never met him face to face. Stalin is suspicious. bringing the martini to his lips and swallowing.” Roosevelt said. photographs. What do you know? You saw this man. Neither will the Special Operations Branch of MI-6. He’ll play along if he knows it’s his only way to stay alive. unauthorized interviews are forbidden. meanwhile. It’s a desperate situation. Churchill has made it clear that no one in England who knew Hess before the war will see the prisoner.” “Oh. he was the one who shot me. “It might look that way to him.” A hush swept over the three men.” 45 .” “I see. “An impostor. But that’s not the case. “The likeness is pretty fair. Hitler’s broadcasts said Hess was crazy.” Hollinger continued. “I saw both him and the real Hess up close. President.” Hollinger shook his head. as the Brits say. He . . did you?” “Yes. is under heavy guard in a castle fifty miles southwest of London. Hallucinating. Movies. a few feet apart. He’s convinced that Germany and England are plotting against him. Churchill.” Roosevelt grinned. a few members of MI-6. “Since the news of his flight. It’s labeled Most Secret. Mr. was the word.” “Only a few choice people know.“It’s a massive cover-up.
They have me by the short hairs. I’d be impeached by now. If the truth were known about how we were secretly aiding Britain. Not enough to send American boys over. We share secrets. Tell Churchill that and I will too. “I hope it won’t be too late. Not me.” Hollinger said. England – Churchill in particular – needs this administration. sir. you’re already privy to some sensitive information. But damn it.’’ Roosevelt nodded with a fluid firmness. he was headed back to Great Britain. Even though we’re already in it more than most Americans realize. it’s quite safe to tell you a story. when I see him. one of these times. “we’ll get into it. Another administration in the White House would have passed England off as lost. You’ve been a witness to some of this at Bletchley Park. Perhaps. one that Wild Bill knows well.” Hollinger felt at ease in his heart. One reason only.” “I will. a pride in his voice. We’re neutral and we don’t want to abuse the neutrality laws. “Wesley. We see eye to eye. 46 . I can’t afford to bring a divided nation into this. I decided to go for my third term of office last year for one reason.Roosevelt sat up. see I told you. There’s been a direct channel between us for two years. Tell the Prime Minister that. My situation is critical. Only Congress can declare war.” Donovan looked over at Hollinger as if to say. for England’s sake. Therefore. clenching the cigarette holder in his mouth. “On the whole our country isn’t behind England. How and when is the question.
He only had to wait ten minutes to find out the verdict. If it was all the same to him.” Donovan stood beside Hollinger.” the President ordered. comfortable chair. Wesley Hollinger.” “This has been a most enlightening morning. one of Wild Bill’s sidekicks. This is it?” Roosevelt waved the papers in his hand. you two. “Yes. And another chance with Roberta Langford. “so we can talk behind your back. raising a finger. “How do we know that the British aren’t holding anything back?” Hollinger had been considering that for weeks. sir. the briefing at an end.” Hollinger stood and crossed into the reception area and sat down in a wide. Thanks for coming. “Wesley.” “Yes. smiling.“Me too. “Return to England. 47 . Donovan called him back to face the President. they aren’t. Have a safe trip back. Him.” Roosevelt returned the papers to Donovan. won’t you. His future was being discussed in the Oval Office. Wesley. Wesley. he’d vote to gladly remain in England.” Hollinger was relieved. I want somebody who can sink their teeth into the situation there.” Roosevelt said firmly. “To my knowledge. that’s all they gave me. boy. Report directly to Colonel Donovan. Keep a low profile. Then again. “Shocking.” “Leave the room for a moment. sir. but your eyes and ears should be open for anything that might concern us as Americans first.
forget I said it. our little talk in the car about the war is not to be repeated to anyone. “What talk?” “Good boy. and God speed. Hollinger. you’ll go far in the COI. Walking down a hall. sir.” The President appreciated the remark.” 48 .“Thank you. my boy. They were ruthless with their opponents.” Hollinger replied. And they could drink at any hour. “Good luck.” Filing out in step with Donovan. the both of them. “By the way. Iron Asses. They knew which end was up. and in a low voice said. Any day. “And a special thanks for the refreshments. looking up from his wheelchair. In fact. grabbing his fedora off the arm rest. in a democratic sense. Hollinger came to some quick conclusions. Donovan turned to Hollinger.” Hollinger cleared his throat. FDR and Churchill had a lot in common. He was won over.
His powerful binoculars would have to do the rest. either a pistol 49 . were detailed to guard the famous prisoner. Run exclusively by MI-6. he drove on with extreme caution. He’d stick to what the anonymous telephone caller had whispered to him. He couldn’t go any further. one from the Coldstream Guards. The grounds were also fortified against German Commando raids. so Jordan’s contact said. Every soldier was outfitted with a firearm. He saw the red-brick mansion through the trees. He would have to stop his car a good mile back and take the rest of the way on foot. So this was Camp Z. the other from the Scots Guards. The anonymous caller had warned him of that. squatting down as he came to the edge of a clearing. He left the car and worked his way through the thicket called Windsor Forest. Two detachments.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.
The howling engine of an overhead banking fighter suddenly drowned out every noise for a few seconds. thirty feet off to the right. The man on the phone was right for the umpteenth time. Disappointed. then a guard assisted him into the mansion. The prisoner was out in the yard for only ten minutes. Jordan had heard of the prisoner’s accident. A few had both. A man in dark clothing emerged. not to be heard. The prisoner’s upper leg was in a cast. making a slow. Jordan flipped his darkrimmed glasses up into his hair and with the binoculars to his eyes. the back door swung open. The German did look like Adolf Hitler’s deputy. Jordan was told. So watch it. 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. Jordan shook his head. An armed soldier appeared. The soldier walked along the 50 . It was too far. He couldn’t tell conclusively.or a machine gun. Jordan started to climb down. It didn’t matter. he zeroed in on the prisoner’s face. Then he stopped cold. Jordan pulled his hand out of the foliage. slowly. The prisoner was closer now. unsteady turn of the property in one corner. After an hour. two guards propping him up. It would have been easier to tell had he not sustained the injury because Rudolf Hess had a distinct walk. Jordan waited. It was plain to see from a few hundred feet away. Four men were inside the barbwire barricade.
” “Let’s push off. “Whew. nearly gagging him. A hissing. And he’d have a lot of explaining to do. Jordan clutched the trunk with one hand.” The soldiers walked away into the clearing. Then Jordan heard a strange noise. Before the tea gets cold.clearing and stationed himself immediately under the tree. another soldier stepped forward.” **** 51 . his binoculars with the other. Come along. The soldiers heard it. and brought their firearms up. “Birds. Pissing right under the tree! The strong smell of urine drifted up to Jordan. It was very quiet now. Blasted! The soldier was relieving himself in the weeds. The sound of the fighter was gone. Tea time. stopped. He closed his eyes and said a silent prayer. Jordan held his breath. his Bren-gun by his side. “What was that?” They ran for the forest.” one guard sighed out loud. The guards stopped short. We’re getting paranoid. Jordan moved his foot. When the guard finished up. “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. All the soldier had to do was look up and Jordan was cooked.
HE BROUGHT PHOTOGRAPHS TO ESTABLISH HIS IDENTITY. NAZI LEADER FLIES TO SCOTLAND. and the account from the ploughman who had captured Hess. Jordan checked one such rumor out by asking someone he knew personally. However. Jordan poured over the crisp clipping which included the government’s official statement. Ivone Kirkpatrick. Kirkpatrick had since denied he ever said such a thing. 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 . a man named David McLean. HERR HESS. At the time. Jordan slapped the paper down. a simple nobody who had become famous overnight by pure accident.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. RUDOLF HESS IN GLASGOW OFFICIAL. HITLER’S RIGHT-HAND MAN HAS RUN AWAY FROM GERMANY AND IS IN GLASGOW SUFFERING FROM A BROKEN ANKLE. Back in May. 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. Kirkpatrick told Jordan that he felt that the prisoner looked different than the Hess he had known in Berlin. the BBC executive who made the official government identification of the pilot with the Duke of Hamilton. and removed his glasses to rub his eyes.
But no newspapers or wireless. recreation were to be provided. Permanent Under Secretary at the Foreign Office. One was an official government document with a significant first line. He was responsible for the health and comfort of Prisoner Z. Any visitors had to be authorized and signed for with paperwork by Alexander Cadogan. The anonymous person knew a lot. how to get there. and even some little tidbits 53 . 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. The second letter was one such signed and stamped verification. Only the name had to be filled in to be valid. what to watch out for and the dangers along the way. Then came yesterday’s anonymous phone call. MOST SECRET.1. It instructed a certain unnamed person to proceed to a place called Camp Z at 1200 hours on Sunday. The editor of the London Times was one of those kept at length. Food. writing materials. The location of the camp and the person’s duties were described in detail.It seemed anyone who knew Hess on sight wasn’t allowed to visit him. books. And he probably wanted to stay anonymous. with the genuine Foreign Office stamp. Four letters to him on newspaper office stationery had gone unanswered. No contact with the outside world. Jordan had a flood of questions. OPERATION ORDER NO. May 18. And two letters later left in his mailbox. And the steel magnate Simon Brenwood – Churchill’s fiercest opponent – refused to talk.
Something – no! – a lot. Jordan had to laugh. from an upper middle-class background. wiser. like the rest of England had settled to doing. He sat hunched at the table. For instance. A bright-eyed idealist who sought the truth. Ilse. Hess was supposed to be a vegetarian. He was courteous. A precious few. Fine woman. Some people in London knew the truth. Only a few years older. And he was rude. and a hell of a lot smarter. even under the cloud of military secrecy and the stiff censorship inflicted on newspapers during the war. Jordan even took a turn with the Deputy Fuehrer on his beautifully-manicured property. or perhaps Churchill was part 54 . Proud. of course. stiff. like her husband. Some close to Churchill. He was still an idealist. He had met and chatted with his wife. Jordan could forget the whole Hess thing. Barely twenty. elbows spread out. He had spent some casual time with Hess at his home outside Munich in 1936. Jordan saw it for himself five years ago in Germany. But for Jordan. Jordan remembered how Rudolf Hess walked. So inexperienced. the prisoner’s eating habits and table manners were atrocious. obnoxious. Not rude. He was a newsman who still felt compelled to find and report the facts. didn’t fit. His first year on the job. upright. thank you very much. and often wolfed them down. Intelligent. He lunched with him.about the man behind bars. forgetting it was not an option. somewhat dimwitted. Vegetable dishes. Jordan didn’t miss the clues. He was so young then. He especially enjoyed beef and chicken dishes.
But if we fail. . For the hundredth time today Jordan contemplated what had been driving him mad for weeks. year to year. . men will say. made more sinister and perhaps more protracted by the lights of perverted science. the whole world. ‘This was their finest hour. 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. 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. Ancient history in this war. 55 . But that was last year. where strategy was changing significantly from month to month. In 1940. all Europe may be free and the life of the world may move forward into broad sunlit uplands. including all that we have known and cared for. will sink into the abyss of a New Dark Age. including the United States. If we can stand up to him.’” It had been over a year since Churchill’s “Finest Hour” radio broadcast had inspired the free world. Maybe his whole damn cabinet knew.of it too. Was this man imprisoned at Camp Z Nazi Germany’s Deputy Fuehrer Rudolf Hess or . The powerful speech – still talked about in the free world – had helped to carry Great Britain through the Blitz and the Battle of Britain.
Appeasers feared him. Communication tubes. meaningless 56 . a cabinet room. he had the gall to exile the figurehead of the appeaser group. to the Bahamas to act as Governor. Churchill a virtual dictator. By the summer of 1941. lined the walls and whistled as messages were sent from one department to another.” Designed to house 2. a power station. In these surroundings stood a map room. the leader of the “British Peace Party” to Washington as Ambassador to the United States. wires. military officers. and pipes. strong-willed. and the Prime Minister’s office. the Duke of Windsor. lit by candles in lanterns. Prime Minister Winston Spencer Churchill continued to conduct the affairs of his country at war with Adolf Hitler’s Nazi Germany. Insiders called it “The Hole in the Ground.The voice behind that mighty radio broadcast puffed furiously on his thick Havana cigar this afternoon. In private.000 people. a radio station. Connecting dungeon-like rooms were ugly and damp. who had his own agenda for ruling by decree. a dull. Here. with exposed timbers. powered by compressed air. the Hole was the nerve center of the English war effort. He had banished Lord Halifax. and newsmen were labeling the plump. No wonder. one member of Parliament went so far as to say that the only way to fight Hitler was with another Hitler. in the midst of musty smells. politicians. Soon after. hunched over the end of the conference table in the underground War Room one hundred feet below Whitehall and his Downing Street residence. braces.
many wondered what he could do to others of lesser note. such as House of Commons back-benchers who didn’t toe the line. Strang. But Hitler’s forces cut through them like a knife through butter. Over his cigar. Enemy U-Boat strength had picked up. dearly. At his desk. with barely a fight. Simon Brenwood. arrested. Churchill read a few copies of the Enigma intercepts – meteorological reports and 57 . Great Britain had little left of her armed forces. more Allied cargo ships were being torpedoed to the murky Atlantic bottom.assignment for the man who had secretly supported Hitler all along. The Wehrmacht continued to goose-step across the Russian Plains. He couldn’t continue to fight a war on just words. O’Malley. Rommel – the Desert Fox – still had his way with the demoralized British forces. Butler. and he’d be the first to acknowledge it to close friends. Brenwood. Since Dunkirk. The Duke of Hamilton. across from the large-scale map of Europe. Oliver. at least. They paid for it. And Churchill had Halifax’s successor. The French had the strongest Army in the world – on paper. If the Prime Minister could take care of such VIP’s. Since the Hess flight. leaving England in such a desperate state. As a result. the sixty-six-year-old War Lord was in a surly mood. It still bothered Churchill how France had capitulated so easily in 1940. few had been testing him now that the high-level Fifth Columnists were brought under control and were behaving. He was losing the war. All because the fools didn’t believe in the danger of air power.
the time. with regret. Each message indicated the frequency. Churchill had to let the raid go on.Hermann Goering’s orders to his Luftwaffe fighter and dive-bomber leaders on the Russian Front. France. running a country during a war. where the black pins and red strings identified the boundaries of the Axis Empire. Churchill did not enjoy playing God. An ever-expanding portion of western Russia. they were on the standard eight-by-ten inch sheets. Frightening stuff. in the overall war picture. It reminded him of the Blitz last November 14 when Bletchley had intercepted four hours in advance the next German bombing target. Estonia. knowing that more lives would be saved in the long run. Austria. Lithuania. Spain and Portugal – were the only untouched countries on the continent. flying the Swastika. All under the shiny Nazi jackboot. Most of North Africa was Irwin Rommel’s domain. But if he had done that the Germans would have known their Enigma code had been broken. He turned around to the map of Europe. 58 . Terrible business. Poland. Today’s intercepts spoke of a thrust to Leningrad. Sent over from Colonel Lampert’s office. Norway. The four neutrals – Sweden. Switzerland. the date. The Germans were unbeatable. Czechoslovakia. not to mention the guts of the message. Hungary. that evening! Churchill could have called for an evacuation of the city to save lives. Latvia. the call-signs of the receiver and the sender. It was to be Coventry. Churchill found it alarming to know so much.
we’ve increased the drug dosage in his food. I did. sir. sir. “Close the door. Find a chair. “Don’t we all? What about that little problem?” “I read him the riot act. a mere twenty miles as the crow flies across the Channel from occupied France. older.” “Jolly good. Libya. the two men had discussed Prisoner Z’s future should the British be victorious over Germany and should the impostor go to trial.” 59 . And a chunk of Egypt. Colonel Lampert. had arrived for the weekly in-person MI-6 progress report. Twenty miles from annihilation. Churchill peered over the rims of his half-moon reading glasses.” Lampert answered.Algeria. “He snores. “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. Great Britain stood off to one side. isolated.” “Thank you. sir. The door handle rattled.” “How’s our lame man?” Churchill grunted. To start with. Even lost my temper with him. colonel.” “Yes. his voice sturdy. grayer. and heavier of late. one of those in the inner circle. Churchill laughed. Do everything you can to safeguard him against any further incidents. He’ll cooperate.” “It’s imperative that he does. The other things?” A week before.
” “Jordan? From the Daily Telegraph?” “You know him?” “Yes. A good forger will do the job for us. sir.” “Well?” “We found some pre-war notes in our files in Hess’s handwriting. What’s her name?” “Ilse. “Come for your afternoon spot of tea. sir?” “I ran out. With shaky hands. One of those old Anglo-German Fellowship Association clods. he unscrewed the cap and poured until the glasses nearly spilled over. have you?” “Yes. A newsman.” “Who is he?” Churchill dug for the sheet. Churchill licked his lips. Covered the Berlin Olympics in ‘36 60 .” Churchill found the brandy bottle and two glasses in a side cabinet. His third written plea to me to see him. I have a letter right here. sir. “There’s people who want to interview the prisoner.” They sat around the table and drank.“The handwriting? He’ll have to start writing to Hess’s wife soon. “To the war effort. “Bottoms up.” “Brandy?” “I’d be delighted.” Churchill smiled. you know. But no whiskey and soda. “Stephen Jordan.” Lampert took his generous portion. An excellent offer that is fitting for the moment.
Use the Hess papers to their benefit. What did he say?” “It seems the trap’s been laid.” “Oh. Kenneth Sims. not a bleeding thing. I’ll just ignore them. Switzerland is always our best source.” Churchill bit the Havana cigar between his teeth. filled it with some bricks.” “I don’t like that. the information. Alienate Himmler from the rest of those gutter rats. Anything else for me?” “Our man in Portugal. yes. They put it in a crate. Saturn.” 61 . Schmidt.” “I’m glad of that. two of our men had it taken out of the ground. And he knows the Duke of Hamilton quite well. and dumped it a few miles into the Firth of Forth. “Did you do what was necessary to Hess’s body?” “Yesterday. “Operation Decoy. sir. He hoped this idea would bear fruit. I suppose.” “Is that so? Chances are he might have met the real Hess in Germany. Deliver the first blow. Our agents have their ears open for any information coming through our listening posts in the neutral countries. yes.” “It’s highly possible.” “Out of sight. sir. Then the German took a Lufthansa flight to Berlin early this afternoon.for the Telegraph.’’ Churchill nodded. out of mind.” “You think he’s heading straight to Himmler?” “Could be. Buried at sea. after Sims gave the Gestapo man. cabled Headquarters this morning. For the first day or so.
I want you to know that Hitler has given us an eleventhhour peace offer. Quite the lad. As long as he told Roosevelt what we briefed him on. for a promise of a free hand in Russia. “Lucky. “He did! What offer is that?” “Yesterday. a top secret communiqué came through our Embassy in Switzerland from the German Embassy. “Incidentally. Hollinger and Donovan gave Roosevelt both barrels.“Precisely. The President got the good word – the Hess proposals and the impostor information. They’re waiting on my reply. concessions.” “Don’t remind me. .” Churchill cleared the bile in his throat. “A cable came through yesterday.” “You think Hollinger knows the score? Remember how the sneak outsmarted us with the Hess flight.” “Have you heard from the Kid?” Churchill grinned for the first time.” “There’s no sign of a Channel invasion. . his jaw thrust out.” “What’s in the offing?” “If England signs a negotiated peace to end the war. That’s what really counts.” “It doesn’t matter. certainly not since the attack on Russia. young Wesley. He must see that.” Churchill said. are they?” 62 .” Lampert’s eyes bulged. more than anything. above and beyond his original proposals in Hess’s papers. The two ambassadors are the only ones briefed. Hitler said he is willing to give up some . colonel.” “Sizable concessions.
colonel. of course. If Hitler is willing to deal.” “If Hitler’s willing to make concessions – whatever they are – for Russia. The colonel was one man who would dare to speak his mind. that I don’t wish to elaborate on.” the Prime Minister said. then don’t you think we should negotiate with him?” “If Rommel reaches the oil fields.” Churchill considered Lampert’s opinion. We’ll grind to a halt. But I don’t necessarily have to follow it through. Remember what happened to Napoleon.“Let’s say.” Churchill cut Lampert short. 63 . “We’ll see if Hitler pays heed to history. Forget the whole thing as if it never happened! I’m not even going to discuss it with my cabinet.” “May I make a suggestion. The winter spoiled his plans for conquest. Germany will set the world price of oil. this can’t be leaked out to anybody. sir?” “By all means. previously-occupied territory. I will tell our Ambassador to kindly inform the German Ambassador to go shit in his hat. Churchill’s understanding. Churchill didn’t object to men in the tight Whitehall circle doing that providing they eventually came to an understanding. “it doesn’t leave us in a bargaining position. The Prime Minister detested yes men. he just may burn himself out on the Russian Front.” “You don’t say? Is he serious?” “That’s not the point! Serious or not. What kind of peace will that be?” “I’m merely thinking of a temporary truce.
providing there’s some shred of truth to it. Our Lend-Lease could come to an 64 . There will be no Vichy-type government in England. The Americans. School mates. “We are on some dangerous ground. . Say . like any soldier worth his salt. I told you. He wants the oil. sir.“We can always try testing him and come back with a clause of our own. lying to. Donovan is under our wing and he’s close to the President.” “Nonsense! He won’t. “Just some stretching of the truth. . “Speaking of Russia.” Churchill didn’t mind Lampert’s honesty. . What if they should discover we’ve been pulling their legs? It would cause a row in their papers. As far as Hollinger knows. will require some coaxing.” Lampert caved in. you don’t suppose the President asked Hollinger if we had notified the Russians about Operation Barbarossa?” “I rather suspect he did. “Peace with Hitler” was a dirty phrase in Churchill’s presence. He’s a monster. we did too. on the other hand. Hitler has to give up North Africa too. They believe anything we tell them. He knew better than to press. And not to be trusted.” “You mean some . We got the Russians into this war by sitting on our rumps and doing absolutely nothing to help them. Obey blindly.” Lampert shook his head. What did Roosevelt call him? My Secret Legs. Between friends. Prime Minister. the issue is dead. Mr. . despite the gloomy possibility of total defeat.
I will have to convince Roosevelt in our meeting that the fate of the world lies in his hands.end. And he has to know it. Donovan’s man arrived exactly on the hour. if the Jewish camps and the German technology doesn’t do it.” The Prime Minister laughed.” Lampert nodded again. She knew him simply as Smith. She always had to view the street. The consequences could be worse than what we’re facing now. sir. Aris trotted her way through the light rain to the restaurant within walking distance of her bank. “As you wish.” “They won’t find out. Americans like that sort of thing. “My God. Just in case he finds out what’s really going on. “One other thing.” “The President is holding all the cards.” “Yes.” “I want you to keep an eye on Hollinger.” The colonel knew that watching Hollinger’s every move was easier said than done. what will?” “I have to wonder. Good thing she had reserved. for it was busy early today. **** New York City At 11:40. As usual. she was given a window table. We’ll just help him along.” Lampert nodded. closed umbrella in hand. Good for their ego. colonel. He 65 .
” Smith leaned forward.” the man said to the attractive. How could I bring anything with me? Fold it up? Even the slightest crease or fold in one of those papers. the colonel is very interested in anything to do with I.” she replied.” She looked around.S. He’d know when something’s missing. don’t you?” Smith nodded. for us to read it. and I’d be a suspect. in his twenties. Mrs. remember. “An invisible liquid of some sort. not saying a word to her until they started on some hot coffee delivered by a cheery waitress. dark-haired thirty-five-year old woman of Greek descent.” “Don’t I know it. “Yeah. Mr. “Mr. Bill. He sat down and smiled. Lowering his voice he said. then the 66 . getting along?” “Swamped.” “Did you bring any of the sheets with you?” “Of course not. “Why not?” “I couldn’t chance it. Filberg.” He was surprised.” “With what’s happening over in Europe. Once we do that.” “You think it’s invisible ink. I guess you’re right.was younger than her. a sugar mixture. He pulled out a cigarette and lit it. I did. That’s why I called him. He’s in his vault every day. “Hello again. we’d have to either heat it or dip it into solutions.” Smith sighed. Trouble is. Palini. “How’s my old boss. Bill tells me you came across a file on Filberg.” “He’s right. “You don’t know Chapman. colorless vegetable juice. Could be milk. “Call me Aris.
We can’t put the papers back in the file like that. “The next occasion that Chapman leaves. the ones used in a photo darkroom.” “Thank you. If that’s the case. “Chances are that might be the case here.” 67 .” “When?” Smith asked. Aris sipped her steaming mug of coffee. I wonder what’s coming off? Anyway.” Smith smiled wide.S.” “Unless it’s read through a filter. you would.” He shrugged.” “No. Filberg. maybe he reads it through a filter.” “Yes.writing stays visible. the huge German munitions conglomerate. But I have to get into your bank to see the file. At the same time. we’re laughing.” “I’ll wait for your call. He’d have to access the material every so often.” “What kind of filter?” “Could be a common red safety type. good work. Put ourselves in Chapman’s shoes. you’re not supposed to read it. we can’t. So. “What’s so amusing?” “Quite the coincidence that your bank – a red-blooded American bank – has a file on I.
” answered the alert male adjutant in earnest.” “I understand. No one of consequence could be spared.CHAPTER FIVE Gestapo Headquarters. Spoke with adjutant concerning Schmidt. regardless of who else is in the appointment slot. Herr Reichsfuehrer. The last ten weeks. “Has Hans Schmidt arrived yet?” “No. Reichsfuehrer-SS Heinrich Himmler had been methodical in his approach to the Hess case. Herr Reichsfuehrer. Heads would have to roll. Berlin – August 1 Heinrich Himmler pressed the silver-framed pincenez to the bridge of his nose and punched his intercom button firmly.” Himmler wrote in his date book: 16:45. Response would have to be swift.” “When he does. he hasn’t. 68 . “Yawohl. That was enough for Hitler to seek revenge and retribution. I want to see him at once. Herr Reichsfuehrer. The Fuehrer said that Hess had intended to hand the British the plans for Operation Barbarossa.
the therapists – who had treated him. Their associates. The dreamy idiot. 69 . Professor-General Karl Haushofer. It didn’t matter now. Hess’s wife remained unscathed. All were interrogated. the doctors. He was still in custody. Number 16. With a stroke of his gold pen. X.. He was Number 15 on the list.. Their friends. So were many of their friends and associates. tucked away in prison writing sonnets to amuse himself. drilled. Most had been released by now. X.. The homosexual. for it was he who would carry out Hitler’s decrees in the form of national emergencies.That pleased Himmler. They were promptly arrested. Himmler had drawn up a numbered list and marked X’s beside each name. He wondered if she knew of her husband’s guarded background. Albrecht Haushofer was one of the first put out of circulation. the former chicken farmer had stretched his tentacles and systematically directed the fate of the Deputy Fuehrer’s medical and physiological doctors – the mediums. the homosexual ring he belonged to in Munich. the renowned father of Geopolitics. was brought in. So were their assistants.. And the astrologers Hess had kept strange company with. He was the true law of the land who held the power of life and death over Germany and her conquered territories. Albrecht’s father.. Himmler took to the new assignment with his usual structured energy and terror. Or did it? X. then freed. under Himmler’s watchful eye..
Himmler wished he could have arrested the entire Augsburg personnel too. For now. Without a trace. once the news broke of the Hess 70 . . Felix Schubert’s family were wiped out secretly on May 13. soon. by the Fuehrer’s orders. But a little scare wouldn’t hurt. Himmler promised himself that he would get Bormann . Then he’d vanish. It was Bormann’s idea to officially announce Hess’s assumed mental illness before really thinking the whole thing through. . whom Himmler could easily lie to for the sake of national security. a country under British control. Himmler was accountable to no one. Like so many others. including the designers of the ME-110. 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. In the resulting shield of confusion and paranoia. A black Mercedes would pull up and throw him in. A great and wonderful X by Bormann’s name. That was fine with Himmler. except Hitler. The airport and Messerschmitt factory staff. bloated rat with a criminal record past. The German people were now saying that a crazy man had been second to Hitler. and that he had been harnessed by the British influence at an early age. Hess’s former chief of staff. But that would be going a bit too far. Bormann was just a slimy.The criminal. Martin Bormann. had taken over all of the Deputy Fuehrer’s former duties. one day . He’d be Number 1 on a future list. . .
X .. every day since May 13.” Himmler was now about to make contact with the American Embassy in Berlin. Seven X’s. X .. Himmler still wondered who the man in British custody was. Age was of no consequence. Number 25. X. his mountain resort in Southern Germany. Kidnap his syphilitic highness on one of his next visits to Berghof.. was bound in the middle of the night. within forty minutes of each other. Aunts and uncles in the family were bound and drowned. Nieces and nephews strangled. doused with gasoline. their husbands and their children were all shot through the head in their living rooms. X. and 71 . . The BBC broadcast stated that he first gave his name as Captain Alfred Horn. Mutilated bodies of relatives and in-laws were piled near a lake shoreline.. His latest plan to rid Germany of Hitler was sound. Schubert’s wife. . Even so. . Only Schubert knew that name. 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. In two separate incidents. taken outside her home and axed to death.. and burned into the sand. More X’s.. lit.flight to Scotland.. .. Schubert’s married daughters.
He hated spies. Espionage. . counterespionage. less than two hundred miles west. Hitler was too naive. Found them too double-hearted. . and the other outbuildings for the good of the Gestapo. The details were sealed away in a letter that Himmler would courier to an important American official close to his Ambassador. . the mighty Fuehrer himself. With Hitler out of the picture. No more of the Fuehrer’s pathetic birds. Himmler could easily confiscate Berghof and make use of the huge compound. The various organizations and agencies of the Third Reich would fall under his control. his messy chocolates. **** 72 . . The grand Fuehrermaster. his useless wall maps. Spying was his lifeblood. and spying was of little importance to him. the Gestapo leader would be the most powerful man on the continent. the air-raid shelters. Him. a letter that was presently tucked in a safe inside his first floor office at Gestapo Headquarters there at 4 Prinz Albrechtstrasse.whisk him off to Switzerland. He would be the master spy of the super intelligence network that would devour the others. Adolf Hitler. the residence. spying meant everything in the grand scheme of things. He didn’t trust them. But to Himmler. He would demand absolute obedience to the state. Canaris’s days were numbered. The biggest X of all . Heinrich Himmler. The state in one word would be . The German Secret Service headed by Admiral Wilhelm Canaris was one such agency destined to fall.
Or is that my name? 73 . Then by Reichsfuehrer. wrestling with the throbbing in his head. I know the Fuehrer’s innermost thoughts. and there was nothing he could do about it. Who told me? The Englishwoman. I am the Deputy Fuehrer. He read it in her pretty face. I am the Deputy Fuehrer . . because after every meal he felt a warming sensation on the nape of his neck. He walked across the floor. . The one who came to my cell. They knew who he was. pretending he was on his feet. He stiffened to attention in the chair. once she knew who he was. But he called me Schubert. They treated him with great respect. He remembered a submarine trip. They clicked their heels. the dark-haired woman on the beach called him by a codename. . He was trying to confuse me. They bowed. and put his head on the table. They told me I did. She was surprised to see him. . But she knew who he was on sight. Why not? I am Rudolf Hess . The Englishman told me the same thing. sat. They saluted. closed his eyes. I am Rudolf Hess . He was confident it was the food. . then his entire body off the bed. It was a struggle. . lifting his head. Falcon. . . Where was he going? The sailors and officers were calling him Reichsfuehrer. He knew the British were trying to drive him mad .Camp Z Prisoner Z lifted his head and chest. She should.
“What do you feel is so important.” 74 . Sieg Heil! Sieg Heil! I am Rudolf Hess . clicking his heels. Herr Reichsfuehrer. . Come closer. I know the Fuehrer’s innermost thoughts. I am the Deputy Fuehrer.” Himmler wrote the time of Schmidt’s arrival in the date book.No. Herr Schmidt. that it made you leave the sanctity of your beloved Lisbon?” Himmler beckoned his visitor. he said.” Himmler instructed his adjutant. Some recent information has come to my attention that I felt I had to report to you in person. I am grateful for your speediness in receiving me.” The agent walked up and came to an abrupt halt. He ignored the dizziness and the discomfort of the cast on his left thigh. arm out like a ramrod. Don’t be shy. “Come. “Then leave us alone. He stood and saluted.” “Show him in. **** Gestapo Headquarters Himmler peered up from the lenses of his pince-nez. “Yawohl. “Heil Hitler!” “Heil Hitler.” Schmidt stepped in and saluted the man with the smile and thin moustache in the black Reichsfuehrer SS uniform.” The adjutant bowed. “Herr Reichsfuehrer. In a shaky voice. looking straight ahead. “Herr Reichsfuehrer. Hans Schmidt is here. .
understand the unpleasantness of it. He said it came from a good source. Of course. “Hess?” “Yawohl. have. He jumped from his chair and stood face to face with Schmidt. .Himmler folded his hands over his desk papers. “Go on. Totally ridiculous! You booked a Lufthansa 75 . and smiled. He said that . .” The agent clicked his heels. have . . Herr Schmidt. controlled shockwave hit Himmler. . “What!” The agent stepped back. you.” “What about the fool?” Schmidt licked his lips before going on. “A British Secret Service agent in Portugal approached me and said there’s been . I’m a busy man. Herr Reichsfuehrer . “He said that he was deserting the sinking ship. his eyes piercing. . .” Himmler felt a twinge in his spine. . And the difficulty for me to say what—” “Never mind the speech.. .” “Have what? Spit it out!” “Have aspirations to oust Adolf Hitler and be the Fuehrer yourself.” “I’m surprised at you! That is ridiculous.” “You must . I said Hess was pronounced crazy by the Fuehrer and that we are the masters of—” “Never mind what you said. . some . “That’s what he said.. Herr Reichsfuehrer. . . What did he say?” “He said there was turmoil in our High Command. . rumors since Hess’s flight to Scotland. Schmidt! Tell me what it is.” A sudden.
I would never do anything to the Fuehrer. . “I realize that. Don’t you see what the British are trying to do? They are desperate. Ignore these Englishmen.flight and came all that way to tell me that! I wouldn’t do any such thing to the Fuehrer. You went on his word? The word of an Englishman?” “Well. I—” “Don’t you realize how utterly stupid you sound? We’re at war with these people. Never.” “How very interesting. Do you understand me?” 76 . Herr Reichsfuehrer.” “You didn’t see any papers?” “No.” “Yes. of course I knew that—” “Have you told anyone else?” “Oh. “No one.” “To anyone! And avoid any similar situations at all costs. and large. no.” The agent winced. He did not.” “I forbid you to discuss this outside this room!” “Yes. I did feel obliged to inform you of it. Herr Reichsfuehrer. Herr Reichsfuehrer. Herr Reichsfuehrer. Never! It is ludicrous to even think of it. . They will try anything to turn us against each other.” Schmidt shook his head violently. his eyes frightened. Herr Reichsfuehrer.” “What was his source? Did he have documentation? Any confirmation?” “Well . no.
Schmidt nodded. “Nothing at all! The British don’t know anything. But there is one other point that the British agent brought up. They made a fool of you. Schmidt.” “As you say. Schmidt was another matter entirely. the bumbling imbecile. “Yes. yes. Herr Reichsfuehrer. Herr Reichsfuehrer?” “Nothing!” Himmler exploded. I will not. arm outstretched.” Schmidt’s voice was barely audible. How dare you! Dismiss.” “Yes. Of course. Herr Reichsfuehrer. But he had to. outside of intimidating him. He was too valuable. stabbing a finger an inch from Schmidt’s face.” Himmler stared into the agent’s face. “Heil Hitler!” Himmler swung around. And don’t listen to any more silly rumors. “Well!” “He said that they know what we have planned for the Jews. He blinked once. “What does he mean by that. Return to your duties in Portugal and make yourself useful. He had been forced to do nothing to Schmidt. inches away. “Heil Hitler. Herr Reichsfuehrer. Herr Reichsfuehrer. Himmler had disposed of Geis over the Hess mission. I am sorry to bother you. Go. He couldn’t snuff 77 . “Very well.” Looking relieved.” Himmler showed him the door. you are. He let Hess get away in a substitute aircraft. Schmidt clicked off an arm salute. Are you going to let them do it again?” “No.” Himmler turned away.
they could be testing others.S. with a large window. including the fancy lobby. On the way to the hotel. Canada The Kid checked into his room at the Mount Royal Hotel that evening. and a huge double bed. Besides. and check out two of the girls he remembered. heavy gold-colored drapes. tossing his fedora into a chair. man. From what he had seen of the other parts of the city’s plush hotel.him out. and the wide dance stage on the top floor. Hollinger was impressed with everything. Behind the 78 . Government business. Quebec. the elegant dining room. if the British were testing one German agent.” Hollinger said to himself. It was spacious. he took a long bus trip over the Canadian border into Montreal under the cover of official U. he found time to play some tennis with his younger brother. to surprising his parents in Rochester with a visit. It was in this case. Back home. He couldn’t kill them all. Donovan had told him. and flopping backwards onto the soft bed. Today. **** Montreal. he had stopped in at a book store and noticed an English translation of Adolf Hitler’s Mein Kampf. “This is living. Two days had gone in a flash. Hollinger bought it. Any good cover had to be at least close to the truth. from his White House briefing with the President on the status of Great Britain and the Hess mission.
We’ll show you the spots uptown.” Waden lit a cigarette. “Can’t do anything in a hotel room by yourself. Pleased to meet you. though. Larry.” Hollinger told him. “Quite the place. that’s right. So. She was pretty.” A thick-set man in his thirties. “Larry Waden. Come on. amused at his own cover.” “Why not?” 79 . wearing dress slacks. “Come in. here. He found he was always thinking of Roberta Langford now. you’re the government man.” “It’s OK. Nice legs too. like Robbie. Ohio. The door’s open.” Hollinger said. You’re my pilot. aren’t you?” “You got it.” “Lead the way. tie. You’re American.” They shook hands. A knock at the door sprang Hollinger off the bed. white shirt. The woman had smiled and he smiled back as he took the book and the change. “I’m Wesley Hollinger. You?” “Rochester.counter stood a blonde woman. The pilot looked at Hollinger’s well-cut suit.” “Stick close.” “Where you from?” “Cincinnati. and a leather flying jacket entered. The Lend-Lease observer. Don’t get into any arguments with Frenchmen. Montreal women that he had seen so far weren’t too bad. Especially the blondes. I like it. “You Hollinger?” “That’s me.” “Yeah. New York.
“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.”
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.”
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.”
“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.
red-faced. there has been some mighty peculiar things around here. He was an approachable man about fifty.” Waden shouted. “Newspaperman. Before they come and hit our supply ships on the way to Britain.” Hollinger was taken aback. nodding. a relaxed middle-aged group of thirsty. “Some long-range aircraft of theirs have been spotted on occasion.” “Really?” Waden nodded. The story goes that they send daily radio reports to Berlin.” “How do you know that?” “We picked up a signal on our set last month.” the man said. When he spoke. eh?” Buford puffed on his pipe. being the only man in the place with a suit and tie. “Ere comes the rain.“You better believe it. They refuel subs too. his lips barely moved. “Condors. The Germans are supposed to have a weather station out here somewhere. son. Yeah. Right about here. downing the last of the ale in his glass. weather-beaten Scottish fishermen and farmers. “It’s funny. Stephen Jordan felt like the foreigner that he was. 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. Jack Buford.” 97 . ‘Tis foul weather it is. thin patch of gray on his head. He soon struck up a conversation with one of the counter patrons.
No. “Hello there.” “What about it?” “You want some more ale. That strange Hess flight.” Buford chuckled.” “Thought I’d pop in for a few pints. Charlie. “Medicinal purposes?” “You bet.Jordan glanced at the nearest of the windows. You hear a lot of things in a country pub. What about the Hess flight?” “The story is that the moment that plane was tracked. he said to Jordan. Yeah. Buford eyed the old man setting himself down across the bar.” “Really?” 98 . The inn shook from a blast of thunder. thank you. The man was elderly. Outside. People talk. in faded work clothes. wet and dirt-streaked. Hurt himself bad. one of the radar technicians at Edinburgh – his father comes round occasionally – was told that the plane wasn’t to be touched.” Buford lowered his voice. To fix it up. “Just how peculiar?” Their attention was diverted to a man arriving through the main door. “Look what the wind blew in. “Oh. lightning rolled across the sky. son?” “No.” Charlie replied. “He slipped and fell off the dock in a rainstorm two weeks back. yeah. son?” “The peculiar things around here. shaking the rain off. How’s the shoulder?” Out of the side of his mouth. “Where was I. in particular. cheerfully.” Buford laughed.
son.” “Can you vouch for this?” “Can I! I know the man who drove them out. It was in a crate. son.” 99 . maybe. “Please. You sure you don’t want another pint of ale?” “I’m sure. In trench coats.” “You and millions of others.” “That a fact?” “He’s sitting just over there.” Jordan hated stout. Do you remember anything else odd?” “Yeah. What else?” “Try a stout. Like you. Buford looked around. A body. Safe passage. Maybe that Nazi-loving sonof-a-bitch Duke of Hamilton fellow or someone higher than him. son. “A body?” “Yeah. It’ll put hair on your chest. Who knows? The Secret Service. I often wonder what that Hess fellow really was doing here. What else?” he said. or something or other. but she was a body nonetheless.Buford nodded. They rented a boat one afternoon and took to the Firth.” he whispered.” “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. “Really. there was. That’s what I said. “Two men threw a body into the Firth a few miles from here. Bennie Warner’s his name. anxious to get on with it.
by himself. “Just want to tie up some loose ends. and no one said another word until the filled glasses were brought over. They don’t know where to find you.” “What kind of crate?” Jordan asked.” Jordan answered. “Now.” “They won’t do anything. not to blab it?” “I know. and they threw a crate in the water. “But they threatened me. what about that crate?” the writer asked.” That was good enough for Jordan.” “Didn’t I tell you. Come on over. He promises not to print anything.” They got out of their seats and crossed the floor. Buford made the introductions. Laddie.” “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.” Buford urged his friend.“Where?” “The one in the corner. Warner looked Buford’s age.” “Come on. “What’s to tell? Two men I never saw before paid me to take em into the Firth. but this Jordan fellow seems to be all right. He quickly ordered a round of drinks. Jack. Bennie. The three sat down together. “Tell him Bennie. He had finished his third drink and was on his fourth rolled cigarette.” Warner belched. 100 . about the crate. “Buy me another bitter and I might be forced to loosen me tongue.
” “So.” Jordan said. Buford here.” “Your friend. give me a ring in London. 101 . one of the gentlemen said.” The three clinked glasses. “Or there be a great deal of trouble for me. But when she went over.” “Aye.” “What did you do then?” “I steered em back to shore. He was growing increasingly nervous. If you hear anything. it was a German body?” “How the bloody hell should I know. ‘So long.” Buford said. “And me.” Bennie replied. said there might have been a body in there. Laddie. They paid me good.” “Me too. Kraut. I don’t make of habit of looking at corpses. I promise not to print anything.“Long. toasting his bitter with the men. mister. Mr. If she was a corpse. Your names won’t be mentioned anywhere. “Cheers. and they told me to zip my lip. anything like that. make sure they aren’t. “Thank you. then drank. You have my word.” Jordan pulled out two business cards and gave them to the fishermen. “I didn’t look at her.’ The other one with him told him to shut up.” Warner sipped his drink. Bout the size of a coffin.
102 .” Waden said to Hollinger standing behind him in the cockpit. He called Prestwick tower for an altimeter setting and landing instructions. loomed straight ahead through a smoky haze. banking the aircraft. The Scottish Lowlands. and had to use the washrooms something fierce. “Prestwick. They were tired. One Firth of Clyde trawler came . The crew were anxious to touch ground. Then another. roaring over Glasgow on a southwest course. hungry. . his oxygen plugged in and checked periodically by the radio operator for possible failure. sliding under the nose glass. cold. and went. .CHAPTER EIGHT West Coast of Scotland Islands disappeared a thousand feet below. 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. next stop. heading for the open country. the final stop for RAF Ferry Command. Most of the way. Hollinger dozed in the radio room. Once they made landfall at the Scottish coast.
Hudsons.Hollinger had to smile.” Waden informed the copilot.” At 135 miles per hour. pressing the landing gear lever.” “Intercoolers?” “Open. The aircraft shuddered and creaked for a moment. “Wing flaps twenty degrees. the concrete runways of Prestwick airport were clear for the landing. He stepped back to the edge of the bulkhead and sat down. head on his knees. A good sign.” “Wing de-icers?” “Off. Waden dropped to full flap.” “Cowl flaps?” “As required. “On. Mixture?” “Auto rich. . “Props?” “Twenty-four hundred. “Wing flaps twenty degrees.” On final approach. Throttling back to 155 miles per hour. DC-3’s. Waden bent down right. Hollinger saw other ferried aircraft lined up at dispersal. and locked. Prestwick suddenly poked out of the mist. .” the copilot replied. “Landing gear down.” “Booster pumps?” Bridgewater hit the switches. It was in this area of Scotland that Felix Schubert had been shot down and forced to bail out three months ago. 103 .” “Wheels?” “Gear down . Liberators.
Hollinger was unconcerned. “One-thirty . while the horrified crew could only watch and ride it out. the other two props clanged to a dead stop. Hollinger banged his head against the bulkhead. These guys knew what to do. followed by the nose wheel. Hollinger leaned on an elbow and sniffed. “Everybody out!” Waden released his straps. onetwenty-eight. The left side quickly crumpled under the strain. tripping over Hollinger. He turned around. jolting from his seat. throwing the crew to the right.. Lucky for them. “I’m going. The undercarriage had collapsed! The Liberator pulled to the right. screeching across the concrete. Full on her belly now. and get your ass outta here!” he yelled.” The runway reached up for them. Then the two starboard props clanked to an ominous standstill. The Liberator slid sideways onto the grass. By then. nearly knocking himself out.. pulling Hollinger up with him. . The main gear hit the runway with a strange thud and the right side of the aircraft crushed to the concrete. The pungent smell of gas suddenly dominated the cockpit.Bridgewater called out the speed. . Waden and Bridgewater powerless to control the direction of the aircraft. Hollinger was thrown across the deck. the aircraft spun completely around to a full stop. his head coming to rest at Waden’s boots. The pilots knew they were in a pickle. “Get up. Dazed. Then it all happened so fast.” 104 .
The men leaped out. What a schedule. what. hell. bunched together as one. They managed to get forty feet in the clear when two explosions.” 105 . It was the Judge.” “The Big Guy? Today?” Lampert nodded. “Thought I’d catch some shuteye. after midnight. colonel?” “Get up. He looked awful. Wesley? There’s work to be done. glowering down at him. Three hundred miles and a debriefing with the Prime Minister. **** Prestwick Hollinger felt a shove in the ribs and opened his eyes. “What gives? We won’t get to London till. stretched. Churchill awaits us. hurtling them to the ground. badly in need of a shave. rattled their eardrums. He rubbed his face.” “No rest for the wicked.” Lampert ordered. to the middle of the aircraft. The radio operator kicked open the fuselage door. How goes it.The men scrambled. and yawned. a second apart. “Yes. Winnie wants to see you. I came up to give you a lift to London. “What are you doing here?” “Change of plans. Hop to it. today. “What the devil are you lying about for. pipe in mouth. “Run!” Waden cried.” Hollinger looked at his wrist watch. leaning on the suitcase he had used as a pillow.” Hollinger slid off the bench inside the airport.
He never sleeps. they piled into Lampert’s Austin and began their long drive south.” Outside. I remember. let’s go.” No one spoke for several minutes. Lucky for us. . Lampert lit his pipe. Come along.” “All right. “Yeah. sir. We could have been fried if we hadn’t gotten out in time.” “What happened?” “The undercarriage snapped on landing.” Hollinger sighed. “I heard it was a wee bit of a rough landing. . Prisoner Z at Farnborough. I’m hungry. colonel. They figure the locks malfunctioned. There was nothing left to salvage. He’s been asking questions around the area we dumped Hess’s body. “Not so fast.” Lampert reached down for Hollinger’s bag.” Hollinger replied. “From the Daily Telegraph? The one who’s been writing Churchill to see . rolling down the passenger window part-way to allow the smoke out. it was rough. We’ll eat along the way. What did he do now?” “He’s snooping. only the navigator had a few scratches. He hated how the English always understated things. You should know that by now. And 106 . Before long. I brought along some sandwiches. “Do you recall that newspaperman I spoke to you about? Jordan?” “Yes. A little too much. sir.“Doesn’t matter.” “Yes.” “Never mind. Time is of no consequence to Winnie.
“Incidentally. “By all means. lad. sir. “But don’t do them on company time. I’m asking for a volunteer before I pick you?” “Special duties.” “An interview. is it?” “Correct.” Hollinger sighed. “Thank you.” There was another long pause.” **** 107 .he tried putting pressure on the Duke of Hamilton to pull some strings for him. I’m too busy. sir. Wesley. I bet?” “Precisely.” “Tell me.” Lampert asked. I saved you the crosswords.” Hollinger grinned. “Oh. Always coming up with something or another. he had gotten into the habit of doing the crosswords in the London Times. “how did you get on with the President?” “You’d like him.” “Swell. He had no choice and he knew it.” While laid up in the hospital back in May and June.” “Is this leading to something?” “We’ve commenced a twenty-four hour shadow on him. Of course not. And how’s Donovan?” Hollinger sighed.” “Interesting.” “No.” “I’d advise you to take some additional weapons training. He can mix a great martini for breakfast. he’s still thinking up a storm.
Filberg. “I shudder to think.” Smith said. reading. can you?” “No you can’t. I.” “I don’t doubt it. “Thank you. What is it?” “You’ve stumbled on a can of worms. “We owe it all to Aris.S. A twenty million dollar loan to a German ball bearing plant. and through the parent German company.” COI Director Colonel Donovan looked down at the photos in his hands. Can’t conduct a war without ball bearings. How is she? Still as beautiful as ever?” “I don’t know what she looked like before. D. I heard a few things during my 108 .” “You mean it might not?” “Smith. “Nice work.Washington. left then right. Now we know that Kerr. He was pleased with Smith’s photos. – August 3 Donovan smiled. You must be briefed on some details. “There it is. seated across from the powerful man. Chapman & Company is dealing outright with the Nazis. we presume. sir.” “Yes. what I’m about to tell you can’t leave this room. when she was your secretary.C. 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.” “Yes. Aris. seeing that it was in their file. But she sure as hell turned some heads in that New York restaurant yesterday. sir.” Donovan spun slightly in his office chair. sir.
eh? I’ve heard of them. You know. I can’t really see that. Smith. “Probably. and none other than the man who put America on wheels. I don’t get it. Did you know that they have an American Board of Directors?” “Are you serious?” “Perfectly. Why would the Nazi’s go to them? Why not some of the larger outfits?” “Maybe the others weren’t playing ball.days as a Wall Street lawyer. Filberg?” “It’s a German munitions conglomerate.S. sir?” “Kerr. Kuhn.” Donovan shrugged.” “It’s true. with strange bedfellows. when you consider that Chase Bank in Paris has been operating wide open since the Nazi occupation last year. “Henry Ford! I don’t believe it. This is the world of high finance. and get this.” “Who?” “Paul Warburg of Kuhn.” “Somehow.” Smith froze to his chair. Also on the board is Charles Mitchell of the Federal Reserve Bank of New York. I saw things. Loeb.” “Yeah. Loeb are mainly Jewish. Loeb & Company. a fairly large Wall Street investment house. a third or a quarter the assets of the big Wall Street banking houses.” 109 . Chapman is only a small Wall Street banking firm. What do you know about I. hang onto your hat. Or I should say I don’t want to. small in comparison to the others.” Smith folded his arms. At least.” “Well. Henry Ford. boy. “What.” “Kuhn.
I know that through our agents in France. “Sir. Most of the board of the directors on Kerr. these Jewish bankers here couldn’t care less what the Nazis did and are doing to their own people in Europe.” “Is he now.” “Meanwhile.” “You mean Aris will. 110 . Lots of it. Vince.” Smith sighed. Weird fellow. Anyway. sir.“It has?” Donovan nodded. A Nazi sympathizer. Chapman are Jewish. Federal Reserve in 1913. and so promptly. Furnishing the Nazis with loans. he’s Jewish too.” “Fancy that. And the strange thing is. His uncle.S. What gives?” “They got money. was one of the founding fathers of the U. damn it.” “Yes. Supported Hitler since day one. what do you know about Aris’s boss. Keep that under your hat.” Donovan set the photos down on his desktop. from what I can recall.” “I guess not. “You bet it has. isn’t it?” “I’ll say it is. Banking ran in the family. too.” “Thanks for coming. she’s our key. Chapman?” “Vincent Chapman? Met him a couple times. William Chapman. we had better keep an eye on Kerr. Keep in touch with Aris and me on a regular basis. But I thought the Nazis hated Jews. Chapman.” “With a name change. Smith. Ironic.
Tomorrow.” “She sure don’t look it. and took to the corridor. Roberta Langford was always in a hurry. her quick trot echoing in the corridor. Besides. beautiful. “Wesley! Oh. a box in his arms.. “Freeze!” Langford screamed. Aris is married. Hollinger turned a corner and there she was coming his way.” “Happily?” “Yes. A twohour private audience with the Prime Minister and a three-hour sleep were behind him now. “And remember. you.Smith stood. He waited. Smith. would be on his way to his Atlantic conference with Roosevelt.” “What did you do that for?” “Aren’t you glad to see me?” 111 . well briefed by the Kid. The prodigal son returneth. head down. Churchill.” **** MI-6 Headquarters It was still as hot in London this Saturday as the day he left. chewing gum. dropping her papers. He set the box by his feet and hid in a doorway.” “Goodbye. Hollinger threw his hat on the desk in the Whitehall office allocated him in early July.then jumped out and yelled.” “Hi. monster. sir. “I will.. she’s too old for you.
I forgot. Besides. yes. “What dinner?” “Remember. and high heels with round toes. broad-shouldered jacket with matching skirt. “Do you now?” He observed her dark-green.” “But the hair has to go. I did. Didn’t I. “Nice outfit. “There you go. down on the sides and back. She had on a trace of lipstick and makeup. her hand to her chest. I’m ready for that dinner you promised. gently. touchy. “Have you done something to your hair? You tied it back. Rather becoming. you look ghastly. You know. up in the front. Sorry I asked.She gasped for air. I like it better the other way. “Under the circumstances.” “You think so?” “I do. he gave her the impression that sleep was unimportant. I saw your new title on your door. “At your flat.” She curtsied. By the way. “Thank you.” he said.” She put a hand on her hip. Executive Assistant Enigma Operations. too. Fancy.” “Only when called upon.” “Oh.” He laughed. But the Colonel said you still work for me. I’ve been so busy. no. the day before I left?” He leaned on the door frame.” 112 . Don’t you sleep?” With one look.” He helped her pick up the papers. Too matronly. “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. folding his arms.
I’m holding you to it. On second thought. I was just about to put it on your desk. “Security reasons. Special delivery. “But I’ll have to break a previous tentative engagement.” She perked up. “Don’t look so enthused. Is that all that’s left in England? Organ meats? Next thing you know I’ll be eating haggis. letting loose with a slight grin. What do you say to kidney pie and Yorkshire pudding?” “Oh. You know. you’re cracking. Honest. I’ll be working late. he said. “A package came for you.” “Don’t like the menu?” “Just kidding. it is.” She shook her head and looked down at the floor.” Hollinger laughed. rocking on his heels.” “Sorry. I could mosey on over tonight.” “Incidentally. “I can never get mad at you. that. “Atta girl.” Hands in his pockets.” He bent down to lift the box. I wish you hadn’t put Redhead on an official trans-Atlantic cable. You like me.” “Tomorrow?” “Tomorrow.” she sighed.He nodded. I didn’t want the enemy to know who you really were. “What’s that?” “What’s what? Oh.”‘ “Then break it. “For me?” “Yes. deep down inside.” “Don’t be too sure about that.” 113 . Silly me. I’ll try and force it down. for you. OK.” She smiled fully.
“If you’ll excuse me. five packs of Wrigley’s chewing gum. It’s almost gone. Her eyes bulged. **** Gestapo Headquarters Spy master Heinrich Himmler did his best to stay cool and collected when the Fuehrer telephoned from the Russian Front. how is that coming along?” 114 . I have a report. Thanks for asking. and different shades of lipstick. “Yawohl. The commando squads are following orders and performing admirably. Hollinger was nowhere to be found.” When Langford returned to her office. I’d better take the papers to the colonel. now. a tin of American coffee. the likes she hadn’t seen since 1939. how’s the cold?” “Fine.” “By the way. She pulled at the wrapping tape and opened the flaps. What a sweetheart Hollinger was.” “You’re welcome. six Baby Ruth chocolate bars. a small bottle of French perfume. mein Fuehrer. Be right back. In the land of rations and scarce commodities these were a gold mine of treasures. Shan’t be long. When he wanted to be. Bless him. some fresh oranges.” “The Jewish problem. the box was on her desk. She pushed her anxious hands through the contents – three pairs of silk nylons.
“The special camps will be running at full capacity. Organizing the prisoners into staging areas for transport.” “And the chemical? What is it called?” “Zyklon-B. “Why the delay?” “It is taking some time for the logistics. Herr Reichsfuehrer. by the end of the year or early next year.” In a few moments.” Himmler wrote in his date book. and then we have construction of the units. “Yawohl.” Himmler knew that to be a lie. the paperwork and the blueprints. and pressed the intercom. the bidding.” **** Himmler hung up.” Adam Eiser dared to show a ragged smile. “How is our Fuehrer. Himmler knew the cocksure agent wouldn’t be a pushover like Schmidt or Geis or the others. mein Fuehrer. just tell Hitler what he wanted to hear. you might say. Herr Reichsfuehrer.” “Speed it up! There is no place for the unfit. Himmler stared at his resummoned visitor. The 115 . Merciless. Hydrogen cyanide crystals. For now.” “Worried. mein Fuehrer.” “Ask Herr Eiser to return at once. 11:15 – spoke with the Fuehrer on the Jewish problem.” “Yawohl. mein Fuehrer. Herr Reichsfuehrer. The Filberg organization says it’s an instant kill. “Yawohl.
ice-gray eyes was too clever for that. He took risks. all the while going straight to Himmler – by his own initiative – and reporting to the Gestapo leader on everything he was telling Canaris. He worked for money and the Nazi ideals he had cherished since his teenage years. Eiser had been handed what some would consider a thankless assignment. He was useful. He was one of the few men Himmler respected. He had acquired the necessary data needed to report to Canaris. thirty-five-year-old agent with the unblinking. the German Secret Service chief. He took the jobs no one else wanted or could do. six-foot-four. and get away with it he had respect for. and had his own unusual code of self-preservation. Eiser had guts.flamboyant. and that was to spy on the German Intelligence High Command based in Berlin. Eiser was a smart snitch who covered his tracks. Anyone who could outsmart Admiral Wilhelm Canaris. Recruited by Canaris in 1940. A mere mention of his intimate relations with known Berlin prostitutes – the evidence in Himmler’s Gestapo dossier – was the convincing factor. Himmler admired snitches who worked for him. He was making a very decent living as a “specialist” in a market that catered to his talents. Canaris was the one who forgot to cover his own tracks. 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. Himmler’s file on agent Eiser was clear. He was fond of inflicting pain and death. Canaris had no choice. 116 .
.” “The usual fee?” “Better.S. But the long.” “The business cartel?” “The same. Herr Eiser. “I like them already. An interested rich party. Herr Eiser. high cheek bones.The Reichsfuehrer-SS wiped his pince-nez clean. . Filberg. 50. The second a . Eiser looked too Nordic. A new donor has stepped forward. “What exactly did you have in mind. light hair.” “Germany?” “You are reading my thoughts. He studied Eiser’s features to confirm his evaluation. backyard job. Much better. The first job . The first one is your old stomping grounds. and Roman nose could go. Nothing could be done about the eyes and deep voice. if you don’t mind me asking?” “I. Hats were popular where he was going. .” “Who.” 117 . prominent jaw. After these two.” “What is the second?” “I’ll get to that. All expenses paid. He’d have to start wearing a hat. Herr Reichsfuehrer?” “Two jobs. You will confine your activities to—” “England?” Himmler nodded.000 pounds sterling in your Zurich account.” Eiser’s eyes gleamed. “Yes. And I’ll throw in a bonus. . a well-deserved month’s vacation to the Riviera.” “I thought you might.
Herr Reichsfuehrer?” “Certainly.” Eiser didn’t speak for several seconds. “I know that too. I hear. No radio communication with Hamburg once you are there.” “I’ve heard of her. The person in custody may not be the genuine article. Someone could have inserted an ersatz Hess. wouldn’t you say?” Himmler smiled. And she’s pretty too.” “May I be so bold as to ask why you want him dead.” “And I’m a wanted man in England. naturally. For the first assignment.” Himmler smiled. You know Hess. you will be in and out. I understand. I wouldn’t get very far. “Yes.” “I know that. Herr Reichsfuehrer?” “You’re only contact will be our agent Denise. she is.“England? Germany? Highly unusual. Herr Reichsfuehrer.” 118 .” “But he’s in British custody. “Yes. and a perfect cover for you. Herr Eiser. as if he asked the question every day. a new identity. Herr Eiser.” “Who?” “The British. Probably guarded like no other person on all the island. “Kill Hess?” he said. falsified papers.” “What exactly is my job?” “Kill Party member Rudolf Hess.” “Yes.” “Why is that. I have a plan.
Eiser folded his hands in front of him.” “But what?” “That was some time ago. Will you still take the first assignment then?” “Of course.” Eiser sat up. Takes only seconds to work. Either way. December.” “Kill him?” “He’s crazy. But first. wore a meticulously-cut uniform with the shiniest black boots. isn’t he?” “So the German radio and newspapers say. He was clever. I must know one way or the other if the man in Churchill’s hands is Hess or an impostor. “What if he’s the real Hess?” “Simple enough. “Yes. “Why is I.” Eiser considered what he was up against. I met him. kill him anyway. Briefly. Herr Reichsfuehrer?” 119 . a specialist. Clear enough?” “Yes. 1939. Hess was tall. Herr Reichsfuehrer. . at the Chancellory. Herr Reichsfuehrer.S. I know someone who will help you in your identification of the Deputy Fuehrer when the time comes. I have to send you somewhere. cool. How will I kill him under the English noses?” “Lethal injection.” “I see. slim. The first meeting was in the Chancellory. But..” “Where. he dies.. bringing Party Member Hess to mind. or me for that matter.” “Very good. While you’re there.” “Yes. . suspicious of anyone too close to the Fuehrer. to see .” “I thought you might. Don’t worry. Filberg so suddenly interested in Hess?” “It doesn’t concern you. Twice.
armor.” Eiser said.” **** Rastenburg. his forces destroyed over 1. Just kidnap him. the one he had worked the hardest for. “What is on your mind. Switzerland. In silence and solitude over his wide map of the Eastern campaign. In the first nine hours of the attack. “I see. Nothing like that. Since the attack on Russia. His Blitzkrieg forces were advancing swiftly into the heart of the Bolshevik empire. and mineral water. yogurt. Adolf Hitler began to consume his light lunch of raw vegetables. “Kill the Fuehrer?” “Oh no. and infantry. more than twenty years later. The decoration was the one possession he was most proud of.” They stared at each other. he had single-handedly captured enemy soldiers at gunpoint. In 1917. directing the war against his hated Communist enemy.“A trip over the border. his fortified bunker close to the Eastern Front. bombers. coupled with precise radio communication was a well-oiled machine. Herr Eiser?” “What does my backyard job entail?” Eiser laughed. East Prussia His First World War Iron Cross reflected the strong indoor lighting. For onehundred thousand pounds. and within a week ninety percent 120 . he found himself spending most of his time here at Wolf’s Lair. The network of fighters.000 Russian aircraft.
They were numskulls. and Britain had better stay out of it now. . Hitler’s deepest innermost thoughts were directed at the British. England fought the Battle of Britain bravely. and the Duke of Windsor were Hitler’s favorite Englishmen. They didn’t sign. not the British. He couldn’t understand why they were still fighting him. and declared their unquestionable admiration for the New German Order. They escaped. It was so useless. Speed! . There was no point to invading England. Now they were interfering with his plans for expansion. Hadn’t they read Mein Kampf? Had he written it in vain? Bolsheviks were the German enemy.of their front-line aerial strength. . Britain’s Prime Minister during the Great War. David Lloyd George. Hitler snickered. But they didn’t talk. He ordered the panzers to hold up at the beaches to give time for the British to surrender and ink a peace deal. Churchill – he is the one who’s poisoned their minds. He allowed the miracle at Dunkirk to take place. Speed! . Speed! Lightning war. He had introduced a radical change in tactics in which air power was the key. It wasn’t any prelude to invasion as Churchill had bellowed in his broadcasts. but stupidly. It was a tactical bluff to lure England to sign a peace pact. like the world had never seen before. Although Russia was his prime target. All Europe was his. Lloyd George should be in 121 . They were poking their noses where they didn’t belong. . . They were supposed to be his blood brothers. Both had visited Germany and Berghof. His heart ached.
Five months. Then total capitulation. 122 . 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. not that Jew-loving Churchill. Hitler hammered his fist on the table. the Fuehrer had decided. Hitler reflected on Hess and the ill-fated flight. A beaten Russia would sign. Whether the British and Russians had intercepted the plans for Operation Barbarossa or not. Hess.power. Tops. it didn’t matter. No negotiated peace. She kissed the officer lightly on the lips and climbed in. who had refused the latest generous offer of concessions. not his brother George VI. you nincompoop. Through the slit he saw the RAF officer open the car door for Langford. It was the only way now. **** MI-6 Headquarters Hollinger stood at his Whitehall office window and faced the car lot. There would be no mercy on them. It was all going to his plan. And the Duke should be on the throne once more. Hollinger watched every one of her graceful moves. furious that his peace offer to Churchill was thrown back in his face. He was counting on a twenty-week campaign to finish off Stalin’s forces. He was already a quarter-way there. Churchill’s pawn. his fingers crinkling the blinds. Only unconditional surrender.
Wake up. And he did for a time.” he mumbled.The two drove off into the light surface fog. too. they kissed. In the States. But damn. after all the jokes he used to make about redheaded women. But seeing her again brought back the fervor. cursing under his breath. She was probably wearing the nylons he gave her. And a redhead who smoked! “Some guys have all the luck. 123 . Why her? There was no denying it. Then he thought about something. He was falling for a redhead. Hollinger yawned. The nerve of her. though. A year ago this would not have been possible. closing the blinds and returning to his half-finished crossword. No great catch on her part. 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. What did she see in the schmuck? At least he had good taste. Hollinger was taken by Roberta Langford. Langford. Was the Englishman the previous engagement she would have to break? Hell. He closed the blinds. He yawned once more. sleepyhead.
typewriters. and had remained that way ever since. and surrounded by a natural barrier of mountains.CHAPTER NINE Zurich – August 4 With a clank of wheels and a hiss of steam. although it didn’t stop them from exporting a major portion of her goods to the Third Reich. Western countries called the Swiss ‘cynical opportunists’ and ‘renegade Germans’. following the end of the Napoleonic Wars. 124 . The Swiss deplored the Nazi tactics. During off-hours. a Mondaythrough-Friday salesman dealing in telephones. She had declared herself professionally neutral in 1815. she had been growing rich off the Second World War by banking for the Germans. 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. David Shean was there to greet it. and France. the Munich Special jerked into the train station. By 1941. and radios. Sunday started out quiet for Shean. Switzerland was a small country wedged between the borders of Germany. Italy.
They had a long-standing nickname for him – Acid Man. Metal elevators were 125 . No hat. carefully. It was Lancer. Six blocks from the station. took to the street on foot and followed the man. nonchalantly. slowly. The sidewalks were moderately busy with morning traffic. Shean kept him within sight at more than forty feet back.” This Sunday. No one was inside the lobby. On the seventh day we rest and pray for the allies.Germany criticized them for being a haven for Jews and Marxists. Shean was surprised to see Lancer slip through the revolving glass doors of a ten-story office building. Brown hair. A crowd was always a good cover. Twice Lancer turned. hundreds out of the ranks of the Gestapo. The Swiss had a favorite saying: “Six days a week we work for the Germans. and merely kept walking. He was in his thirties. The Americans and the British also had hundreds of their own agents in the country and they used their respective embassies for communication channeling. two or three inches over six feet. Meanwhile. He had a memory for such things. On a Sunday? Shean followed. cold eyes that first pinched a nerve in Shean. What the bloody hell was Lancer doing here? Shean tucked his newspaper under his arm. his eyes searching the storefront windows. Shean expected it both times. 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. But it was the brutal. No mistake. Hitler had a thousand agents in Switzerland.
” “What’s that in your mouth? Gum?” “Sure is. London Sunday at the office wasn’t any less busy than any other day. He lit his pipe and the sweet smell of pipe tobacco filled the air.straight ahead. He had lost him. No movement by the numbers overtop. When she arrived exactly on time. **** MI-6 Headquarters. I wish to have a word with you. An organized mess. From the good ol’ USA. As was the custom. Wrigley’s. looking across the room to the framed pictures of Churchill and King George VI. Colonel Lampert’s secretary would always promptly serve the first tea of the day at 10:30. Any instructions?” “Tell him to see me here. colonel. sir. “Spare me a few moments. Margaret?” “Yes. Files littered the floor. Want some?” 126 .” “Sure. Immediately. “Ring Hollinger for me. would you please.” Content with his tea. Shean grunted. Lampert said to her.” “Right away. No one was on the stairs to the right. Hollinger appeared in under a minute. sagging from the weight. Wesley. the colonel’s spacious office contained stuffed bookshelves. Lampert waited patiently.
Or goes out for a few bubblies. the pistol that had been his companion of late was visible.“Certainly not. sir. for the love of—” Hollinger glanced up. “Jordan’s a good little boy. Hollinger shrugged. We’re feeding information to those close to Himmler. How did you do at the firing range?” “Not bad. Lampert had two files on his cluttered desk. based on the Schubert’s peace papers. If you say so.” Lampert then walked Hollinger through the SimsSchmidt discussion in Portugal. and Schmidt’s subsequent flight to Berlin. Goes to work.” “Yours. cracking his knuckles. “Oh.” Lampert demanded. “Yes. goes home to his wife.” “Yes. or somebody else’s?” Hollinger laughed and sank in a chair. “Winnie named it Operation Decoy. “How’s the shadowing?” He took a swallow of the tea. Get rid of it. I think we’re wasting our time. grinning. I think I hit the target a couple times. monitor his reaction and see whether the information will climb the ladder.” “Keep on him. then goes home to his wife. We want to isolate the Fuehrermaster.” Hollinger lifted his foot and stuck the gum to the side of the shoe. sir. Maybe we can spark a sudden turn of events that will 127 . beneath a bright desk lamp. strapped to a chest holster under his jacket. Nothing out of the ordinary. “What’s the matter?” “Never mind. I don’t want any gum chewing in my office.
Lampert took the file back and gave Hollinger another. how about that. the name. if you would.” Lampert moved a file towards Hollinger.” “Who do we have here?” Hollinger asked. You know.” “To each his own. Comes highly recommended. A Yank in the RAF.” Hollinger muttered. Hey. Better yet. “His codename is Lawrence. “Take a look.” “He’s rather keen on Lawrence Olivier movies. Say it fast and it comes out like atomizer. I saw it. It’s just . It wasn’t very good.” “By whom?” “Me.” The American read the tab in the top corner. “Adam Eiser. in his forties. dragging on his pipe.trip up the upper echelon of the regime. laying it open for him. Switzerland. You know what I mean?” “Wishful thinking.” Lampert frowned. I hope it doesn’t backfire on you.” “You heard of him?” “No. Good man. Maybe his parents didn’t like him.” “Why should it?” “You never know. Betty Grable. .” “OK. I prefer Clark Gable. Perhaps cause some infighting or topple it.” 128 . The American saw the photograph of a man with a receding hairline. .” He pointed at the picture. MI-6 out of Zurich. “Yes. “His name is David Shean. “Look at this. turning the file his way.” “Ordinary codename.
Our agent even changed his codename a tad to Larry. A-Man is undoubtedly short for Acid-Man. Here. let’s get back to the file. I’ll explain shortly.” 129 . Codenamed Lancer. Something significant might be in the offing. This morning. right?” “I don’t kid. AMAN IN TOWN. it doesn’t matter.” “You’re kidding.” “You think someone sent for him?” “Yes. shall we. There are spies. He can get it to us in minutes. This man’s frightfully good and he’s dangerous. The best foreign agent the Germans have. MI-6 has a man at our London cable office. Eiser is the latter.” “An uncoded cable? Why?” “They’re quick and easy.” “What’s unusual about that?” “Last we heard. An uncoded transmission is above suspicion if it looks innocent. Even if a neutral technician is blackmailed to tap the cable. It took awhile for it to register on me. Plain-language code. A-Man. LARRY “What does Aman stand for? Is that a misprint?” “A hard A-sound. HEAD OFFICE SIX FOUR. Shean saw him in Zurich.” Hollinger took the sheet from Lampert’s hand. Eiser was in South America. Then there are master spies.“Please. A nickname someone in MI-6 had given Eiser years ago.” “How did this Shean get word to you so fast?” “A regular cable. ARRIVED BY TRAIN. It’s highly possible because he’s worked primarily for the SD. which this is.
Mother 130 .” “Anglo-American Fellowship Association. then German Ambassador to Great Britain. sir. The father’s nationality was the dominating factor.” “Sorry. German father. A one-time British citizen.” “No kidding. Eiser’s in the middle.” “Will you keep quiet and let me finish. “That was taken here in London in 1937. drinks in their hands. they did. Born. run by Himmler.” Pipe in mouth. Stephen Jordan to the right. eh? Did anybody in England not belong to that outfit?” “A few. Go on. until he came to a faded photograph of three men in suits. “Wait a sec. British mother. and gave Hollinger the data from memory. “At an Anglo-German Fellowship Association black-tie affair.“What’s the SD?” “The Sicherheitsdienst. Eiser was an only child. a dock worker. 1906 in Liverpool and reared there.” Hollinger froze. He’s of mixed decent. Lampert cleared his throat. Eiser and Jordan knew each other?” “Yes. Their duties cover a wide range of internal surveillance and espionage around the world.” Lampert said. The secret intelligence and security service arm of the Nazi Party.” “Who’s the cat on the left?” “Joachim von Ribbentrop. But an ardent Nazi.” Hollinger flipped through the half-inch of paperwork. Getting back to Eiser.
and a new career with Wilhelm Canaris of the German Secret Service. He was a man of many talents. 131 . A lone wolf. By then. He reportedly knew Hess and the Haushofers. They let him operate to see who he was making the rounds with. with a certain flair for the dramatics. The father died in a work-related accident in 1930. He made friends with British newspapermen and businessmen. Always at the top five percent of his class. he was an expert at explosives. Volkischer Beobachter. Besides being illusive. and collected lists of those sympathetic to the Nazi cause. Eiser went to private schools. Joined the British Fascist Movement and the Anglo-German Association. The British knew what he was up to from a source inside the German Embassy. For years he had made fools of the British. fine music. muscle. offering his services to the Germans through their Embassy to spy on the British. He had vast contacts in Parliament and Whitehall. Helped to distribute the English-translated version of the Nazi newspaper. The Depression came along. spying. He drifted from job to job.died when he was ten. He had girl friends. He had high marks. but dropped out of university after two years. schools that his father could barely afford. assassination. He had training as a doctor. but never married. followed by Himmler and the Gestapo and Sicherheitsdienst. Adam was a firm believer in the National Socialist Party. he disappeared and wound up in Germany. A lover of the arts – the theater. Two weeks before war broke out in Poland. His father never remarried. A real pro.
He travels rather light.” “A high-roller. The worst kind. Usually paid in pounds sterling in a Swiss bank. Hence. his nickname of Acid-Man and codename of Lancer. eh?” “Quite. then stab them in a main artery behind the ear.” “No doubt. But we’ve never been able to catch him.” “I hope I never meet up with him.espionage.” “I agree.” 132 . counterespionage. It’s a game he’s played with us for two years. A Nazi of independent thought. Most ingenious.” “And he works for money. “By using the acid and the dagger. common to female Secret Service agents. 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. almost as if he wants to leave clues. when he got the chance at close range. “we always know where he’s been. “It sounds as though he enjoys his assignments.” “My sentiments too. He had a distinct style of killing. Lots of it. British-made dagger. but packs a wallop. He incriminates himself. he knew precisely where to strike. I’d say. His weapon was a thin. The victims choked to death.” Lampert said. and sabotage. Perhaps money will be the death of him one of these times. He had worked mostly in neutral countries. Due to his medical training.” Hollinger flipped the file closed and slid it towards Lampert.
codenamed Bradley. “Maybe. lad.” “Thanks. huh? Just here for the love of it. Five o’clock came and went. “Yes. don’t you think?” Hollinger asked. Still no sign. It’s worth looking into. a colleague of his in Brazil disappeared.” “SD?” asked Hollinger. No sign of Eiser. A mentor of Eiser for a time. MI-6 has asked Donovan and your COI for some assistance in that part of the world. the same week that Eiser is spotted. “Funny.” “Same here. I mean?” “I don’t know.” “And what about Jordan? It seems a coincidence that we’re tailing Jordan at the same time. But thought to be retired. Thought you should know this information. Edgar Heinemann. He just up and vanished. Lampert puffed on his pipe.” **** Zurich Shean paced the entrance near the revolving door for the rest of the afternoon. They’d be closing the building in another thirty minutes.” Lampert smiled slowly. Perhaps. “Not with what my government’s paying me. Any significance or connection? Heinemann and Eiser pulling up stakes and moving out.” Hollinger joked.“I’m glad I won’t have that to tempt me.” “You too. Shean 133 . watching a few faces come and go on this off-day.
“How did you like the kidney pie. Anyway.” “I thought you seemed rather partial to it. Shean’s footsteps echoed on the marble floor as he strode to the balcony above the entrance. and puffed. “I couldn’t stop. She was ladylike and polite. Shean raised himself to his feet. She and Hollinger drank and seemed to loosen up quickly. Out the back. She lit a Player’s. There was only one other way Eiser could have left. Then something finally registered. **** London At the flat.wondered if Eiser. One was German. by chance. You ate over half the pan. knew he was being followed.” “I’m glad you had the decency to leave me a corner.” 134 . Under the heading of plastic surgeons. “I ate it. there boss?” Langford asked. He glanced over at the building’s long directory in block letters on the wall board for the umpteenth time. Seissburg. He smirked. didn’t I. the Yorkshire pudding was delicious. he found two names. and waited on Hollinger’s every want. But the evening wasn’t going well until she brought out the brandy and poured it into two crystal glasses. Langford was the perfect hostess.” She blew out a perfect smoke ring. and threw his newspaper in a trash can. Dr.
You being the hostess and all. All right.” “Yes. which was ideal for Langford. one-bedroom flat was on the first floor in an unbombed area of London within walking distance of MI-6 Headquarters. Flats were safe again with the Blitz over.” She sighed. Three times. taking their brandy with them. “Anyone ever tell you that you have nice legs?” Hollinger asked. I think. She was wearing a white. I had to. Yes.” “Yes. The comfortably-furnished.” 135 . But who’s counting?” “You are one rather tactless man.He shrugged. down on the sides and back. Her hair was up in the front. He liked the way she appeared.” “On what? Don’t answer that. 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. They looked good on her. Hollinger watched as Langford kicked off her shoes and crossed her legs. “Well. 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. You’ve told me. I am. “Is this relevant?” “Depends.” They retired to a long brocaded sofa in the small living room. “Fancy that. Thought I’d try a new French brand that someone gave me. You changed your perfume.
And he has the full lowdown on the peace papers. . We’re part-way there already. “You had martinis with the President . I haven’t even met Churchill.” “Maybe you will someday. Roosevelt’s in a jam.” “Schubert? Yeah.” “Splendid. About the impostor. yes. without the people’s support. If he goes too far in aiding Britain.” “Why do you say that?” “Because you’ve been to 10 Downing Street and the White House. he noticed Langford’s eyelids drooping and her forehead starting to crease. Eleven o’clock. There’s something I can tell my grandchildren. he could be impeached for breaking the neutrality laws. making her grin. after a little threat.” 136 . “I’m told the colonel says our prisoner is cooperating.He grinned. As the American talked. yet. Then again. “The President is in-the-know now. probably not. Then he got to the martinis. is he?” “Oh. hobnobbing with Churchill and with Roosevelt. in your case. Will the German plans for domination make you Americans fight for us?” “Not that by itself. . including the inside of the Oval Office.” Hollinger went on to describe in detail the rest of the meeting and what he remembered of the White House. and he knows it. You really are precious.” Hollinger answered. in the morning?” “Yep.” “You have to get married first.
Why little old me?” He shrugged. I’ll try and get you in. Hollinger wanted to say. “Look.” He scratched his chin.“I doubt it. I’ll run along.” She attempted a smile. “I hope he’s treating you well. .. “That’s nice.” “I know I shan’t. I know the evening’s still young and all that. “I dunno.” She gave him a slight smile. Must you know so much about me?” “What about that beanpole of a flyboy?” “Then you do know?” She paused. something like that. “More brandy?” “No thanks. Maybe I’ll relax and read a new book I bought. “Everybody does. The office is talking about it. you know. but you don’t look that well. “Just asking. thank you very much.” Her eyes burnt into his.. .” “Protect my virtue. . “I’m feeling a .” “Good grief! You were assuming.” “He is. “Are you seeing anyone?” “Maybe.” “He’s a nice man. headache coming on. “He’s a perfect gentleman.” Which means he’s boring as hell.” She massaged her temple and grimaced.” “Pregnant? Certainly not!” Her hand went to her hip. It might happen. .” 137 . If he gives you any trouble.” Hollinger pictured them kissing in the parking lot.” “You’re not . let me know. will you?” “Yeah.
Mein Kampf?” “Yes. ta. Hollinger fumbled with his hat. “Till tomorrow. He stared at the chipped door. She liked to pretend she didn’t like it. Hitler’s.” She walked him to the door. “Hitler’s Mein Kampf!” “No Churchill’s. It’s what kept her charged in a man’s world. Ta.” As she began to close the door on him. What the hell was it then? His flat was a roomy.” “Oh. I am.” he told her. she thrived on that. “I want to see for myself what he says in it. Although only 138 . I hope you feel better soon. “I’ll see you at the office. really. It was a deep mystery to him why he couldn’t get to first base with her. followed by Langford.” “You’re joking. boss.“Which one?” “Mein Kampf. “Thank you.” “Ah. one-bedroom on the fourth floor with connecting living room and kitchen.” “It’s been lovely.” “Why on earth would you want to read that?” She felt her forehead. Hitler’s book of bent ideology.” “Adios.” “I’m sorry if I upset you. Hollinger didn’t move for several moments. Of course. They looked into each other’s eyes. I hope so too. you’re just saying that.” “Yes.” Hollinger stood. she said through the crack.” In the hall. Was he too abrupt with her? Nah.
She was really quite a knockout. He thought back to the blonde counter woman in Montreal who sold him the book. She was no pushover. Then he met Roberta. like Roberta.two miles from Langford’s place. then curled into his chair with Mein Kampf. Pretty. He first put on a pot of strong American coffee. So intelligent. 139 . opened the book to the first page. that he didn’t like redheads before he came to England. Inside. she probably could be. What a woman. If any woman could be an iron ass. Strange. So outgoing. it was in a better end of town and offered a brilliant view of the city on two sides. and began to read. And not one to mince words. A brain. Like a mule. Hollinger did exactly what he told Langford he’d do. Hollinger shook his head. And so doggone stubborn.
he watched with the others as one to the east in anticipation of Churchill’s ship. The President arranged himself in his wheelchair. and asked his son for a fill-up. He relished the sea aroma this dull. the President wore his leg braces over a brown suit. he was the Assistant Secretary of the Navy. Gathered in a group of military brass and civilians. set to arrive in minutes. Newfoundland – August 9 The President inhaled the brackish. He drained his hot mug of coffee. Roosevelt’s love for the open water continued unabated as the current reigning Commander-in-Chief. the waves lapping against the hull. Ready to receive the British Prime Minister. damp air. cloudy. After taking the oath in the midst of the Great Depres140 . Roosevelt had been in office eight turbulent years. beneath a set of long. gray guns pointed across the Bay to the green hills beyond. In the First World War. with a brown hat. misty morning at 0900 hours aboard the pitching deck of the American battleship cruiser USS Augusta.CHAPTER TEN Argentia Bay. The ship beneath him had been cleaned to perfection.
that he had made government too powerful. He quickly became the President who people either loved to love or loved to hate. Five thousand banking institutions collapsed the day before Roosevelt’s inauguration on March 4. Thousands of banks were closing their doors. Thousands were standing in bread lines. WPA. he had informed his nation. TVA. Conservative-minded people said he had gone too far. And he became FDR. the President had been concentrating his efforts on the war. Roosevelt made bold strides in legislation to combat the bad times. Government agencies shot up overnight. one of every four workers was jobless. He placed federal controls on business. Trouble was. he was an outsider looking in. For the first six years of his administration. But the common man adored him. NRA. labeled by their three-lettered initials – CCC. 141 . He hoped that Churchill would understand that. FDR’s goal was to prop America back on its feet again. Since 1939. Farmers and city workers couldn’t pay their mortgages. “The only thing to fear is fear itself.sion. 1933. and Hitler’s attack on Poland.” At the time. an officer spotted two ships steaming towards them. He spent billions on relief and public works programs. 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. CWA. At last.
split through the three and chugged alongside the Augusta. causing the American cruiser to rock gently. the war-weary Prince of Wales had blasted the Bismarck to the bottom of the sea. with gray camouflage that blended into the sea. “I wonder what Churchill’s like? Some say he’s a bully. Someone pushed the wheelchair off to the side. and stood. his eyes moving up to his son. Just that May. 142 .“Looks like the British delegation now.” the President said. Roosevelt set his coffee down. squatty. They both had to set up sophisticated screens to confer here.” “Now where have I heard that before. Three ships burst through the surface mist.” Elliott Roosevelt said. Roosevelt saw Churchill right off – short. far bigger than the others. holding to the rail with both hands. Her band aboard quickly struck up The Star-Spangled Banner. Roosevelt and Churchill would finally meet for the first time. dad. cigar in mouth. They laughed. opposite Newfoundland’s shores. Churchill’s fleet had been dodging German wolfpacks at sea for five days. The ship’s paint was peeling and parts of her showed rust. supported by his son. The President had made up his mind that he would not greet his long-distance ally sitting down. the hum of their engines drawing closer by the second. They were destroyers. after two years of correspondence. The Augusta replied in earnest with God Save the King. A host of men stood on the deck. Then a fourth ship. HMS Prince of Wales. dressed in Navy blue.
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. It was more than plain to everyone concerned that Churchill had come not only as a leader. the two giants were finally alone. Lend-Lease. Earlier that day. with his entourage. Flashbulbs popped. but a pleader. Winston Spencer Churchill. Now it was time to be direct. they discussed the plight of the Soviet Union.” Both ships anchored. The British boatswain on the Prince of Wales cried out. for the sake of the military advisers and civilian staffs. Churchill stepped onto the Augusta. “Fall in for entering harbor. the President was taking a well-deserved rest – a little R-and-R – near Cape Cod. Roosevelt towered above the Prime Minister. U-boat sinkings. Franklin Delano Roosevelt. Lord of the British Empire. 143 . landing craft – for the far-off day when Britain would invade the European continent – and current British-American relations. As far as the American public was concerned. A meeting of the political giants that cemented a kinship on the spot. IN THE PRESIDENT’S SUITE THAT EVENING. with a mutual friend – a bottle of vintage French wine. Mother Churchill’s home country. The two leaders shook hands for the photographers. Commander in Chief of the United States of America. At eleven hundred hours. A pleader in desperate need of munitions help. seated around a table. This was history.
“He’s . cigar in mouth. Good man. The two were able to make the same speech on the same day in different cities. He’s a washed-out Luftwaffe pilot. Winston. Two married daughters.” Churchill rolled the cigar in his palm. Hollinger. “Could be.” “The man you have locked up. “I’m sure it would have its advantages. Donovan and I want to see what he’s made of.” “How do you know?” 144 . Hess used him as his double in the elections during the Nazi’s rise to power.” “Give him lots to do. .” “More men like him would make Donovan’s job easier. besides his name? What is it?” “Felix Schubert. A truck driver sent by Himmler.” Churchill laughed. that boy. “Looking for future executive material?” “Maybe. He said Hess was seeking asylum.” “Or just lucky. He has a wife. what do you know about him.” the President said.” “We will.“I’m impressed by your man. Thanks to Hollinger. .” Churchill said. we realized we had a Hess double. wine glass in hand. of use to both of us at the present time. that right?” The President puffed on his cigarette.” “What an idea! We should try something like that. We’re finding out new things about him all the time. “Quite so.
What about these liquidation squads in Russia? Are the facts right?” “Yes.” The President’s voice trailed off.” Roosevelt looked grim..” “How long are you going to keep this Hess thing under wraps?” “A hundred years secrets stamp should do it. The race is on. Private German firms are bidding for the contracts to build the sites. “Yes. “It’s horrible just thinking about it.. he didn’t admit he was an impostor.“Schubert himself. For the longest time. except for some as cheap labor.” “Both frightening. So we’ve been drugging him with truth serum.” “His papers are.” “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. I promised to protect their good names and all that rot. The atomic formulas or the death camps.” “A hundred years!” “That’s the deal I made with those scoundrels who tried to deal with Hitler.” Churchill nodded. They have no tolerance for prisoners. They mass murder Russians by the thousand. “I don’t know what disturbs me the most.” “Hollinger said the data was confirmed on the camps.” 145 . they do exist. Run by the Gestapo. swallowing a mouthful of wine. They’re called Commandoes.
I want to know one thing. “In private.” “If the Germans beat us to the atom. our air force would be forced to bomb Europe from bases in Iceland and Newfoundland.000 miles at 30.“The Nazis are mad.” Roosevelt smiled. First of all.” “Indeed.” “I know. Let’s hope and pray the Russians can put a stop to Hitler for us.” “Or die trying. Pressurized cabins. Winston. “Boeing is working on such a project. your government would be welcomed in exile. Capable of carrying 10. We need help. The world’s first global bomber. 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. But that’s only one of our huge expenditures. If we enter the war due to your collapse or for another reason.” 146 .000 feet. A prototype will be ready in a year. “I’ll answer your question in two parts. When are you going to get into this ruddy war?” “We just can’t go and declare war on Germany without provocation. there’ll be more death camps around the world. I’ll have to hide our costs somehow.” “With what? No bomber has that range. If England should fall – God forbid – then what?” Roosevelt regarded that.000 pounds of explosives over 3. I’ve said it all along. To work together on splitting the atom. Stalin could do us a favor. Including the Royal Family. The biggest bomber ever. Congress would crucify me.” Churchill said. The other is those atomic secrets.
” The two greats were silent for a few moments. He stared at the American and said coolly. Tell me about Hitler’s concessions. “Scout’s honor.“Either way. spread by the Germans.” The suddenness of the loaded question caught Churchill completely unprepared. A sudden twinkle appeared in his eye.” Roosevelt nodded. “Winston. “A false rumor.” “Scout’s honor?” Churchill raised his right hand. it’s a favor.” “They can’t fight. “Viva la France. “There are no such concessions. But they make damn good wine.” Roosevelt wished he could believe his friend. 147 . The President poured more wine for them.” “Is that so?” Churchill’s eyes bore into the President. our Embassy in Switzerland sent me a report last month. something else on his mind.
” “Very funny.” he said. “When do you find the time?” Langford asked.” He rubbed his bloodshot eyes. and jam. toast. It begins with an i. Hollinger had ordered his coffee black. “What’s the problem? I do them here or in the office.CHAPTER ELEVEN London – August 16 They asked for coffee.” “Let me think about it. Hollinger. Another hot day in London.” She tapped her fingers to her lips. Only a few scattered chairs were occupied by the in-house male and female staff this Friday. Ends with o-u-s. “I got it. What’s another word for arrogant or overbearing?” “How many letters?” “Nine. 148 . “I need a wake-up. margarine. I take it?” “Listen.” “When you’re not napping. The windows were open. He pulled out the day’s London Times crossword – half filled in. and selected a table opposite the cafeteria entrance.
“Sounds like someone I know.” “Once you sort through a lot of the political clap-trap. “I stayed up reading the rest of Hitler’s book.” He folded the crossword up and put it away. he believes he is the one true German leader and his National Socialist Party is the one true party.” “In particular?” 149 . “Must you be so noisy?” “Sorry.” “Anybody could have told you all that rot.” He slurped his coffee. granted he wrote the book many years before he came to power. But I got through it. let’s not start anything. OK.“What’s with you? Couldn’t sleep last night?” she asked.” “How nice. You didn’t have to waste your time reading his book. munched.” “For instance?” She bit into her toast. and wiped her mouth with a napkin. He calls them the Jewish state. Fascinating stuff.. the things that he had said he would carry out if he became Chancellor.” She laughed.. He hates Jews. What did he say?” “Well. he has a pretty high opinion of himself. he’s schizophrenic. that’s for damn sure.” “What do you think of him now?” “For one thing. The International Jewish world of finance. “All right.” “But some of the other things I found distressing. But nearly everything he stated in the book has come to pass. “OK. It took over a week.” “Speak for yourself.
On June 22.” “How. He said he would eat the bread of the Eastern hordes.” He looked to the side. how could a man physically do it? “Well?” “It’s gets more juicy. The Big Guy wasn’t holding the reins. Besides. it might have turned out differently. Once in office.” Langford stared at him. yes. Then his army walked into Austria. Hollinger hated it when a man crossed his legs. Amazing. Two tables down. Hitler started making speeches about how oppressed the Germans who were living in Austria were and that Austria should return to the Fatherland. and neither England nor France did a thing to stop him. annexed it for the German Reich. it could be obtained at the expense of Russia. He crossed his legs. this year. I learned a lot more than you think. huh? And I think I only scratched the surface. a man about thirty sipped his coffee.” “Next.” “You really got caught up in it. looking straight ahead. may I ask?” 150 . “I need hardly point out that we had a different prime minister then. Otherwise. I take it. Peace-in-OurTime Neville Chamberlain. I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt. that also came true. Too feminine.” “True. dearie.“The Austrian-German Alliance. Hitler said that if Germany required land.” “So right.” “I did.
Her face was a mask. 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.” “If you wish. Especially after yesterday. From this point on. Contrary to what many believe. “Yesterday? What are you talking about?” “You won’t like it.” He took a deep breath.” “Promise?” “I promise. “Now get this. and Holland – for a written promise 151 . “Really. I didn’t have to. I did my homework.” “You went deep into Hitler’s mind did you. Promise you’ll keep this to yourself. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you. Belgium.” he mused.“I never should have read it. let’s keep our voices low. good grief!” “Listen. heaving for a breath. Hitler is not planning to Germanize the world and take it over. He had heard that Hitler was willing to hand over five occupied European countries – France. Norway. Denmark. Should I want to tell anybody?” “Yesterday. to dig that out?” “No.” “Oh.” Langford put her cup down. I read it in his book.” She leaned to one side. “I’m all ears. Try me?” Hollinger downed a mouthful of coffee.
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. I wouldn’t believe a word of it.of a truce with Britain and the promise of a free hand in Russia. It’s all part of the Geopolitic vision for Europe. So. what he’s always said in Mein Kampf.” “To conduct such an undertaking against Russia. Your precious England. breathlessly.” “Professor Haushofer’s teachings?” “That’s the fellah.” “Not necessarily. his one ally in Europe – England. you know what else he said in his book?” “I’m waiting. his eyebrows bouncing. Russia!” “The book again. You’re pulling my leg. then. he would need an ally.” He grinned wolfishly. He was Hess’s Munich University teacher in the days after the First War. Think about it. Hitler’s always wanted to expand east.” “Don’t get cute.” 152 . getting back to Hitler. He’s using them as leverage to get what he’s really wanted all along. my lady. “I wish I could. He never wanted the other countries. what did you tell Donovan?” Hollinger dwelled on what was sticking in his craw – Roosevelt’s words.” “He’s kept his word. You’ve heard of him?” “Yes.” “So.” “Rubbish.” “Anyway.
” “Take this into consideration.” Hollinger leaned forward.” “Yes. “Hitler’s word isn’t worth you-know-what. Or something along those lines. For the most part.” “Shit. as you might recall.” Langford said. huh? I doubt it. in the first person. Hitler’s too tied up with Russia.” “How well I remember.” “Balderdash.” “You seem to suddenly fancy yourself as an expert on Hitler’s motives. Hollinger added.” 153 . he’s always craved an understanding with the British. A peaceful coexistence.” “I beg your pardon?” “You’re believing your own propaganda. He’s bluffing. There was a great and mighty future in an alliance with Britain. then attacked him two years later. The Blitz stopped the night Hess landed in Scotland to talk peace. He doesn’t have the guts!” She wiped her mouth. It’s right there in black and white.” Waving his hand. Hitler invading England across the Channel. sure. “It could still happen. “Yeah. For a smart person. He signed a non-aggression pact with Stalin in 1939. He’ll do it to us too.” “Something like that.“What the devil!” “He said it. With his western flank protected he could then move east on a great Germanic march. I do. “There would be no sacrifice too great in winning England’s willingness. you don’t know a snitch.
you know. of course. “Sorry. Robbie. They set me up. “Forget it. come to think of it. didn’t . you found out that a so-called ally – no. to Roosevelt. “Listen. May 10th was the night she had been caught in the Luftwaffe raid on London. Hypothetically. What are you trying to say?” “Churchill let Barbarossa happen to keep the Germans busy in the east. They sent me to the White House to soften up my own President.” He shook his head. What if. . . .”‘ “What are you saying?” Hollinger hesitated. “My eyes are open. I bet you two bucks to ten that the Big Guy never told the Russians about Operation Barbarossa. when she had been trampled on and had miscarried. suspiciously. He’s lied.Hollinger fell silent for a moment. “You might say that. A damn stool pigeon for His Honor and the Big Guy.” “Go on. How do we 154 . I .” Hollinger heard again his President’s voice. .” “He’s lied to us. To me.” “Mere conjecture. And to Stalin.” he retreated. And I fell for it. taking some time to get in gear again. And now he’s deliberately drawing my country in this war. let’s say. He’s lied to Roosevelt this week at the Atlantic conference aboard some rusty old ship. to Donovan. You know. 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.
feel that way. “So? Everything you’ve said is circumstantial evidence and is dangerous talk around here.” She backed off a touch. Mr.” Hollinger grunted. He wanted to sign a peace pact with you. “Let me remind you that you are working with and for us.” “I bet you do.know the British aren’t holding anything back? “You know what people are saying about Churchill?” “What is that?” Langford wanted to know.” She looked around at the few faces in the room. And there’s no sign of any German invasion fleet. I haven’t been doing much of that of late. however. Your own countrymen. I’m still an American first. Don’t forget the peace rumor out of Switzerland.” “Hah! Some analyst. But let me remind you we are still hypothetically neutral in this war. You have no proof of anything. On loan. Bordering on treason. We’re both sworn to the Official Secrets Act. As a cipher analyst. At any rate. That’s 155 . until her eyes narrowed at him. Washington. the COI. Donovan. And another thing. I heard that Hitler had every chance to annihilate your forces at the Dunkirk beaches last year. Roosevelt. “It’s not only the book. “The only way to fight Hitler is with another Hitler. But he didn’t.” “I know this isn’t the best thing for British-American relations.” Langford was livid. and you came up with this. And I march to the tune of different drummers. my dear. “One week of reading. Hollinger. I do appreciate the British hospitality.
why.” “He did?” “Yes. and. He’s certainly not a threat to us in America. He let you get away to think about it.” “Wait a sec. How do we know the papers are legit?” “You’re incorrigible.” Langford went on. they are.” His hand moved towards her hand. what about them?” Hollinger hesitated.. And England’s part of it. touching it. “Trust me on this. .. don’t I? What about you?” “You’re forgetting the broken Munich agreement.” 156 .” “Oh. methinks. and .” “To paraphrase own dear William Shakespeare. ‘thou protests too much.’ ” “Meaning?” Hollinger asked. That’s only what we’re told. . “How can you trust Hitler’s word? What about the extermination camps.” “Listen to me. With Hitler’s peace.” “What are you saying? Hitler’s not a threat?” “In a way. Robbie.” “Wise up. “Your opinion is so strong that you don’t necessarily believe it. Then Hess came. This is Europe’s problem to sort. How did you know about the jets and camps?” “Lampert briefed me on the full details of Hess’s papers. Well.” “According to our foreign agents. and the jet aircraft. “If they’re on the level. and the Master Race genetic testing.
She fixed him an unconvinced cold stare.” “Promise me.” She wasn’t in the mood. good guess!” “Don’t foam at the mouth or anything.” Hollinger grunted.” She frowned. . I need time. You’re a levelheaded woman.. I beg you.” Her face turned a deep red. and . “Leave me alone!” “You take offense at my opinions?” “Oh. “End of the year. the other hand on her hip. “We’ll see who’s right. “End of the year. “None whatsoever. I. fair.” “This is no way to make friends and influence people.” “What?” 157 . .” “Robbie. “Oh! Sometimes I could just—!” “I’m not a traitor.” “How much time?” Hollinger shrugged. . and pulled her hand away. well . After that . “Give me some time on this. to show that I’m right.” “I don’t suppose there’s the slightest possibility in your mind that you’re wrong?” Hollinger stood his ground.” “Them is the breaks. I thought you’d be one person who would understand. .” “I don’t. ..“Based on what? Nothing I’ve heard from you in the last few minutes.” “That’s your prerogative. . please.” Hollinger chuckled.” “Bugger you! Why not ask for the end of the century. I have an opinion.
” Then she turned to leave for the second time. We still cannot locate Eiser. It fits. We fear he went to Switzerland for plastic surgery to do a job right under our noses. murmuring something indistinguishable. “What was that?” “Nothing!” **** Hollinger spit out his gum and headed to Lampert’s office. Thanks. She stalked off in a huff and a flash of skirt.” she snapped. She was not Robbie the sweetie now.” The American found a chair. “Perhaps. Every MI-5 agent here in England and MI-6 agent in Europe and 158 . I shall take my leave of you.” she snapped. “Yeah.” “Oh. tapping a pen on his desk blotter. I suppose. “Meantime. Hypothetically. No pun intended. you buffoon. but stumbled. Hollinger chuckled.” “I’m referring to the puzzle. Sit down.” She whirled in her seat and bolted to her feet. too cross with him to speak. “Bad news?” Lampert was in his shirt sleeves. Then she returned half a minute later. “I thought you called me incorrigible. chin out. “Not now. Wesley. head high. “I believe the word is imperious.” “You’re welcome.“I don’t know yet. you’re right. It seemed her foot had fallen asleep. “Close the door.” Hollinger pulled the crossword sheet from his breast pocket. annoyed with herself.” She made an attempt to walk away.
the COI located Edgar Heinemann – Eiser’s tutor – for us. “Yes. He has to change it if he ever wants to come to this end of the world and we think he will.” **** 10 Downing Street – August 18 Churchill had returned to London that morning from his Argentia Bay conference with Roosevelt.” “Sunday. Wesley. It takes two. given a doctor of caliber.” “I hope his trip was worthwhile. His first order of business was a morning report to the House of Commons.Africa knows his face. eh? Lucky bum. Hawaii. How long does it take a patient to heal completely?” “Funny you should mention that. Bought a boat ticket for Honolulu. possibly three months. His phone rang.” “Where?” “San Francisco. Wesley.” “So does he. he found his way to the underground War Room.” “Geez.” “Hawaii. when’s the Prime Minister due back in town. Incidentally. I wonder what Eiser’s up to?” “Yeah. I called a specialist this morning. By the way. in the afternoon. he did. just before you came in the door. Then. He closed a file and lifted the receiver of the C-phone.” 159 .
Prime Minister. “What about the May 9th Falcon File transmission?” “Not that I know of. Neither he nor Langford know. “We can’t panic.” “Successful. We’re stuck with the clod. We’ll make out as if we don’t know. I don’t know how he does it. sir.” “Who?” “Hollinger. Colonel Lampert. I think. He has us over a barrel. Now what do we do?” Churchill asked. I’m afraid.” “Who told him?” “He figured it all out on his own. He was overheard in the cafeteria. At least he has an inkling. If we send him home. The President agreed only to enter the war should Japan attack the Dutch or our own possessions in the East Indies or Malaya. I can keep him busy with projects. Then Roosevelt will ask Donovan questions.” 160 . I trust?” “Yes and no. He knows why he went to Washington. “Do you hear me?” “Yes. sir.” “You hope. What’s new with you?” “He knows. sir. Donovan will ask questions. Mr. Welcome back.“We best go on scramble.” “Seems so.” “Thank you. Whether we told Stalin—” Churchill swore over the line.” Churchill pressed the proper button.
Hitler’s concessions got back to Washington somehow. sir! Hitler’s willing to give up five countries!” “Yes. blasted. If Donovan knows the score. colonel.” Churchill admitted for the first time to Lampert.” “I can see what this means. sir.” “Oh. Donovan asked Hollinger for verification.” “I’m afraid the President does already. then so does Roosevelt.” 161 .“One other thing. Five countries. “If we can take him at his word. The Kid said he hadn’t heard anything.
Hickam Airfield and Ford Island that day. now stateside in California. Five prints altogether displayed a low-level panoramic view of Pearl Harbor. and studied it carefully through the small magnifying eyepiece. and the Lexington. an excellent angle of the Harbor entrance. Shots of the four carriers. would soon join the Hawaiian fleet. From there. Rumors spoke that the carrier Saratoga. the black-and-white images appeared like magic on the last of the eight-by-ten-inch photo papers. when most of the ships were either at anchor or in dock. That would make five flattops. he hung it up with clothes pegs on the line with the other photos to dry. the Enterprise.CHAPTER TWELVE Honolulu – November 23 He stirred the darkroom tray in his apartment closet. Sunday. He slipped the sheet into the water tray. 162 . Under the orange light. then the fixer. Perfect negatives made perfect prints. were especially distinguishable. the Yorktown. He was a perfectionist. and eventually to the second tray of water. the Hornet. He hovered over the final picture.
Tips weren’t bad. 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. thanks to a German friend who entrusted him to a Japanese diplomat in Rio de Janeiro. living the socialite life of a rich retiree. in turn. But the other money was coming in once more. The data was then radioed in code to Tokyo. Then he set out to ferret more detailed information. by conducting his own surveillance of Pearl Harbor and the surrounding area. codenamed Bradley.It was an awful comedown for the widowed. Bad women. 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. crooked card games. took his job seriously. radio broadcasts. the Japanese Naval Intelligence specializing in espionage in America. Heinemann. photography. and one too many slow horses. Poor Heinemann had run himself broke in South America. One of the simplest things was to observe the Pearl Harbor activity from an exceptional vantage point – near Spring Tide Restaurant on Aiea Heights. 163 . He was utilizing several methods to obtain his information – newspapers. and who. One such report was invaluable to the Japanese. 52-yearold Edgar Heinemann to drive a cab six days a week. overlooking the waters. at first casually absorbing all he could of the island of Oahu. happened to be a member of the Japanese Third Bureau Section 5. Quite handsomely. It was the least favorite cover he ever had to use. The paychecks were meager. though.
But I overheard one name.” **** Vichy France – November 24 Inside the compartment. **** Washington. It was easy being a spy on Oahu.” “Really?” “Yes. A local gift shop was Heinemann’s best find. They used three aircraft per patrol. sir. A half-dozen faces I couldn’t recognize. Lydia Harris craned her neck to see the French policeman accompanied by a man in 164 .” “Keep in touch. There. and guarded only the north and south approaches to Oahu. Bill. sir. “Yes. Donovan lifted the receiver of his office phone. he had purchased a set of photos showing an aerial panoramic view of Pearl Harbor and had passed them along to the ConsulGeneral.C.” “Who?” “Silsoner.Heinemann had discovered that the American air patrol searches behaved in a predictable pattern. Aris?” “Sir.” “Yes. Mr. D. there’s an important meeting underway here.
She wished she could appear as unruffled as they were. and could officially move in and takeover any time they damn well pleased. Tall. Twenty minutes later the door banged open. Beige trenchcoat. The elderly French woman beside her smiled. He was her age. Harris watched as Yellow Hair checked them. “Passports and traveling documents. The French mother and her teenage daughter across from Harris stared ahead. Stiff. German. They answered promptly. in tones anxious to please. “S’il vous plait. she knew Nazi Germany ran the show. All she had to do was stay calm. She was above suspicion.plain clothes board the train at the Marseille stopover. They wouldn’t dare frisk her there. then turned to the older woman. He asked the three of them questions in perfect French. Although this was the unoccupied neutral section of France. the way they had done when they overwhelmed Northern France in 1940. pretending to read a political column in The New York Times. Assuming it would take the latest boarders some time to arrive at her compartment. Or would they? What about a strip search? She tried not to think about it. Her nerves tightened. Bolt upright. She had nothing to worry about.” Mother and daughter showed their ID and documents first.” the policeman snapped in French. The wind seemed to leave her. Harris knew enough French to 165 . Yellow hair. Harris smiled back. Harris dragged on a cigarette. He had to be Gestapo. She could feel the small manila envelope pressing against her spine under her bra strap. lost in their thoughts.
sir.” “Yes. a grin on his lips. his smile a patronizing put-on. “Born 1911. She gave him the passport and some documentation that he had to fold out. Her gray skirt fell a modest few inches below the knee. “Yes.” The woman’s face on the passport – small black and white picture that it was – revealed a very beautiful.” “You Americans are so vain. Thirty is not very old. Then he held his hand out to her. her English friend had warned her – too pretty. I go by my maiden name. Divorced. All three were on working visas in Vichy. Her blouse buttons were done up to her neck. and left a button or two loose at the top. 166 . For this trip. He was staring hard. “Although I don’t like to advertise my age. Says here you’re American?” The German switched to faultless English. A writer. “A correspondent for The New York Times.” He looked at the occupation on the passport. I am. A whole lot of skill and some lady luck would have to get her through.” she answered. Any other time she would have been dressed to the nines. right through her face and eyes. She had refrained from using her red lipstick and makeup. Harris’s hair was tied back in a bun.catch the gist of the conversations. And you’re very German. Are you married?” “No. and she wore her reading glasses. too noticed. white teeth.” She smiled with even. Thirty years old?” “That’s right. “Lydia Harris.
The put-on smile vanished. She had taken an extreme amount of heat from her peers to get where she was. Yes?” “Yes. You’re not kidding buster. Miss Harris. “Where do you reside.” She said nothing. Miss Harris?” Stick to the truth. 167 .almost perfect face. and turned his back to the passengers to make a note on his pocket-size writing pad.” The Gestapo man read the paper issued by the American Embassy in Switzerland. she wanted to have the courage to say. I haven’t been home in over a year. .” “And why are you flying to New York?” “A vacation. The Gestapo agent followed. She took the pressure and the bed offers.” He neatly folded the paper and gave it to her. “Your photo is . closed the door slowly. she was told.” she replied. different. .” The French policeman left the compartment first. She wasn’t just some dumb blonde. “What’s the nature of your business in Vichy?” “I’m traveling to Lisbon. He stared at the ID. She had worked so hard to succeed that it had destroyed her marriage. She forced herself to be polite. “Thank you. shall we say . Have a good trip. “It seems to be in order. instead. The envelope felt clammy against her skin. . a slight curl to his grin. . My Embassy in Switzerland reserved a flight on a Pan-American Clipper to New York. and shook off both.” “It’s rare to see a woman overseas correspondent. “Zurich. it is.
His hair was cut short.” “You learned to ski. and filled in flesh below his high cheek bones. Freda was a good teacher. of course. bending down. No surgery marks. Doctor Alfred Seissburg – the hawk-nosed buzzard – had outdone himself. “Excellent.” Himmler swiped a small piece of paper off his desk and 168 . scrutinizing him. Eiser’s new face was nothing short of miraculous. He had grown a moustache. The only thing the same were the fierce eyes and the bass voice.” Himmler’s smile faded. looking closely at Eiser. “They will never recognize you in England.” “Play time is over. did you?” “Yes. Eiser tapped the hat in his hands. “Does it meet with your satisfaction.” “And you found time for a good tan?” “The sun is rather bright on the slopes. I do hope you enjoyed convalescing and biding your time in the Swiss Alps with Freda. his eyes glistening.” Himmler said. your lady companion. touched up with a little white dye around the temples. He smiled roughly. Now to the work. delighted. hands on hips. cut back on his prominent jaw. almost to a brush cut. not two feet away. “Waiting the extra month was worth it. Herr Reichsfuehrer.**** Gestapo Headquarters Himmler was astonished. Herr Reichsfuehrer?” Himmler nodded.” “Why. She kept me warm at night. The good doctor had thinned out his Roman nose.
” “Just how close?” “They were in one of these all-male organizations a few years ago. And he had also slept with her that last night in Hamburg. “I want you to see that person at once. He knew exactly how she tapped her key. Dismiss. They were very close. “Walter Buhle. before they had sent her to enemy territory. Why not? He had trained her. his transmitter deathly silent.handed it to Eiser. 1940. down the aisle. He frequents an establishment called The Pyramid. He had befriended her. before our Party came to power. in the red light district of Berlin. Ten minutes to go until Denise reported in. Tonight the airwaves were average to steady at the receiving station.” Eiser’s eyes fell on the name and address on the slip. Outside his booth.” **** Hamburg Radio operator Gunther Gruhn enjoyed a cigarette while leaning on the desk top in his soundproof booth. Gruhn knew everything about the agent Denise. I understand. Not much in the way of data from 169 . sat nineteen other operators each with his or her own frequency range to scan. Need I say more? That is all. all sets tuned west to England. Who is he?” “He knows Hess from his Munich days.
The set hummed softly as it warmed up. The dampness was a killer. She removed her gloves and played with the dial. She waited almost five minutes. the Morse echoes came. code book. She slid the radio onto the dusty work table by the wobbly chair. and paper pad. She checked the position of the aerial – in place against the wooden window sill. In seconds. Denise’s movements were precise. Her finger on the key. It was coming in perfect. The slim woman with the dark. So far. She heard her call sign. She reached in for her British-made Mark II Suitcase Transceiver. and switched the power on. Met reports predicted clear skies through the night.German agents across the North Sea in England. mechanical by now. She lined the frequency crystals to one side. then placed the earphones on her head. **** Firth of Forth It was a bitterly cold evening. She wished she could warm up with it. 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. Hamburg was clear tonight at the usual 7587 kilocycles. to the top of the hour. She took the same creaky stairs to the top floor and loosened the same planks in the corner of the same old master bedroom. she 170 . She waited. The signal should be sharp.
. Too quick for him... and proceeded down the corridor. She jotted down the dots and dashes crackling over her phones. Then again... How ironic it was to him.DLM.DLM.. Since his cafeteria conversation with Langford in August. Nothing for him. He slammed on his brakes in the car park. taking long strides. Hollinger didn’t know and he didn’t care. It ended with Hamburg’s call sign.. if such a term meant anything in this business. The line went dead. got out and trotted along the sandbagged front of the building.began to transmit her three-letter call sign six times with a consistent tap. She sat. He lost his shadow in the downpour.DLM. The message was a short one.. He stopped at the inter-office pigeon-holes. soggy Sunday evening at dusk and drove his MG pell-mell to the office. listening for the reply.. and WE READ YOU LOUD AND CLEAR in code. the shadow probably knew about the call and held back. She tapped out her call sign. DLM. Hamburg gave their call sign..DLM. **** MI-6 Headquarters It was normally called after-hours. He whipped out his MI-6 identification at the door. He laughed to himself.. Hollinger discovered he was being tailed by the same Secret Service he was 171 ..DLM. Wesley Hollinger took the priority call from His Honor at his apartment this cool.
It was great fun losing his tail and making it look like it was an accident because he was a fast driver anyway. “That was fast. Langford had kept her word too. No man could quite clear his mind of Roberta Langford. You’re going to Scotland. And Hollinger hadn’t pressed it. and unbuttoned his suit jacket.employed by. She had put up the proverbial wall between them away from the office. But he didn’t mind.” 172 . Hollinger hadn’t spoken to a soul about Mein Kampf or to anybody about his Churchill accusations since. was hardly speaking to him at all anymore. But not Robbie. why should I be surprised. Langford. using the handrail as support. “And in this rain and blackout. swivelling in his chair. showing his holster and pistol. pipe puffing in his mouth. He hoped. Maybe he could forget tattooed Annie Fannie. He turned into Colonel Lampert’s office. At this hour it was free of secretaries.” Lampert said. Hollinger bounded up the stairs. to the executive section. It was like a game of Cops-and-Robbers. in fact.” “Why? What gives?” Hollinger removed his fedora.” “What’s up?” “Forget Jordan for the time being. He knocked at the open door and entered. “Our sources picked up a message from Hamburg to Denise. There’s a development in this other case. Funny thing. He had tried to clear her from his mind by dating other English women. But that was difficult. As far as he knew. However. outside of MI-6 work.
But I don’t know. He’ll be here in three days. young Wesley. I thought I wasn’t going to be put in the face of danger again. Night low-level drop.” “You won’t. We had to call her out of retirement. It’s been three months since Lancer disappeared.” “Another case for the double cross. codenamed Tommie.” “How many men?” “Four. “We couldn’t. That’s time enough for scars to heal from the surgery.” “And you want me to find out if this Tommie is the old Lancer with a new disguise.” Lampert puffed on his pipe.” “Why me?” “We can’t take the chance on briefing any more agents on this Himmler thing. unlike Hess.” “Sounds like Dunampton all over. yes. I’ll send a few men with you.” Lampert took the pipe from his mouth. The Germans kept asking for her. The Germans have a new agent. The Blue Force.” “You won’t even have to meet him. However did you know?” “I put two-and-two together. We brought her out of mothballs three weeks ago to trap an agent. We’re going to use her again. “You never cease to amaze me.” 173 . the MI-5 Twenty Committee?” “I believe so. That’s precisely what I want you to do.“I thought you retired Denise after the last Hess operation. Operation Decoy.
“Hi. Someone named Harris. At the tables. They were singing. “OK. and Hut Nine.” Hollinger considered the past.“Well.” **** Berlin One glance inside The Pyramid and Adam Eiser knew he had invaded the domain of a homosexual cabaret. Come for some fun?” 174 . It was better than Committee B. Someone tapped him on the shoulder. watching the show. I should let you know that Lawrence’s courier is on the way. and bullied them. This would be a first.” “By the way. Parading on the spotlighted stage were men in a chorus line dressed up like women.” “Do you suppose the negatives will arrive before Tommie does?” “They’d better. men had their hands on each other. “Scary. there. and they wore makeup. Eiser had spied on homosexuals before. somewhere in Vichy. But how do you know it has anything to do with Himmler?” “I don’t. isn’t it. A hunch.” “Damn right. it beats the hum-drum of the office. now you’re thinking like me.” Lampert grinned. But never had he asked them for help.” “Colonel. Two couples were kissing.
“He’s busy.” “I think not. You might have to wait a few minutes. He was gray-haired. Third one on the right. Eiser found the room. His chest was full of tattoos.” the bodyguard said.” The muscle man pulled his arm away.” Eiser turned and watched the crowd and stage show. and a bowtie. In his hand was a drink. crooked teeth.Eiser glared at a portly man about forty. with a thin moustache – like Eiser. After a few minutes. stripped to his waist. “Are you Walter Buhle?” 175 .” Eiser edged through the crowd of onlookers. “You can go in now. Standing at the entrance was a brute of a man with huge muscles bulging from a white shirt. bald. Knock first. “Gestapo Headquarters sent me. Wallace. studying Eiser with a curious eye. Obviously a bodyguard. I want to see Buhle. until he came to the hallway. “Come in!” Eiser flung the door open.” “Very well. a white shirt. a young man about twenty came down the hall and walked past the body guard. A man was laid out on a bed. I’m looking for Walter Buhle. “Not especially. and pounded his fist against the door. “Come on back later. I’ll buy you a drink. He’s in one of the back rooms. with slicked-back hair. Do you know him?” “Oh.” The man pointed. “Ja?” He stuck an arm across the door frame. He was wearing a tuxedo.
He and I were . “Sit with me. He smiled.” “Can’t I? Obviously. because we are a great source of information to him and the Gestapo. I was one of his favorites. close. . I miss him dearly. “Himmler could shut this place down in twenty minutes if he wanted to.” “Deal? What deal?” “Herr Reichsfuehrer will do no such thing. How did you get in?” “Himmler sent me. . friends. “He said you were close.” “I want a favor first.” “What kind of information?” Buhle closed the door. you knew Hess during his early days in Munich.” Eiser pulled out a chair.The man bounded to his feet. were .” “Yes.” Glaring. . . Herr Buhle?” “Many times. . You can’t demand favors.” “Then you shared the same bed. “I asked you a question. “I don’t know you. It turned his stomach to see that Buhle used nail polish. “The Reichsfuehrer said you . birth marks. Is that true?” “It’s possible. I want some information. .” “Then you must know a lot about him. Eiser leaned forward. Military and political secrets pass through here. Physical features.” The man’s disposition changed. you don’t know the deal.” Buhle sauntered to a table in the corner of the room. We have many noted visitors who say things under 176 .
Josie – my dog – died last week. I want my poodle by tomorrow. “A dog?” “A puppy to be exact. “Go ahead. a sneer on his lips. Six o’clock.” Eiser stood up. with a red bow. Bring me a poodle and I will give you your information on Hess. then.” Eiser winced at him. a poodle. Room sixty-four. Blood squirted from his nose. “All right! Tomorrow!” “Bring it to my apartment at the Straumhausser. returning the handkerchief to his nose. Now. at the same time reaching in his pocket for a handkerchief. Sixteen Rhone Avenue. Then we talk. now. “Himmler might not be too happy with you. too?” Buhle removed the handkerchief and checked it for blood.” Buhle scolded. “While you’re at it. 177 . the favor. I want a new one.” “And I suppose you want a specific color. shaking his finger. “That’s not nice.the influence.” Buhle held his nose to stop the bleeding. White.” he said. Do whatever you want. Say.” Eiser cursed. Eiser grabbed Buhle by the hair and smashed his face to the table. “Cross me and you’re kaput. “Now. yes.” Reaching out quickly.” “Get your own damn poodle!” “Forget the whole thing.” he said. his voice muffled by the cloth to his face.
Dammit. Ma’am is quite sufficient. Then out of nowhere. Those Nazi bastards could take Portugal too. not far away. She saw a parked Mercedes across the street from the stuccoed train station. “Yes. Where there were German cars.CHAPTER THIRTEEN Lisbon – November 25 She emerged from the hissing. He respectfully nudged the brim of his black cap and smiled. if they wanted. She saw another Mercedes. She couldn’t wait to change. She felt safe and secure. Do you know where the Empress Hotel is?” “Yes.” “I’m American. I do. They were here. it hit her. black and polished. No one should be paying any attention to her here in warm and tropical Lisbon. her eyes roaming across the foreign faces in the station multitude. smoking train. minus the swastikas and jackboots. ma’am. Senorita. She flagged the first taxi she saw. there were German drivers and German passengers. The car was impressive.” 178 . “You speak English?” she asked the bulbous-nosed Portuguese man behind the wheel.
Blonde. Schmidt slipped an American twenty-dollar bill through the window and the driver’s eyes popped. this Saturn. He had class.” The driver was waiting in his vehicle. sir!” **** She checked into the Empress. sir. The woman – Harris – was one of the first to get off. 179 . smoking a cigarette.“Take me there. She stood out among the dark-haired men and women. She put on her pale-red lipstick. She took the elevator up. knee-length. and slipped into a snug. she undid her hair and let it fall to her shoulders. This was the real Lydia Harris. I’ll give you another one just like it. “Taxi!” “Yes. Five-seven. He looked around and jogged across the street. If he doesn’t lose you. slender figure. whoever he was. Then she showered – the first one in two days. In the room. White blouse. Gray skirt. the most expensive and luxurious hotel in Lisbon. “Follow that cab.” “Yes. please. She neatly placed a broad-brimmed white hat on her head.” **** It was simple for Hans Schmidt. Good man. Hair in a bun. rose-colored dress that revealed her firm. Her room was ready. the rage back home in the States. but stay well back of him. cocked over one eye. There was a carefree American swing in her walk.
and seemed to relax. Harris. “We know each other quite well. David knew it would be difficult for an Englishman taking a train through Vichy. She tossed her hair back with a flick.” “Ah. Call me Ken. “Saturn?” she whispered.” He rushed her inside. we can – come.” “Perhaps we should also be on first-name terms?” “Good enough. The door opened slowly. “A good disguise.” “You’re Harris?” the man said. He glanced up and down the hall. . All he said was – Harris. I suppose. cautiously. . in shock.No more hair-in-a-bun stuff anymore. I see. . . didn’t expect Lawrence to send a woman courier.” She cleared her throat.” And she didn’t expect to see such a well-tanned Englishman. It took the stone-faced man some time to answer. “Who are you?” “I’m . Lydia Harris. A man in shirt sleeves and tie came into view. She knocked at Room 418.” “Lydia. you’re on first-names with him. “Is anything the matter?” “I .” “Now that the formalities are over. “You’re American?” “That’s right.” He smiled. took to the stairs. “That’s me. and trotted two stories up. Can I get you a drink?” 180 . and closed the door.” “I’m Kenneth Sims.” “Come in. do sit down.
Maybe later. Lancer.” “Let’s do it then. Over the terrace. did you?” “No. Under my bra strap.” Sims studied the 35mm negative transparencies against the light of the sunny window. after plastic surgery.” “Your purse? You didn’t keep it in your purse going through Vichy. Eiser! So that’s what this is all about. “There you are.” “Bloody hell. Behind my back. MI-6. The windows were open.” He slid the contents out. How did Shean acquire them?” 181 . the branches of a thick palm tree fluttered. I was told to tell you he is a German spy named Eiser. “Excellent quality. I thought it safer than the front. “I presume that you know who Shean works for?” She nodded.“Not right now. sun-filled living room containing soft wall-to-wall carpet.” “Adam Eiser! Are you positive?” “Yes. “Is that the lot? Three negatives of a man?” “Not just any man.” “I’m inclined to agree. a gentle breeze brushing the drapes. crossing her smooth. long legs. sitting in a comfortable chair. “Yes. David told me his codename.” She opened her purse and handed him a small manila envelope. “When we go for dinner.” She smiled.” Harris found herself in a wide.” “It would be a pleasure. Aren’t you going to ask me what I brought with me half-way across the continent?” “I was getting around to it.
” **** Schmidt slid a crisp British pound note across the counter to the hotel clerk with dark hair and moustache.” “This is astounding. Coming on to three.” The jittery clerk quickly tucked the money inside his pocket. What room is she in?” 182 . and developed the negatives.“A little burglary of a surgeon’s office in Switzerland. blonde. What about you? Where are you going from here?” “New York. I need a good rest.” “Sure.” Sims eyed his wrist watch. “I’ll see you at seven. Never could sleep on trains. “An American woman. by Clipper. “Miss Harris. No. Do you want to come for a ride? See some of the sights?” “No. “How may I help you?” “I need a room number. smoothing his moustache. asked for a room today.” “Yes. “I must go book a flight. thank you. the one who performed the surgery.” Sims jumped to his feet. I know some people in London who’d like to take a look-see at these. then.” He checked the register. about thirty. David got in. for dinner.” “When?” “Two days. snapped pictures without anyone knowing.
After driving five or six miles through narrow palmlined streets. a safe distance astern. Schmidt and the taxi driver waited.“Two-three-eight.” “I know another way. 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. From the other side of the cobblestone street. Schmidt took note. “Let’s go.” Schmidt turned and saw Sims get off the elevator and quickly blend into the crowd. Sims stepped into his automobile and drove away. Schmidt sauntered over to the taxi. Schmidt came to one conclusion.” The first stop was six blocks away.” Schmidt said. “Here he comes. The German calmly looked the other way. “Follow him. “Yes. The cable office. Sims got into his car and left. Get going.” “Another ten American dollars on top of the charge?” the Portuguese driver asked firmly. “He’s heading for the airfield.” said the driver. Of course. Fascinating.” “Then take it. Keep a safe distance.” **** 183 . sir. He started up the engine at the same time that a streetcar passed by them. We can beat him there if you like. jumping into the back seat.
” **** Lisbon Wakened from a deep sleep. and slid out of bed to answer the knock. Tickets! What else? His old MI-6 friend had booked a flight. a plan taking shape in his mind. In an instant. A gasp escaped her lungs. As a British Embassy worker he’d have priority status. she stretched. shoving an envelope in his suit-jacket pocket.” She hesitated. It had to be more than a coincidence. she 184 . “I don’t remember calling for room service. Miss Harris. ma’am.” A man’s voice. buttoning it up. Schmidt saw Sims burst into the British Overseas Airways Office.” “Compliments of the house. To Whitchurch. sending her crashing to the floor. “Yes.Sintra Field Through the glass of the Lufthansa window. She slowly slipped her nightgown over her body. more than likely. Hands lunged out. And this right after sending a cable and a possible meeting with an American reporter. He came out five minutes later. sir. “The Empress. Take the shortcut. “Room service. The door banged her in the face. then opened up. Move it!” “Yes. leaning against her side of the door. He could bump anyone. who is it?” she said. Schmidt returned to the taxi.
You scream. For that she received another slap. “Negatives!” “Negatives of what. A swift knee to her back pinned her. What information did you give Sims?” Another slap came down on her.” A slap across the side of the head. “Don’t move. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed the white sleeve of a jacket and a faint smell of hard liquor. “What?” He drew closer to her ear. above her temple. her arms bent at odd angles behind her back. Don’t look back! I warn you!” 185 . She should have gone with Sims. “What do you want?” she managed to emit through the handkerchief. By herself.” The voice was now distinctly German. Her throat tightened. “That’s not the right answer. Not this way. “Negatives. dizzy from the blows. She was dragged into the bedroom and thrown on the bed. Fraulein?” She shook her head.” she tried to say. “I think you do know. What a fool she was staying here. She tried to squirm. face down. Let’s try again. “What did you say?” He shook her. but the grip grew tighter. stunned her.found herself gagged with a handkerchief. “What information did you give Sims?” “Nothing. Harder. hovering over her. Beads of perspiration formed on her forehead. The sound echoed in the room. you die. She couldn’t see her assailant.
But he had left the room turned upside-down. The rest . A shiny knife slid by her right eye. So had the handkerchief. mouth. If she wasn’t terrified before. . one foot in front of the other. It took all her strength to get herself off the bed. head. Her whole body was one big sore – arms. . managing to move her legs as best she could. wrists. . left . Left . Only what her eyes focused on stayed in focus . I’m going to let the gag go. she hadn’t seen his face. It took her a few moments to realize where she was. She must have fainted. . she stepped forward. But how long was she out? Why had he left her alive? Then again. then got up. she certainly was now. Her head began to spin. . . She tightened the belt of 186 . clothes strewn about. grayed over. Like a drunk. . fell. right . “Tell me who it was or I’ll cut your heart out through your spine. **** She didn’t come to until she heard the pounding on the door. . Her imagination went to work. ribs. Her clothes were still on. . “Lydia!” Slowly. Slice her up. back. . The pounding continued. She was still alive. and tasted blood. . She looked down at herself. . She licked her dry lips. Had he heard someone? Perhaps the real room service.A knee crunched into her spine. right. And that nasty German with the liquor breath had vanished. The beast was going to kill her. she stumbled to the door.” She couldn’t suck in oxygen quick enough. gradually .
Sims first peeked inside.” She opened the door a fraction. “Who is it?” “Lydia. “What on earth!” She tried to smile.” Her voice cracked. stunned to see a red welt on the side of her head and dried blood above one eye.” “The Germans were tipped off. it’s Ken.” “Hotel jacket. giving her a handkerchief. “Who did this?” “I didn’t get a look at him. Disguised himself as an employee. Schmidt. They must have been. I booked a BOAC flight to London.her nightgown. “A white jacket. That’s all. She promised herself she wasn’t going to cry. For tomorrow. and she burst into tears. staring at her.” Then her bottom lip quivered. Listen to me. there.” he said under his breath. He knows I gave you something. The door was unlocked. But he had a German accent. What did he find out?” “That I gave you negatives. though. outside the hotel. “I saw him leave in a taxi. probably. I had better change it to two seats. Her blood ran cold.” Sims saw that the place had been ransacked. Did you get a glimpse of him at all? What was he wearing?” She wiped her eyes and described what she had seen. You’re coming with me. “I complained about the accommodations.” 187 . He doesn’t know what they are. Let me in. she said. then entered. He gently placed his hands on her shoulders. “There. He set her down on a chair. Ready to lock it. I’ll bet. “He wanted to know what it was.
You can stay with me in my room tonight. the poodle had plopped his front paws on the passenger window and never stopped barking.” “I’ve heard that one before. It’s not what you think. That man’ll kill you.” “Do you have a gun?” “Bloody right. I don’t think you’ll want to be seen in public. you probably have. Her side hurt. Try London.” She laughed a little.” **** Berlin Eiser drove his Mercedes to the eight-story Straumhausser apartment building at a few minutes to six. He barked at pedestrians.“But I’m going to New York.” “Not out of Lisbon you’re not. He barked at the traffic. You’ll never last another day around here. We’ll have dinner here. and steered to a side lot. With that lump. He barked at a German Shepherd that was taking it’s out-of-shape owner for a walk. “Yes. “You’re room?” “Don’t worry. anyway. For the entire ride from the pet store. If anybody breaks in. 188 . vermin!” Eiser snapped at the furrywhite runt with the red bow. “Come along. She winced. You’ll be safe there.” She brushed her hand through her hair. and wiped her tears. I’ll shoot first.
I think I’ll call it Rudolf. The poodle growled. Here you go. his left cheek. What was he going to say? Drop your pants? “Anything else?” “Yes. Buhle met Eiser wearing a white shirt and dress slacks. a uniformed Hitler Youth. and it yelped. up from his elbow. Eiser slapped it across the mouth. Why do you want to know this?” 189 . boy. talk.” Buhle took the animal in his arms and patted its ears. Eiser handed Buhle the dog.” Eiser slammed the door behind him.” Buhle put the poodle down and let it scamper around the apartment. Makes my dear heart flutter. Is that all you can remember about Hess?” “Yes. Eiser found Buhle’s room.It growled. and turned away. I really don’t care. his right nostril is slightly crooked. He didn’t think he’d get that close to the prisoner. On the sixth floor.” She nodded.” “If you want.” he said to the woman. “Sorry.” Inside. a loosened tie slung around his neck. Eiser stepped on the elevator with a woman and her ten-year-old son. “It’s yours. “To start with. “Frisky. “Good boy. And several cute moles on his bottom. “Going out. isn’t he?” “Yeah. “Now.” Buhle played with the pup. At least the last time I saw him. Hess has a fairly large mole on his right arm.” Eiser cleared his throat. are you?” Eiser asked “Yes. smiled awkwardly. “Shut up!” Eiser hit it. “He’s not house-trained yet.
” Eiser grunted. lifted its leg. then withdrew his gun. Maybe I’m wrong. But it could be my imagination.” “Pig! What am I supposed to do with a dead poodle?” “Flush him down the toilet. “I hate poodles. It didn’t look like him. His aim was perfect. His jaw. His face somehow.” The dog strutted up to Eiser.” Buhle turned white. and peed on his pant leg. Many years ago. booted the dog across the room. At least. 190 . “Don’t kill him!” “Shut up!” Eiser fired. “Thanks for the information. He turned to Buhle. Can’t quite figure it. the Hess I knew. It’s weird. though.” Eiser grunted. one other thing.” “Are you saying that someone could have been impersonating Hess?” “I’m guessing.” “What do you mean?” “It didn’t look like him. Eiser looked down. He was making a speech. I saw his face once on a news reel.“Can’t tell you. “Oh.
The gap was closing. Advance Wehrmacht units had fought their way to the suburbs. Total victory for Hitler was only one final push away. He could see the spires of the Kremlin through his telescope. The inter-office telephone rang. He reached for it. the Germans were unleashing their forces against Moscow. In his mind’s eye. Hollinger turned up the volume and listened to every word. It was not good news for the Allies.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. Erwin Rommel’s Afrika Korps were thundering towards Egypt and the treasured oil fields beyond. They had taken Istra – forty miles northwest of the Russian capital. Wesley Hollinger put himself in a German soldier’s shoes. On the Eastern Front. Stalin had to be shaking in his boots. “Wesley?” 191 . Was England next? Hollinger still couldn’t bring himself to believe it.
Why don’t you hang about. A whistle. Shades of Lampert. Not a speck of dust anywhere. and waited. You know what I mean?” “Yes. He wondered how he would say it to her. but they were organized into three tidy stacks. “Take-off from Lisbon nine-fifteen our time. She turned the corner.” Later. Then he heard the tap of heels down the hall. Then take your trip up to Scotland knowing what you’re up against. Hollinger walked two doors down to Langford’s office. Flight 725.” Hollinger heard the rustle of paper. Not a pen or pencil out of place. She seemed to be in a great mood for some reason. boss. we can nail this thing down before anything gets out of hand.” “I have a decoded cable in my hand. He reserved two seats for a BOAC morning flight tomorrow. His eyes traveled around the room.” “Hopefully. Her office was the same picture of neatness that she was in personal appearance. that’s all. He sat down in a chair. Due to arrive at Whitchurch around five. colonel. alone. It was Robbie’s unmistakable quick step. She had a smile on her lips and a bounce to her step. and see them for yourself? We’ll have an aircraft ready to fly the negatives to London.“Yes. Today was a good time. Her desk contained many papers. She was still on lunch. Saturn has the negatives. old chap. The file cabinets to one side were tightly shut. colonel. “Fancy meeting you here.” 192 . Swell. Just say it.
” “Oh. The street lamps flickered on on this cool night.” “So am I. tucked close together with barely a walkway for each front property. He drew the shiny convertible to a stop.” **** Zurich The sun set.” he said to the passenger. eight?” “This isn’t another history lesson on Hitler. Robbie. “So. I don’t. I have something to tell you too. . Look. “Three-forty-one. Don’t be late because . You know.” She sat down. I’m busy. . Tonight. Your place. That means talk. “No.“Hi. .” She gave it heavy consideration. all right. Eight o’clock.” 193 . . About . “This is it. dear boy. I can’t take this any longer. come off it. “Not here. The driver wound the top-down Mercedes convertible slowly through the cobblestone street until he came to a series of small. struck a match. “Oh.” She puffed and flicked the match out. We have to get something squared away.” “Whatever are you talking about. is it?” She took a drag. and held it to a cigarette. two-story row houses with dormers.” She walked around her desk. They don’t go over well. talk. We have to iron some things out. “You can bet your ass it’s no history lesson.
“These houses have two bedrooms. Next came the basement. The driver eased the lock open with his skeleton key.” “Right. his associate behind. Speed takes priority. See what she does. She was early.” the passenger whispered. They rummaged through a few boxes and checked the contents within. They heard a car door slam. he locked up behind them. The passenger shook his head. don’t move so much as a dust particle.” The driver nodded.” **** 194 . Remember. He removed his gun from his holster.” the passenger said.” They walked up. Kitchen cupboards. Forget your home manners now. “She’s here. “Up we go.“Let’s get in and out before her roommate comes back. He carefully and quietly climbed the stairs. “Leave her be.” They stood there and listened. Then they heard footsteps right above them. Once in. “Right. Nothing. A night light. The dresser. A living room light was on. From the darkness of the door frame. A drop-leaf desk. he saw a woman walk past the dresser on her way upstairs. The house door opened seconds later. After a few minutes. Nothing. The driver pointed upwards. They started with their search on the first floor. the shower started. The door to the bathroom closed. I’ll take the one on the right.
She doused the lights. looking through a side slit in the blackout curtain.” “Oh. anyway? I want you to see something out here. “Come on! The lights! Quick!” He snapped his fingers.London Inside her flat.” He got up and strode to the window. it’s not that. Sorry.” “What on earth for?” “Trust me. You didn’t swear.” “Blasted! I banged my knee!” She grunted.” He motioned to the window. then stumbled around in the darkness. “Flick out the lights.” “Ah. “What are you doing?” she asked. What kind of mind do you have. He wheeled around abruptly.” She felt her way to the window. “Do tell.” “This is a novel approach. You’ve hardly spoken a word to me except for official Secret Service business. “What do we have to iron out?” “I know you’re still sore at me for my comments about the Big Guy. Langford lit a cigarette and served tea to Hollinger who had arrived a few minutes early. Lift the curtain so I can at least see where I’m going. yeah.” “Profanity never gets one anywhere. What is it?” she asked. “What’s the trouble?” 195 . “Good girl.” “I don’t think so.” “Not in the least. “Ouch!” “Hurry up. I’ve forgotten them.
Do I have your word a second time that you don’t know anything about my being tailed?” “Yes! I swear to God. He could smell her hair and fragrant perfume this close.” 196 . Up from my MG. She sauntered towards him. someone must’ve overheard us.” “Do you really think MI-6 is tailing you?” “Positive.” “All this time? Three months!” “You betcha. “Ever since our little talk in the cafeteria. I told you not to talk so loud.’s. down there? The beat-up one?” He held the curtain open for her. “Why would I know?” She sounded sincere to him. I didn’t know. “Which one?” “The dented Morris. then. She saw several Mr.” “I see it.” She stared at him.” “Well. Across the street.” “What for? Who is he?” “I thought you might know. She let her eyes grow accustomed to the inky night.“See the Mr.” “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. So?” “The bloke in there’s tailing me. I’ve been shadowed.
my side and your side have the same common goal. . eyeing the street.” “No. The smell of her perfume. .” “Yes. You do it by fighting. the warmth of her body so close. “What?” She looked into his eyes.” “Fun? Everything is fun to you. I guess. He couldn’t help himself. The receiver is on top of the ceiling light. someone . Fight Hitler.” “Reasons! That’s why I didn’t want to say anything in your office. why do you keep working for us?” He shrugged in the darkness. must’ve had his reasons. He desper197 . We accomplish it by staying out of the war.” “But when it comes right down to it.” “I see.” “There’s something else I want to iron out. His President’s words were ringing in his ears once more. If that’s the case.“OK. . they wouldn’t have gone to the trouble. An analyst’s assumption. . Would they?” “I – I don’t know what to say. They were face-to-face. Maybe I was on to something. She had posed a good question.” He was closer to her now. What do you think of Churchill and the Judge and the boys now? If I was way off with my political accusations. My office is bugged too. just in case they bugged your office too. It’s still fun. How do we know the British aren’t holding anything back? “I don’t know. Save our own butts. I believe you. His heart pounded in his chest.” “Good gracious! Well .
What happened to your aversion to redheads?” He shuffled forward.” “Too bad. she shoved off. “I love you.ately wanted to say a number of things. She was responding. He wondered how he had waited so long to kiss her.” “That so? You certainly had a strange way of showing it. until. She struggled for a second. although clumsily.. After all these months. Her lips were soft.” 198 . but he couldn’t find the words. “Robbie—” “Back off. She tried to speak. the clerk with the Union Jack on her tush. He kept kissing her. her breath sweet. From the moment I saw you at Bletchley. Her arms slid around his neck and strong shoulders.” “Who?” “You know. . . stepping back. cowboy. then gave way. Breathless. but couldn’t. then took her in his powerful arms and kissed her with fervor and purpose.. complications. They were heartbeat to heartbeat. He let go of the curtain.” “It was?” “Yes. Robbie. He felt her body crushed to his chest. now. Yes!” “Yes?” “I mean. One kiss lingered long. your gun was stabbing me. ’cause you kiss even better than Annie Fannie. “Stop it!” “Why? You don’t like fast men?” “No. the way he hoped she would.” He felt he had to tell everything. despite a slight scent of tobacco. You’ll be interested to know there’s .
it seems I was a day too late letting you know my intentions. Not yet.” She lifted the blackout curtain to show him. One day short.” “Sorry. She didn’t answer. He kept his distance.” “How do you know he’s not a German spy?” “Good Lord! He’s a fighter pilot!” 199 . the room returning to the dark shadows.” “Oh. But he gave me this engagement ring.” “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. That officer – the fighter pilot – you’ve been seeing.” “Yes. “Engaged? When?” “Yesterday. Him. He received a new posting to Banff.” His voice trailed off. “So. yeah.” “Well.” “So he had to get it off his chest before he left.” “Who the hell is Alex!” He tried to keep his cool. Scotland. have the two of you set the date or something?” “No. Him.” “Yes.” She released the curtain. He’s leaving next week.“What complications? What’s up?” “Alex. Just that I’m with the Secret Service. He paused. it was. We thought it best that we announce the engagement now. That’s why she had been whistling. Probably thinks I’m a secretary. “Oh. “Is that what you were going to tell me tonight?” “Yes.
. rub it in. no sense hanging around where I’m not wanted.” He found the switch. Oh-nine-hundred. boss. It was like fumbling on the oneyard line. handing the fedora to him.. Got the day off.” His shoulder smacked the wall. “Son of a—!” She laughed again. He smiled. I’ve had enough excitement for one night. “Thanks. “Well. “Where are they?” “Straight ahead. I gotta go. “There. The kitchen light snapped on.” Hollinger saw no point in loafing about any longer.” Langford joined him at the door.“Anyone can be a spy. thinking of the woman he had in his arms only moments before. Ever see him fly?” “Well . sure. “Remember? No profanity. Now he was walking away from her.” “Watch yourself. This was crazy. She laughed. On your right. no.” He made a move for the door and banged himself on a chair.” Langford grinned. “Good hunting. “What’s so damn funny?” “I think it’s safe to turn the lights back on. Toodaloo. Be careful. “Going into work tomorrow?” “Of course.” He donned his hat.” “Yeah. Good night. “Well.” she said.” “I probably won’t see you until you get back from Scotland. why don’t you.. .” she said. I won’t be.” 200 .
except for a little blush at the door. excited. After a few minutes he saw Richardson by his bedside. ones that the prisoner had trouble answering. and pushed him away. she put her fingers to her lips. Richardson asked many questions that day in May. gently. She pulled it off. **** 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. On this occasion. He took her by the arm. Schubert promised himself to be more polite. He was a strong man. If she could. Did he mean it? But she must think of Alex now.Their eyes locked. riding the emotion. What was he going to do? There were two guards outside his door. closed his eyes. Why was he eating beef and chicken? Where was he born and when? How many 201 . savoring the moment of passion. After closing the door on him. Where would he go? The prisoner laid his head down on the cot. Armored glass had been fitted to the windows in October. He said he loved her. mindfully attempting to regain her dignity. Her body was still warm. He recalled the last time – the Tower of London. She touched the ring on her finger. She had done a good job of looking unaffected. and pulled the covers up. These British were peculiar people.
” **** 202 . The first in nearly five months. catching a name.” **** New York City In the closing hours at Kerr.” “Yes. Why don’t you answer me?” In the hall. Vern motioned to his partner. How nice to see you again. I have come in peace. “Richardson.” “Really?” Vern and Henry listened at the prisoner’s door. throwing off the blanket. “More paperwork in the youknow-what file. sir.” “You’ll hear from Smith tomorrow morning. Don’t you recognize me? I am Rudolf Hess. “I’ve no idea. In German.” she said.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. “Come here!” “W-what’s the matter?” “Hess is talking to himself again. Aris Palini made a long-distance call to Washington. Bill. Let me go now. Chapman & Company. “Mr. “Who’s R-R-Richardson?” Henry asked.
Harris appeared in her nightgown. he looked down at the bright lights of the intriguing espionage capital of neutral Europe.Lisbon – November 26 Unable to fall asleep. “Yes. Where war had reared its ugly head. Through the open French doors. By this time tomorrow. Home for nearly two years. crowded with soft-colored houses and shops.” “Can’t sleep?” she asked. He heard a sound and turned. It was after midnight. “No. the moonlight falling on her long.” 203 .” she said. In the darkness. Then he tiptoed through the French doors to the terrace. Another world away. softly. combining with the lights to outline the city’s terracotta rooftops. The stars were flickering overhead. clean and bright. some hundreds of years old. A cool breeze drifted in from the ocean – five miles west – and swept across the city. From this point. “What a view. The moon was up. swaying the nearby palm branches. careful not to wake the sleeping beauty in his bedroom. shivering for a moment. Hope I didn’t wake you?” “I couldn’t sleep either. This was his Lisbon. he saw the narrow streets of the old quarter winding like a maze up the Sintra Hills. blonde hair. From the fourth-story iron rail. Sims got up from the couch. he quietly poured himself a scotch from the liquor cabinet. he’d be in London. He threw on his robe.
it is. “Wooh. Miss Harris. An awkward silence came over them. Thugs. “Cheers. “I will.” “Yes. It reminds me of the Swiss. A warm scotch.” He returned with her drink.” “Yes. “However. and a piano playing from a distant bar. Wicked.” “I’m not budging. “Nice place. She sipped and coughed. It’s Lydia.” “Don’t go away. straight up. and Churchill’s inner circle. They value their neutrality.” “I told you before.” “Cheers. singing. it does have a criminal element. Colonel Lampert. They heard laughter. “And spies hanging around. “Thought this might do the trick.He held up his drink. Can I get you one?” “A Doctor Sims remedy for insomnia?” “You might say that.” “Yes. “MI-6 is a closely-knit family.” Sims answered her.” 204 .” “Don’t mind if I do.” she said.” They sat in the metal armchairs and placed the drinks on the iron table.” He heaved a sigh.” Sims thought of London. Lisbon.” She tossed her hair.” he warned her. bookies. Lydia. the underground. “I’ve kind of grown to appreciate its climate and its people.” “Drink slowly. they certainly do that.” “How did you get started in your line of business?” “Recruited by a friend of my father’s.
I live in Switzerland.” “Good. You can’t go through Vichy again.” “Well. And they sent word to Schmidt here. giving time for Sims to admire her stunning features in the available light.” “Somebody knew you had brought something with you. They could arrest you as 205 . Americans aren’t suspects.” “Until now. full lips. In all probability. high cheekbones.” “That’s right. you know. Her wounds from the attack had been treated. Go ahead. I know these people.” “What got you started as a courier?” “David. Something gave you away.” she protested.The two grew quiet. the Gestapo did come aboard the train twice in Vichy.” “Must have been one of those times. “And—” “I know. Gestapo Headquarters is putting together a file on New York Times correspondent Lydia Harris as we speak. I work there. Your boyfriend. and the swelling on the side of her head was covered by her hair. “It doesn’t hurt anymore.” “But I’m coming back in a few weeks. David. She turned to him. German agents will follow you the minute you return to Europe. She was attractive even now in the semidarkness – flawless complexion. With my country neutral. She saw him looking at her a shade too hard. May I ask you something?” “Why not.
” he told her. Where have I heard that before?” “Robert E. We should grow too fond of it. His father 206 . They listened to the sounds of the city that didn’t seem to go to sleep. It is hell. his mother’s side. He makes your blood curdle. “What makes him so important?” “He’s a legend in the German intelligence service. What did one famous person once say. And your Embassy couldn’t do a damn thing to release you. Harris pulled her nightgown tighter. ‘War is hell. “It’s dangerous now.” Sims respectfully tipped his head at her.” She sighed. During your American Civil War.’ Same war. “Sounds familiar. This is war. A killer.a spy. by the way. He’s half-English. “Who’s Eiser?” she asked.” “That’s an understatement. I have crossed paths with him.” “Where?” “Before the war in England.’” The breeze blew at her hair.” His answer was firm.” For a full thirty seconds. “Point taken. I know. neither Harris nor Sims said anything. The Germans enjoy war games. She went quiet. Lee. ‘It is well that war is so horrible. “And didn’t General Sherman once say. taking a swallow. taking a smaller swallow of her drink. He was a spy for the Germans. “You think so?” “I know so.
But what can we do in Portugal? Switzerland’s the same. Spies run wild. With them. He moved his chair closer. It squeaked.” Her voice was shaking now. But he slipped through our fingers. you’ve got it made. then he’s undoubtedly ready for an operation either on neutral soil.” She leaned back in the chair. I was in a hospital for weeks. a place where his old face would be recognized by us. I won’t let you out of my sight until we’re aboard our flight to London.” “That’s horrible.” “I’m scared.” “Why can’t he be stopped?” “If this was England. the sandbagged buildings. Promptly. He threw acid on one of our men.” “Don’t be. or North Africa.” 207 . He’s learned a lot in two years on the other side. The Secret Service in London must have those negatives. the rubble.” he assured her.was German. three of us from the Service were ordered to arrest him. we would do something. the smell. “He won’t try anything again. and stabbed me in the chest. we can arrest him the minute he steps on our home soil.” “If you can take the blackouts. the rations. In August 1939. “Of Schmidt?” “Yes. “What’s London like? I’ve never been there. or even England. If he went in for plastic surgery. Most don’t.” “But at least I lived to tell about it. or in Malta. He could be coming home to roost.
” “You don’t know for sure if it was him. He bent over and kissed her slowly on the forehead. The kiss of a protector.” “That’s true. I know a great restaurant in Piccadilly. Just consider yourself fortunate he didn’t kill you. “Don’t worry.” 208 .” “You don’t say. like an innocent brother-to-sister kiss.” “A toast. Lydia.” She lifted her glass.” “The Portuguese authorities won’t do a bloody thing. We’ll be celebrating in London tomorrow. “To London. by jove. dulling them both. To London.“But he assaulted me.” The alcohol seemed to be taking hold. You never saw his face.
and coffee together at the hotel dining room. 209 . with red. Then they took a taxi to Sintra Field. They set their luggage down on the warm concrete opposite the BOAC terminal. white. Perfect day for flying. served by staff in starched white coats.CHAPTER FIFTEEN Lisbon They woke a few minutes after seven. pulled themselves together. and blue identification stripes on the long wing. Two countries at war with each other – England and Germany – so damn close. A small aircraft took to the air on the far runway. eggs. and consumed a breakfast of ham. It was a sharp sunny morning. not a cloud in the sky.” Sims said to Harris. The twinengine Douglas DC-3 passenger airliner near the gate appeared sturdy enough to make the flight. The aircraft was painted in an overall pale blue. “There she is in all her majesty. as she eyed their mode of transportation. It had large black letters on the rear fuselage – A-GBLL. It unnerved Harris to look over and see swastikas on two airplanes through the open doors of the Lufthansa hangar across the concrete.
” “Thank you. the cut of their clothes giving them away as the privileged of society. France The base CO. by the look of them. “FINAL CALL FOR BRITISH OVERSEAS AIRWAYS FLIGHT 725 TO WHITCHURCH. The others were two Spanish couples with money. the loudspeaker voice exploded. “You take it.” she said. ENGLAND. Six others were Jewish refugees.” Harris wished she was as confident as her English friend. 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. He offered her the window. Sims said that he knew three by name – all British Embassy officials. She took a seat with Sims over the starboard wing. Outside. ENGLAND ARE REQUESTED TO MAKE THEIR WAY TO BOARDING AT GATE TWO. “THOSE PASSENGERS ON BRITISH OVERSEAS AIRWAYS FLIGHT 725 TO WHITCHURCH. Harris noted the other passengers in the cabin. but she didn’t want to look down once they were off the ground and over the ocean.” Sims smiled and pointed to the terminal’s main door. They boarded. 210 . Major Ernst Jodel.” **** Near Nantes. “After you.The loudspeaker blared with a British voice.
experienced Messerschmitt BF-110 pilot of 16th Staffel. He pondered his telephone receiver. **** Major Jodel looked up as Hauptmann Albert von Reiden reported. both interested in the Whitchurch-LisbonGibraltar flights and other related information that passed through this side of the continent.” “You wished to see me. decorated with the Iron Cross 2nd Class during the Polish Campaign. He and Schmidt had an agreement. he had made more than forty reconnaissance sorties over the Bay of Biscay. “One of the BOAC flights has departed from Lisbon. Major Jodel would call upon von Reiden. Hauptmann von Reiden. Top Secret. Hans Schmidt.” Jodel cleared his throat. Kampfgeschwader 50. They shared intelligence on the diplomatic line. there was no love lost between the men in black and the Luftwaffe. Herr Major. “At ease. destination 211 . Fifteen minutes ago. Odd. But this flight had the makings of an international incident. In most cases.It was from his friend. They saluted in unison. For such a mission. for it was in the form of an order. But he trusted Schmidt. Jodel wasn’t accustomed to taking orders from the Gestapo. In minutes. To date. he received his answer. Only one option was available to him – telephone Schmidt’s business office in Portugal for verification. Jodel wanted to know why Berlin had not authorized this.
Drained of energy. shoot it down. “Why are you standing there? Dismissed!” Von Reiden clicked his heels and withdrew.England. It’s markings are A-GBLL..” “But. Over a pot of Hollinger’s strong American coffee. Orders from Berlin. And to top it off. Dismissed.” “Mein Gott! Shoot it down? But. **** MI-6 Headquarters Still half-asleep. Alex was crazy about her and said he couldn’t live without her. This had carried on too long. her mind and body were in disarray. but contented. She had been up for most of it with Alex. her forehead was pounding from a headache that had started soon after arriving at work. 212 . She couldn’t pretend. so sometime before dawn she finally told Alex she didn’t love him. Herr Major?” “No.” “Yes. Roberta Langford felt lousy this morning. It had been a long night. but. Herr Major—” “Identify it and shoot it down! And don’t leave survivors.. I want you to take four fighters with you and intercept it. discussing their futures. She surprised herself. dejected. Shoot it down.” “Do you wish me to escort it to France. Langford had to do something. He left. they talked of Banff. She was exhausted. A great burden had been lifted from her. That’s all.” There was no movement on von Reiden’s part.
Anywhere. Then she was called into Headquarters in the morning. The note.” “Yes. I am. Really. We are.” She cupped her forehead in her hand and closed her eyes.There were no tears.” “I’m fine. bound for Whitchurch. “OK.” She opened her eyes. Spencer. A cafeteria bench or a corner in her office. please. after three hours sleep. straightaway?” “Don’t see why not. “Are your people certain?” “Oh. How is boring old Bletchley?” “Hot! Where’s Lampert?” “He’s expected in at any moment. “We’ve just intercepted a Falcon File message sent from Lisbon to a Luftwaffe fighter base in western France. It couldn’t have come at a worse time. Robbie? You don’t sound yourself. Anything wrong. wishing she could lie down.” “Can you pass him a high-priority note. Her office phone rang and she answered it. British Airways Flight 725 out of Lisbon. yes. Go ahead. “Still there?” “Yes.” “That’s absurd! Why would the Luftwaffe shoot it down?” 213 . Her thought patterns were still in slow motion.” she said slowly.” “Right you are. This is Spencer.” She slowly pressed the button on her phone. “Robbie. is going to be shot down in flight. massaging her temple.” “Let’s scramble on this one.
” “Never you mind. “Do you mind?” Langford grabbed it back. stumbled out of her office. At 4. the air pockets bounced the DC-3 around.” “You mean the Germans would actually shoot down one of our passenger planes? That’s unheard of!” “I know. “Now what do you say?” “Flight 725! Why that’s the one we’re waiting for.” she said.” She reached for her high heels by her feet. “What are you doing here?” he asked. “I’ll get on it. and saw Hollinger traipsing through the hall. The pilot took the machine up another 1.000 feet and the turbulence seemed to feather out.” Langford scribbled down the information. but that’s how it comes out. slipping her second shoe firmly in place. bending down. “Thought you weren’t in today. And the airliner is already en route.” “Why don’t you keep the darn things on?” “Where’s Colonel Lampert? Have you seen him?” “Yeah.“I don’t know. 214 .” He grabbed the sheet from her hand and read it. mister.000 feet. I saw him drinking tea in the cafeteria. What’s up? What you got there? Let’s see.” **** Over the Atlantic The flight north was far from smooth. “There.
. “Do any German aircraft come out here?” “Quite often. about eight hours. They won’t try anything. It’s over a thousand miles to Whitchurch. But we can’t do that. “Relax.” “How long will this take?” “Altogether . ooh . “But they know we’re here. .” “Will this thing make it? It whistles from one end to the other. The Luftwaffe haven’t 215 . The Germans knew they were making this flight.” “That goes without saying.” Sims said to Harris in the seat beside him. Harris recalled the close proximity of the BOAC and the Lufthansa hangars and offices at Sintra Field.” Once more. Lydia. . They take one look. Got to take a wide berth around the continent.” “They do!” “They track our courses. “Everything’s going to be all right. see that we’re civilian.” He raised a hand.” She didn’t feel comfortable with that. As the crow flies would have been quicker. So there’s a long time yet. I’m told. and scoot back to France. . “Of course.“Settle down.” “Eight hours!” she replied.” “How close do we get to France?” “We miss the tip of Brittany by a good hundred miles. BOAC takes to the air along this route nearly every day.” “The DC-3 can fly around for half a day without refueling.
000 RPM. . staying clear of the spinning propeller of the sleek twin-engine twoseater.” Sims frowned. Two ground crew yanked the chocks free of the wheels. “I suppose I should’ve said something before. Von Reiden reached up and snapped the safety lever in place. sometimes. held them there. “Now you tell me.” She tried to cheer herself up. von Reiden pointed down. She looked down to the floor to the brown leather briefcase – the diplomatic pouch where the negatives were tucked. LEUTNANT?” “READY WHEN YOU ARE. “Oh. “ARE YOU READY.” “What are you talking about?” “I get airsick .” She turned to Sims. HERR HAUPTMANN.” his navigator behind answered.” **** Near Nantes The ground crew chief slid the BF-110 canopy closed and clambered off the wing to the tarmac. then dropped 216 . Why would they start now? If they did. Von Reiden revved the dual Daimler Benz V-12 powerplants – two thousand horsepower at his command – to 2. He pressed the intercom button with his gloved hand. . The DC-3 hit an air pocket and she held her breath.tried anything before. we might start shooting Lufthansa planes down. Closed in. I knew I shouldn’t have eaten all those eggs. then strapped himself to the seat.
READY FOR TAKE-OFF. The Luftwaffe knew it as the Zerstorer – Destroyer.them to idle. HERE. STAFFEL LEADER. Von Reiden swerved his fighter around.” The five gray-blue camouflaged Messerschmitt BF110’s pulled out of dispersal in a disciplined follow-theleader fashion. into the stiff wind. halfway down the 217 . They snaked their way to the longest runway. He looked through the windscreen to the flopping windsock.” “RED THREE. He pressed his R/T.” “RED FOUR. He’d take off by himself.” Von Reiden ran through the routine. two minutes apart. Blue flames spit out the exhaust pipes. DO YOU READ?” “RED TWO. He had set down the rules in preflight. The BF-110 was his baby. “RED STAFFEL LEADER TO TOWER. facing west. HERE. They squealed.” “PROCEED. He pressed a switch on his right to give the wing twenty-degree flap. He pressed his radio transmitter button. The others would bring up the rear in pairs. STAFFEL LEADER OUT. manufactured by Messerschmitt to wage war on German enemies to National Socialism.” Von Reiden was satisfied. he revved his engines until the raw power screamed in his ears.” “RED FIVE. STAFFEL LEADER. “PROCEED. Left hand on the throttle levers. “STAFFEL LEADER TO RED FLIGHT. He applied the toe brakes. RED STAFFEL LEADER. He had been flying them since the war began.
Then he released the brakes. He turned to his side and raised his thumb to the navigator. The hydraulic action pulled the wheels into the belly with a thunk. A strong force was at play. Von Reiden applied hard rudder to prevent swinging in the early stages. Von Reiden sighed when the wheels left the concrete. Laden with fuel. A thousand yards of beige-white concrete stretched out over the nose. Lift-off. ammunition. The fighter jolted into motion. He pressed the undercarriage switch.000-pound Messerschmitt was off. 218 . and two men in bulky flying gear.runway. building up. The wheels thumped over the concrete sections and cracks. combining with the lift under the wing. Von Reiden advanced the throttles to his twin engines. the 12. The end of the runway appeared ahead. ahead-left. Then the props caught the airflow. The windsock came and went in a flash. Tail up. She gained speed slowly for the first few moments.
examining the end of it.” “Absolutely not. We can send our fighters to intercept the German fighters.” Lampert pleaded. They’ll know we have broken the code.” “And what is that. Well. the photographs. Colonel Lampert tilted his smoking pipe towards him.” 219 . Besides. “It’s already in the air. sir. sir.” “But. haven’t you set a trap for him?” “If it is him. The C-phone conversation with Churchill wasn’t what the two of them had anticipated. “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. then there’s one other option.CHAPTER SIXTEEN MI-6 Headquarters Langford glanced at Hollinger. colonel?” “Once the aircraft gets into radio communication with Whitchurch. we could order them to return to Lisbon.
“You know what I mean?” “The son-of-a-bitch!” Langford swallowed hard.” “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. we might have been able to do something. They’ll all be killed!” Langford shot a look at Hollinger. I imagine. “The time when it really counts. He shook his head at her. I don’t want you referring to our Prime Minister in that 220 .” “But.” He stared at Langford. stiffly. the only other option is to—” “Let Flight 725 get shot down. sir. Someday you’ll see that I’m right.” Lampert hung up. But it’s my decision. Hollinger sprang from his chair. There’s no secret code between Whitchurch and its pilots.” Churchill sighed. this is a hard decision. glazed look to his eyes. a sorrowful. Ours not to reason why. “Anything we do will be suspicious. “Seems so. Goodbye.“Nothing doing. Mine alone. the strain of the decision telling on him. She could sense a slow burn in him. “If we had gotten the message before he left. The Morse Code would be intercepted by German controllers. “Wesley. “How dare you.” “Sir! There are twenty people on it. aren’t they?” Lampert stared past the American.” the colonel said. “They’re dead ducks. Colonel.
The Germans know what we have. her voice low. you mean. Wesley. but there was nothing she could say.” Lampert answered Langford’s next question. Lampert shook his head.” “They’re mostly our people. We can’t have that sort of thing. you only need to think on this matter for a moment to understand why he decided the way he did. Besides.” “Oh. that sure as hell makes me feel better. Not . Too dangerous.” Langford saw Lampert look to her for support.” “Well. He left prints in the care of his girl friend in Zurich. We’re saving it for the time when we’ll be able to save hundreds and thousands of lives. “Tell that to the families of the twenty. just twenty. “Perhaps we can we obtain another set of negatives?” she asked.tone and using that language. . Breaking into the plastic surgeon’s a second time is out of the question.” “A fence-sitter. She agreed – partly – with Hollinger. as I recall.” “Didn’t our agent in Zurich make photos from the prints?” “Yes. “Afraid not. Miss Langford. in a sealed letter. They’re on to us. How many died there?” “You’re non-partial in this war. And don’t forget Coventry. 221 . “I contacted Shean about that very thing. Not yours. really?” “Yes. Stay out of it. . Wesley.” Hollinger moved closer to Lampert.
I’ll need it. something awful. . head down. One day .” “Let me have a go at talking to him.” He scuffed out of the office.” “Thanks. He wasn’t God. slamming the door behind him. tired.” **** 10 Downing Street A few miles across London. It was on November 14. sir. Wesley. sir. Lampert shrugged. but he was playing God. as you can see. some day people 222 .” Hollinger snapped.” He looked at her with fatherly eyes. her place was ransacked. Now BOAC Flight 725. Tears of anger filled Churchill’s eyes. Damned if we don’t.” Hollinger said. “Excuse me.” “Swell. “You had better go to Scotland. The image of Coventry in rubble the year before had come to his mind many times already. Coventry was bombed. “and see who this blasted Tommie is.Trouble was.” “Then we’re up the creek without a paddle. “Good luck. He knew the logistics of the situation only too well. He’s a wee bit bothered. Prime Minister Winston Churchill fidgeted quietly in the depths of the dingy War Room. . But Churchill could take no action.” the colonel said. The British cipher agents knew what was coming. Doesn’t see our point. The prints have vanished. Poor devil. “Damned if we do.
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. “I’m not in the mood. smiling.will thank him or at least understand why he had to make such decisions on who lived. lifting a glass of dark-brown liquid to his mouth. Just trying to be friendly. What do you think you’re doing?” she asked Hollinger. “My word.” “Who bit her tail off?” a slurred voice in the group said. and she shouldered her way through the young men. beneath a picture of the King of England. firmly. What you doing later?” “Piss off. then finally said. eyeing her. A fire was hissing along the far wall. A group of airmen watched Langford walk in. sitting on the barstool next to him. One of them – nursing a drink – stepped forward. his fedora on the counter. “I bet you were.” she said. “What the hell does it look like?” 223 . and who died. The place was half-full.” “OK.” He gave way and let her pass. “Hello there. Hollinger tried not to hear. flyboy. and smelled of stale liquor. red.
“You do?” He swung to her.” “That’s better.“Oh.” she said.” He sighed. exhaling cigarette smoke. I agree with you about the Portugal flight.” “OK. I’m not in his shoes. “Yes.” “I feel quite up to the challenge.” He put the glass to his lips.” “What is that you’re drinking?” “Stout. And neither are you. One of those self-inflicted cases? Planning to get drunk?” She lit a cigarette. Right now I want to enjoy being miserable. “Good etiquette certainly isn’t one of your strong points today. actually.” “That’ll be quite the achievement considering you have the whole day ahead of you. “I would have sent either an escort out or fighters to intercept the Germans. “Let me guess. “Imagine. But I’m not the Big Guy.” “Serious misgivings?” 224 . we sit here on our fannies while innocent people bite the bullet in a matter of minutes. then. The worst thing I ever tasted. She nodded.” He belched.” “Do you like it?” “No.” she whispered a few inches from his ear. Excuse me. Good and slobbering drunk. If it’s any consolation to you.” “Nice speech. I dunno. I’m getting out of this God-forsaken business. I might even close the place. “I’ve had it.
Goodbye. two young people who had to grow up awfully fast for 225 . Get some fresh air before this gets out of hand. “Like Hess defecting. “Look.” she advised Hollinger firmly. Maybe I’m developing a conscience. Don’t walk so fast. “Let’s go for a walk. the air stank of exhaust mixed with a damp mist.” He tilted the glass and drank heavily. Habit of mine. “Well.” he said. Wesley.” “I see. The gesture seemed to identify them as comrades.” She saw the airmen looking at them from across the pub. bitterly. stop your moaning.” “Sorry.” In the street. And while you’re at it.“Yes.” He drained the rest of the glass and grabbed his fedora. “Slow down. boy? I think you’re downright gutless. You mean quit?” “Yep.” “Moaning?” “Can’t hack it. “Good idea.” “Me gutless?” He shrugged. and sliding her hand in his inside his greatcoat. Going AWOL. Not here. “Up and quit?” “That’s what I said. Charlie. and trying to warn you people of what’s coming. Wesley. maybe I am. You deaf? Should I draw you a map?” “Don’t get your knickers tied in a knot.” Langford surprised Hollinger by throwing away her cigarette.
” “But we don’t. for now.” “Does this mean you’re available?” “Shut up.” He removed her arm to look at it. “I could use a friend. thrust into an unfair uncompromising world of politics and classified documents. He’s out there somewhere. Don’t look around. Nothing. Do we?” “Nothing. Please. We both did.” “Right. “Don’t take it as anything else. I don’t wish to talk about it.” “That’s the second time. I mean. you’ve used that word today.” “What about the shadow? What if he should get the wrong idea?” She shrugged. “Hey. “Piss on him. Do we?” “Oh.” 226 .” she said. don’t press it. His skin felt warm. no. no ring?” “It wasn’t meant to be. “I didn’t think you cared.” She returned her hand to his coat pocket. We need time to think. though. But how did you decide so quickly? Last night—” “Please.their ages.” “Who called it off?” “I did. He’s going to squeal to the Judge that we have something going. Forget it. finding his hand. I’m just cold.” “You’re kidding. Put some breathing space between us. or are you suddenly feeling sorry for me? Wait a minute.
” Hollinger said. Churchill has to do what’s right for the majority of us.” “You kept a secret for me.” He decided to back off. What I’m about to tell you is Most-Most Secret. if there is such a thing. All right!” They strolled shoulder to shoulder. We are. a sign.” “Sounds like you know something I don’t?” “I know a lot that you don’t. “Besides. The United States is not at war with the Japs or with Hitler. remember?” “Yeah.” She poked him in the side. Lampert will have my head if he finds out I told you. Something. your President knows how it is. With Hitler. each probing for a dent. “Didn’t you know Intelligence is a dirty business? Did you think it was going to be easy and straight-forward. “Don’t quit. play by the rules?” “No.They looked into the other’s eyes. I remember. 227 . “All right. Believe me. You worked on the Japanese code.” “Only until the end of the year. I guess not. there should be. Coventry. “You sure you don’t want to talk about it?” “I’m sure. so it’s about time I returned the compliment. Let’s walk. and Flight 725. It’s a different world here. stride for stride. You won’t like some of the decisions made at higher levels in Washington. Neither knew what. He did it with the Hess case. If there isn’t.” she said.” “Your background before coming to Britain was the side of intelligence as seen through the eyes of a neutral power. You’ll see the difference if your country gets into the fight.
Anyway. Fred Noonan. She claimed she saw a woman fitting Earhart’s description in Japanese custody there. “You’re familiar with Emelia Earhart?” she began. What was his name?” She prodded him along until they picked up the pace once more. A block later.” “Accidentally on purpose?” “No. It was a real accident. pulling her hand out of his coat. “Me and half the world. surrounded by bushes. “With my clearance to the MI-6 file room. Let’s take a turn through it. shall we?” They didn’t exchange a word for a few minutes. And she claimed her aircraft was shot down within sight of Saipan. “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.“There’s a park up ahead. The government used her roundthe-world flight as a cover for her to photograph Japanese military installations in the Pacific. 228 .” “Did you know she was spying for the American government?” He stopped. they were strolling through the park’s winding paths.” she continued. “Spying!” “Earhart and her navigator.” Langford continued.” “Yes. I stumbled on the paperwork. “Noonan.” “Says who?” “Two months ago. abruptly. a Japanese seaplane base on the island of Saipan.
Some say we still aren’t. “To quote someone I know. In 1937 your country was not ready for war. We weren’t ready. Probably not. The MI-6 agent took the information to the American Embassy at Hong Kong. but how do you know Earhart was spying?” “The woman said the Japanese found aerial-photo cameras aboard her aircraft.” 229 . Noonan was beheaded. If he tried to rescue her.” “I guess you’re right.Earhart left the island in Japanese hands. what’s the point?” Langford stopped him with a tug on his arm.” “Yeah.” “All hush-hush.” “Huh?” “Figure it out! Your President Roosevelt knew she went down inside Japanese territory but couldn’t rescue her or demand her return.” “The President?” “’Fraid so. Whether she’s still alive is only speculation. yes. Not by any stretch. “Bloody right they do. you don’t know a snitch’. The White House. The full details.” “So.” “Does my government know what happened to her?” Hollinger asked. he could have started a war with Japan. Alive. huh?” “Oh. Washington. Quite. ‘for a smart person. And from there it went all the way to the top.
It’s tough at the top. Don’t quit. “Cheer up. I can feel it.” “Remember. “Robbie.” “Yeah.” She took in his stare without a blink. Your country needs people like you. mysterious eyes.” “Wild horses couldn’t drag it from me. You’re being groomed for something bigger. He had wonderful. then he would be admitting she was spying.” They stopped walking. “OK. Your COI is just starting up. She liked what she saw. “Yes.” “Will I?” “Yawohl. squeezing his arm.” he said.” “I still don’t like it. keep the information to yourself.” “Now. This is your training.” “But think of the bigger picture.” “You think so?” She nodded. doesn’t this situation remind you of Coventry or Flight 725?” Hollinger realized there seemed to be some merit in what she was saying.“If he demanded her back.” “We’re drones. I follow.” “Robbie?” 230 . Wesley. You’ll get used to it. “Welcome to the real thick-skin world of intelligence. Twenty people heading to their deaths. I guess. Now. back to you. even for Iron Asses. Kind of like a scout for the rest.
Maybe I should have called him a prick.” “Forget it.. Wesley?” “I still.” Grinning. until he looked away.“Yes. “No.” 231 .” “What?” “Forget it.. he said. “One other thing. We both have work to do. you’re right.” “No?” She shook her head. “Yeah. Wesley?” “Yeah?” “You shouldn’t have called the Big Guy a son-of-abitch in front of Lampert.” She smiled at him.
Twice.” She glanced at her watch. Suddenly. she opened her eyes and sat up. The sky was bright. five hundred yards off starboard. She was a goodlooking woman in her brown jacket. A glare caught her eye and she pointed. Harris was slouched in her seat. She had been out for over an hour. “I say. then turned to his companion. They were on a parallel course with 232 . matching skirt. Her eyes went to the window.” he laughed. sleeping beside him. “Look.’’ “I guess you did. her hat covering her face down to her nose. “I guess I fell asleep. her head bent at an odd angle to her right. “Did I snore?” “No. as other passengers saw the five twin-engine fighters in a V-formation. She blinked once. company’s dropping in.CHAPTER SEVENTEEN Over the Atlantic Sims glanced through the square window at the solid mass of peaceful blue ocean. and long legs under clear nylons.” He saw them too.” The cabin came alive.
NOW. yeah. watching the ME-110’s peel off. What did I tell you? They’re turning away. As a BF-110 expert. It wasn’t until they came within one hundred feet that the passengers saw the stenciled fuselage numbers.” Harris leaned back in her seat. I call it scared shitless!” **** Von Reiden pressed his R/T. the crosses. Like the Polish Front in 1939. the first to bank right. “Just coming for a little look-see.” Then he led the way. She was no 233 . Everything’s under control. “Yes. and shoot the DC-3 in the back.” **** Von Reiden looked over his left shoulder to see his flight forming up. “Germans!” Harris uttered. “Thank God for that.” “Oh. FOLLOW ME. my dear. AGBLL. Checking us out. He saw the passengers in the windows. the blue-gray paint scheme. “They won’t give us any ruddy trouble.the airliner. **** “See. and two men per aircraft. His plan was to come out of the sun in a dive.” Sims said. Germans in ME-110’s. keeping pace with him. BREAK STARBOARD. We call it diplomatic immunity. he knew the machine’s capabilities. the sun reflecting off two canopies.” Sims said. “STAFFLE LEADER TO RED FLIGHT.
000. across the firmament. nose up slightly. climbing. leveled out. RED TWO AND RED THREE BREAK STARBOARD WITH ME.. . . GUNS READY. careful not to stall his fighter. The DC-3 was a speck in the distance.dogfighter. “STAFFEL LEADER TO RED FLIGHT. OXYGEN ON.” “RED THREE. At 10. He watched his altimeter dial . The Battle of Britain proved that. FIRE AT WILL ON MY SIGNAL. the sun behind him. RED FOUR AND RED FIVE BREAK PORT. The slipstream whistled over the canopy.92mm machine 234 . But she could take a tight turn when need be.000 . The speed quickly built up. CONFIRM.” Von Reiden flipped his mask in place. 7. . and throttled back. he finished the bank. 6. “STAFFEL LEADER TO RED FLIGHT.” “RED FOUR. DO YOU READ RED FLIGHT?” “RED TWO. She had limited maneuverability at medium and high speeds. I READ YOU. . He banked in a tight starboard turn. UNDERSTOOD. blending into a shrill. . The Spitfires and Hurricanes could fly circles around her. He found it unnatural.000 feet . And she could dive like a screaming eagle. His right thumb went up the control column to the firing button.” “RED FIVE. making it hard to believe they were in the midst of a war. 8. UNDERSTOOD STAFFEL LEADER.000 feet.” Von Reiden pushed the control column forward and advanced the throttles. . It was a serene day. Connected to the button was the live ammunition of four nose-mounted 7. STAFFEL LEADER..
Within firing range. Six hundred yards and closing. This wasn’t supposed to happen. one shell stabbing Sims in the arm. **** Windows shattered and glass splintered along the length of the plane. A second salvo of bullets – a longer burst – riddled the aircraft. hurling both of them to the deck. What the hell was going on! The Germans had never attacked a passenger airplane out here. then to the deck. He collapsed to the seat. the BOAC pilot was desperate to pull the aircraft out of the dive. “Here they come again!” someone shouted. A few more seconds. **** In the cockpit. unconscious copilot. larger by the second in the reflector sight. . Sims threw himself over Harris. He pressed the button .guns. “No ruddy trouble. his aim was trained on the target. The DC-3 loomed up ahead. The pilot cut the power to the starboard engine and feathered the prop. . “Stay down!” Sims scrambled to the now-punctured window beside him. “FIRE AT WILL!” he belted into the R/T. eh?” Harris reminded Sims. It would be a turkey shoot. The flame 235 . The noise was thunder to his ears and the cockpit filled with the stench of burnt cordite. The wind was roaring through the cabin from a gaping hole flapping next to his bloody. The starboard engine was on fire.
flinging the passengers across the deck. “Can you swim?” “A bit. 236 . oblivious to her own danger. She stepped over two bodies. Salt water was pouring into the cabin. trailing black smoke. “Yes. The airliner was sinking fast.” They both took a deep breath. sir!” **** In a glide. Just. Then she broke and cleared the rest of the glass in the nearest window. sputtering.extinguished itself. “Heave ho. faltering. “Good enough. She grabbed the injured Sims and helped him to the opening. Harris tried not to panic. sir!” “Send an SOS to Whitchurch!” “Yes. she removed her jacket and wrapped it around her arm. Harris and Sims found themselves three seats up the aisle. How could this be? Why had the Germans opened fire? “McMillian?” he yelled to his terrified wireless operator. But it was still running. With the chilling salt water at her knees. Think clearly.” He did just that. girl. the DC-3 struck the water flatly. Kick off your shoes.” he sputtered. The cabin quickly began to fill with water. The port engine was leaking oil. nose up.
.. then followed to get free. she turned. She kicked and dove headfirst for the safety of the fuselage. Low. laboring. . The smell of gas and oil pinched her nostrils. flipping her long. but his words vanished into the engine and gun racket. jostling furiously to the surface outside. When she returned to the surface. .. Shivering and treading water. There was no protection. She popped up in the sunshine. Two. The German fighters broke away and were swooping down at them. Debris bobbing everywhere. Only four people – so far – had escaped the plane. and two other men. .With the water over their heads now.. . A few feet above the water. Plunk-plunk-plunk-plunk. the bubbling spouts sped towards her. She saw the red blinks . She heard engine noises. wet hair to one side of her face. kicking her feet. .. she saw Sims floating in the middle of an oil slick. . “Ken!” 237 . breathless and squinting. except to. she pushed him through the window with all her might. They were close enough for her to see the black crosses and swastikas. she swam for him and shook him. Sims. her lungs feeling the pressure. Closer . and the line of strafing bullets peppering the water. Sims tried to say something.. closer . looked up. Bang-bang-bang. Gasping. “Dive. everybody! Dive!” she yelled. She waited several seconds.
Soon. One more. Not again. she felt a terrible sting in her 238 . She kicked. No pulse there either. She swam to the nearest one. the wing would be all that was left afloat. banking. Two more were winding out of violent dives. Pulling herself together. Shivering. She felt his wrist for a pulse. Bang-bang-bang. Blood and pieces of her friend’s brain – the thickness and color of thick porridge – covered his matted hair. His nerves twitched. She dove under water for the wing. Nothing. she glanced around for the other two. following the first two. The top of the agent’s head had been blown clear off. Two fighters were skimming the water.. Bang-bang-bang. She vomited.It was no use. she fluttered. 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. She swam for the other. Blood covered them both. A few feet short of her destination. They were floating a short distance away. by itself. lining up for another attack. she swung her body around. 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. forty feet away. Was she the only one left alive? She saw that the wing had separated itself from the fuselage. riding the swells. the last spasms of life in him..
Bang-bang-bang. She tried to spit it out. The sea water in her cuts hurt something awful. Her right thigh was aching. In every direction – nothing but miles of open water. slipping in beside it. They banked – all five – and made another pass.right thigh. She poked her head up. Now she was getting seasick. If they hit the wing she knew it would go up in flames. They didn’t see her. Her whole body was numb. guns pounding in short bursts. allowing the lashing swells to rock her. One chunk of wing poked slightly out of the water. It was no use. 239 . For a time. Then all was quiet. She struggled to haul herself from the water. An oppressive taste of salt hung in her mouth. This time they didn’t shoot. It was there to stay.. She saw blood on her right arm. Or else they would have fired. Still underwater. She was spared.. catching her breath. She had taken a shell. Oh. The engine noise carried across the water and faded to a distant buzz. The second line of fighters roared directly over. She spread her arms out. falling onto the wing face down. Once. and she tucked under it for safety. Airsickness was bad enough. Only mere feet off the water. she lunged her way to the wing. please don’t let a bullet hit the tank. God. She lay there. At last. all Harris could hear were the fighters’ engines in the distance. Twice. The wing was warm from the sun. Very low. breathing strenuously. Or both. Or sink. they were gone. but she shivered uncontrollably. hanging onto the side. Bang-bang-bang. Thank God.
. What were the chances? Didn’t Sims say they were at least a hundred miles from shore. sir?” she asked. “It’s done. “Thank you.Where was she? She tried to keep her head up. Quote – WE’RE BEING ATTACKED BY ENEMY AIRCRAFT. Nazi shore. What was that about . diplomatic immunity? **** MI-6 Headquarters Lampert jotted the information on a pad of paper. who had just arrived with some Enigma intercepts from the Russian Front. “It’s time like this that makes me want to retire early.” **** 240 . although she already knew the answer. hell. Land.” “It’s over?” “Appears so. looking down at his sheet. . LOSING ALTITUDE.” “What do we do now?” she asked coldly. too.” He sadly put the telephone receiver down and stared at Langford. “What. “Whitchurch received a Morse Code signal from BOAC Flight 725. to look for land. The transmission went out before they could give a position. grimly. ONE ENGINE ON FIRE. “Send an air-sea rescue to see if anything or anybody’s left. He folded his arms.” He sighed.” he said.
whoever you are. She was a self-contained aircraft. It had to be Himmler. and the navigator compartment were wide and roomy.” “I hope you will sleep well tonight. There was no evidence. a sufficiently-stocked food locker. Today. a mound of modern medical supplies.” “A most unfortunate incident. “Yes. 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. it appeared they had come up empty-handed. “Major Jodel?” “Yes. and extra blankets for the crew’s airsea rescue work. I will sleep well. Let’s just say I’m an associate of your friend in Portugal.Near Nantes A bad phone line from Berlin crackled in his ear. Is that satisfactory enough?” “Excellent. Who is this. who is this?” “Berlin. an electric hot plate. It was successful. She was the long-range PBY. Goodbye Major Jodel. Nevertheless.” The major felt a lump in his throat. please?” “Was the mission successful?” “I said. the flight engineer post. Astern lay two double-decker bunks.” **** Atlantic Ocean The cockpit. Once-keen 241 .
ONE PERSON ABOARD.and intense eyes were now tired. The navigator got his fix.” “HERE. IT LOOKS LIKE THERE IS. SKIPPER!” “BY GOD. THERE’S SOMEBODY DOWN THERE. “YEAH. The sun was sinking and they were too close to France – Nazi territory. “PILOT HERE. eyeing the glint of metal through his binoculars. “STARBOARD BLISTER TO PILOT!” the sergeant in the center hatch bubble shouted over the intercom. and gave it to the pilot over the intercom. “PILOT TO WIRELESS. they had patrolled in northto-south strips. SKIPPER. I SEE IT. GOT THAT?” 242 . He made one pass at five hundred feet and looked straight down.” “SEND A MESSAGE TO WHITCHURCH. starting from the west. The pilot pushed on the throttles to the dual engines high on top of the wings. No Kraut U-Boats either. STATUS. executing a bank to the right. SIGHTED WHAT APPEARS TO BE THE WING OF A DOWNED DC3 IN SEARCH SECTOR FOUR.” The pilot flicked the intercom button on his headset. nothing else. There was a lot of sea. NORTH-NORTHEAST. Under four-tenths cloud at ten thousand feet. “I SAY. entered it in his log.” “I SEE SOMETHING THREE POINTS OFF THE STARBOARD BOW!” the sergeant exclaimed. STAND BY FOR COMPLETE EVALUATION IN A FEW MINUTES.” he acknowledged in his headset. UNKNOWN.
he swept low on another pass. Harris was conscious of men’s voices as they were handling her. she mouthed a weak. Climbing aboard the floating wing. the man knelt over the woman. Downwind. jumped into the water. Her right thigh had a large bloodstain. It was weak. Harris lay on her back. and splashed into the water a few hundred feet from the wing. . her head cradled against a rolled-up blanket under her neck. soaked through her skirt. She blacked out. and swam a few feet until he found a woman in a white blouse and brown skirt. Through cracked lips. but pumping. The sergeant left the hatch. who were now stripped to their waists and drying themselves off. she looked up at two men. Voices . She was face down. her clothing pasted to her body. He came around. “Thank you. reeking of salt and oil. . SKIP. He waved for help. The pilot advanced the throttles and lifted off the water surface.” The pilot descended at the rate of two hundred feet per minute in a tight circle. “Give me a hand. reduced power and speed. Then he applied power until he was alongside the piece of metal.“GOT IT.” he said. She’s alive!” A second man jumped into the water. “Easy with her. It’s a woman.” to her rescuers. He gently reached for one of her sunburned arms to check her pulse. and then came to when they gently moved her into the Catalina and wrapped two thick blankets around her chilly body. The 243 .
“You’re safe now. “Her pulse is stronger already. He checked her arm. She was flooded by a dulling warmth for the first time in hours. gratefully. running his hand through his wet hair.” “You’re not kidding. You took a bullet did you?” “Yes. Sitting up. “Don’t worry. straight from a thermos.” “Let her sleep. “We’d better look after that wound you got there. “All in a day’s work. and passed out from the pain in her thigh. He took back the coffee and held it for her. soon as we get into shore. The whole sickening episode filled her thoughts. ma’am.blankets wrapped over her were working. . ma’am.” one man said. .” The man smiled.” “Thank you. But she could only utter one long sigh. Thank you. this chain of 244 . a thousand miles north of Tokyo.” he said.” **** Tankan Bay. Then she closed her eyes . Japan An ocean away.” With tender hands. thawing her out. she pressed her fingers around the cup before drinking from it. Looks like she had a rough afternoon. and she tried to open her mouth to say more. he gave her a mug of hot coffee. Shrouded in clammy fog most of the year. She accepted. She smiled and swallowed. the Kuriles lay between the Japanese mainland and Siberia. too.
aboard the carrier. scouting for the fleet. Nagumo’s next order would be to wait on a final coded message from Tokyo. in the pre-dawn of the 26th. Six carriers. or he would turn back to port. undetected. the battleships protecting the rear. cruisers. Eight tankers. Akagi. The remaining five destroyers held a course several miles ahead. Either he would maintain his eastern course at thirteen knots.fifty bleak and volcanic Pacific islands had seen snowflakes in the air for several gray. Nine destroyers. a Japanese Task Force had steamed into Etorufu – the largest of the Kurile Islands. wintry days. Then . They meant business. Ships of all other nations were to be boarded and their radios seized. Thirty-one ships were deployed. So there they lingered for four days. The fleet was under strict radio silence. Three submarines. Vice Admiral Chuichi Nagumo. Their orders from Tokyo had been explicit. . and British vessels encountered along the way were to be fired on and sunk. and four destroyers secured the carriers’ flanks. The submarines. Two battleships. American. This massive unit of men and machinery was directed by Commander in Chief of the Japanese First Air Fleet. One light cruiser. Any Dutch. a second set of orders came. The carriers steamed in two parallel columns. Two heavy cruisers. 245 . Stand by. On November 22. . The Force weighed anchor and slipped out to sea in dense fog.
“Nothing surprises me lately. Donovan had the photos in his hands. – November 27 It was a cool morning in the capital when Smith and Colonel Donovan once again conferred at COI Headquarters.” Donovan told Smith. more invisible ink 35mm shots through a red filter of I. Filberg contracts. Silsoner’s Equitable. “And they’re using Kerr. these are some of the biggest banks in the 246 . compliments of Aris and Smith.” Donovan admitted. too? Why am I not surprised?” Smith sat in a chair. son. Sit down. Henry Silsoner was at the meeting.” “Me neither. turning in his chair. Clever. “Three more New York firms. Loeb and Company. the big boys have bobbed to the surface. sir.S. Trust Company.” Donovan said.C. “National City Bank. “So.CHAPTER EIGHTEEN Washington. Both owned by the Rockefellers. Read and Company. Aris was right.” Donovan flipped through the shots. D. Chapman & Company to hold the paperwork. “Thank you. a Morgan bank. Kuhn. Hell. Dillion.
what they are doing is perfectly legal. and who knows what else.world.” Donovan stared at his white textured ceiling. A hundred feet opposite the door. . and strode slowly across the concrete towards the opening. and forged past the steel and wire gate. the sun falling on the nose of the JU-52 transport.” “I know.” The driver put the car in gear. ball bearings. Filberg for Hitler’s war machine. twenty minutes of daylight remained.” “The annoying thing is.” Donovan found his way to other glossy photos. The wide door was open. “Thank you. Himmler and Eiser got out. we could be going to war with these people. At best.S.” **** 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. All sending millions to the Nazis through I. He steered for the second hangar on the right. the pilot smoking a cigarette. “It’s just . “To help the Nazis build fighter and bomber planes. 247 . .” he snapped to the driver. sir. tanks. The crew were alongside the fuselage. at stiff attention. “You may proceed.
” They proceeded through the hangar door. I’ve worked on that. taking the information in.” “Yes. this Jordan fellow. head down. I was badly injured – burnt – at Dunkirk with the medical corps. “The weather calls for clear skies.” “Make sure you establish a rendezvous return with Denise once you make contact with her.” Eiser nodded.” “Very good.“Our Greenland station reported in. Eiser. Return quickly. my doctor ID. “Do you have everything you need?” “Yes. The lot. cloud later over the North Sea.” “I am at your service.” “Passwords?” “Committed to memory. Herr Reichsfuehrer. Do you have a good alibi for him? He will want to know where you’ve been for two years. coldly. It’s all in the medical bag. and blazer attire marked him as a common Englishman. War Office pass. turtleneck.” 248 . Your next assignment awaits you. Herr Reichsfuehrer. to such a degree that I needed plastic surgery on my face. His fedora. Writers have their own grapevine.” “Yes. Ration book. Himmler smiled. lethal injection. hands behind his back. “Good luck.” Himmler said. Herr Reichsfuehrer. a colleague is bound to. so that she can radio Hamburg for a return flight.” “This man in London. English paper and coin currency. Can you trust him to give you what you need?” “If he doesn’t know. Herr Reichsfuehrer.
“Why did you have to shoot Buhle’s poodle?” “It peed on my leg.” “Spoken like a true Englishman.” **** East Coast of Scotland The three-engined Junkers JU-52 transport was the most durable aircraft in the Luftwaffe aerial arsenal. Herr Reichsfuehrer. Eiser. Eiser. “Positive. Crete. Are you absolutely positive no one in England knows my new face?” Himmler’s next thoughts fell upon the BOAC flight out of Lisbon. sir. “Don’t flatter me. Although poky and bulky.” The Gestapo leader lifted his head. Without her. the JU-52 had a distinct feature that allowed her to be a valuable piece of machinery in spy operations. Tell the truth.” “Yes.” “Oh.Himmler wondered if he was that loyal.” “Just a tad. Tunisia. Due to her double-wing 249 . You like the money and benefits. the Nazi invasions of Norway. Himmler glanced down at the concrete. “One other thing.” “By the way. and Russia would not have been successful.” They stopped under the wing of the DC-3. and his conversation with Major Jodel.
250 . The fog had engulfed Denise.construction of full-flaps and ailerons. The last thing the pilot wanted was to be sent off course. opposite the grass airstrip. The weather reports were wrong. Under a low ceiling. This was going to be difficult – but not impossible – at night with radio silence. she could land and take-off in only a few feet of space. Schnapps helped there too. When the unmarked JU-52 carrying Adam Eiser left the Hamburg airstrip at sundown. the sky had been clear. Only the glow of the four fires spaced in a line twenty feet apart were visible more than three hundred yards across the field. their two cars hidden in the bushes. Wesley Hollinger stood poised with the Secret Service men of Blue Force. He had flown in worse conditions on the Russian Front. The pilot kept an eye out for RAF fighters and Coastal Command twin-engines. Now cloud appeared over the North Sea. he continued undaunted. Then came an unexpected fog once the transport reached the Scottish coast. flying on dead reckoning and bare wits. all armed with automatic pistols. **** On the tarred road. Then a moderate crosswind picked up. A shot of schnapps from the bottle he had in his boot helped. merging water and sky into one mass. his training ground for such missions. Max.” Hollinger said. “She’s getting worse.
Then . “You know. . covering the flame with his hand. **** Adam Eiser peered over the cockpit seats at the orange and yellow-lit instrument panel. Then take care of him. the man with him. Identify him. **** Denise buttoned her coat to her neck and edged closer to one of the fires. not bothering to glance back. “Still on course?” Eiser asked. the other side was freezing. England. he was returning to the country of his birth. And be rewarded.” “I do. Typical late November in this part of Scotland.” “Sounds to me as if you know this Eiser fellow. Inform Hitler of Himmler’s treachery. I forgot. and to a welcoming committee of one.” “Oh. After a two-year absence. They were losing this war.” He sighed. Poor misguided Britain. We . I can’t figure out why he’s coming back. yes. Confront him. Find the prisoner. return. . Hess or no Hess. no sign of the fires. Smoke?” “No thanks. 251 . He mulled the mission over in his mind.” answered Max Preston. go back. She turned around. One side of her was warm. Badly. “A real Scottish pea-souper. . Ahead.” The Englishman struck a match. A damp coldness had invaded the lowlands tonight. . Never took up the habit.“Seems so. At least there was no wind. The copilot nodded. The altimeter read four hundred feet.
all right. That was not good. She couldn’t see the Secret Service men through the ever-thickening fog. clear of the flight path. Hollinger and Preston glanced up as a thundering silhouette made a pass overtop in the foggy darkness. tugging at his fedora.her backside to the flame. Then he banked and leveled off for final 252 . the pilot made a necessary visual of the field. **** On the ground. He banked right to line up to the left of the fires. Which meant they couldn’t see her.” The pilot didn’t reply. Time to anti-up. “That’s it. Then she heard the rumble of engines. **** At an altitude of fifty feet.” replied Preston. “I’d know that sound anywhere.” Three Secret Service men stepped out from the cars in the bushes. British engines didn’t sound like that. She ran for the end of the field. Preston stamped out his cigarette. the length and width now imprinted on his mind.” Eiser said. **** The JU-52 copilot pointed to the glow. “Is that her?” “She’s a JU-52. “Nice going.
In seconds. The pilot pushed back on the column. squatting down. carrying a small piece of luggage. “Look out!” the copilot shouted. “How are you doing back there?” the copilot asked Eiser. telephone wire. He eased the stick forward. The engines noise rose and the aircraft took to the air in only a few feet. and the holster inside his shirt that contained the instrument he called “the shaft”.approach. a gold-plated ball-point pen that with one click turned into a knife with a thin. An image formed. Heil Hitler. He caressed the small steel acid capsules in his left blazer pocket.” Eiser picked himself up. He looked down at his carrying bag. **** She watched the transport airplane make a perfect landing opposite the farthest of the fires. three-inch-long blade. I am. total silence once more. Good luck. and spun around.” “Sorry. I’m not sticking around any longer than I have to. The German airplane bounced to the end of the field. burning away through the mist. running the few feet to the center of the fires. 253 . The fires were dead ahead. Eiser fell backwards on the deck. “Having the time of my life. Get yourself to the hatch. He flew over what appeared to be a clump of trees.
“Only on Sunday. I know the innkeeper.” She tended to the flames by grabbing a shovel and digging up pieces of turf and snuffing the flames out. stopping short ten feet back.” “Of course. “Let’s go. “I have my car waiting. Hurry.” the woman replied. and smoothed his hair.” “Tommie?” “At your service. Denise?” “Yes.” “Likewise. He removed his fedora for a moment. “I’ve booked a room for you. Just the way I remember Britain. Your name is Floyd Hogan.” she insisted. “Where to?” he asked. looking across at her in the front seat. We’d better douse the fires. calm yourself. It’s horrible. she thought. Pleased to meet you. Act normal. “A country inn about four miles from here.” she said.” “Fair enough. Denise. After that. Her mind was spinning. I hope you know your way in this soup. He will notify me of your return.She ran for the image.” “Heil Hitler. Either the man was very good with an English accent or he really was English. Careful. Heil Hitler.” Denise turned the ignition of the Vauxhall parked off the narrow tarred road. This way. you’re on your own. He placed his carrying bag by his feet. I will then make the arrangements for your flight to Germany. “The blackbird flies after midnight.” 254 .
She could not drive too fast. Creeping. Her hand went for the door knob. She slammed on the brakes. Slower. He grabbed her by the hair and twisted. “Why are you slowing down?” he asked. But the man anticipated the move. She had driven him to Dunampton aerodrome. In an instant. 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 talked with him. Then Hess escaped the base and crashlanded – shot down – near Glasgow. Out of the corner of her eye. What is the matter?” She needed a comeback. The man in the hat and sunglasses – Rudolf Hess in her car.” she said quickly. Denise. She slowed down. The bait to lure one more German agent. Now this. She drove on.She laughed nervously. “I can’t see. The blackout headlights – only two small beams – made everything worse. She had taken the wrong road – the south road – and messed up the rendezvous. she could see Tommie’s head turning to her. “You are jittery. The crossroad was coming up. As she strug255 . her thoughts went back to the May sub drop in daylight. her heart raced away on her. In a panic. his tone unfriendly. She turned the wheel and pulled the small black vehicle onto the bumpy road. They passed the old cemetery on the left.
and ran in the opposite direction to where Denise had been taking him. she felt a liquid thrown against her face . . Then the muffled scream. the engine running. Hollinger – on the driver’s side – probed the inside with his light. falling to his knees. he took to the grassy edge of the road. reaching for his knife. Not to be heard. he turned to the left. They split into two groups and walked around the front of the car. twice. “Come on!” Hollinger hollered. They advanced on it. Like falling into the flames of a furnace. crouching low. 256 . **** Pistols drawn.gled. the men ran in the direction of Denise’s piercing cry for help. Hollinger flicked on his flashlight. jumped a wet ditch. A painful. **** Eiser leaped from the motorcar.” Eiser uttered. After a few hundred feet. **** They heard the rumble of the engine first. it burned something awful. She screamed. Everything went black. The headlights were on. She couldn’t see. . stinging burn. and stumbled across a weeded field. No one. They saw the Vauxhall in the middle of the road. “Amateurs.
He must’ve known we had laid a trap for him. And he’s starting early. “Acid to the face.” “True enough. He’s back.” “But obviously still effective. “He has to be the luckiest man on earth!” Preston’s outburst surprised Hollinger.” “Yeah. Preston nodded.” “So it is him. Preston kicked the car. Dammit all. I think you’re right. bending over her.” “He doesn’t like much of anything. though. It’s a different kind of cut than I remember. “Unfortunately. Bloody throat. lately.” Preston shook his head. “Only one man kills like that.He opened the door and Denise’s body slid headfirst to the road. Mr.” “Eiser?” asked Hollinger. There’s no way of sealing off the area. Lucky bugger! I’m afraid we’ll have to wait until morning. “The colonel won’t like this.” In a fit of anger. Less bloody. Where he left off. Hollinger.” “Quite so. “What are we waiting for? Let’s find him.” 257 .” Preston grunted.” Hollinger agreed. “In this soup? We don’t have a prayer.
Thirty minutes later.” he said. the young American appeared.CHAPTER NINETEEN MI-6 Headquarters – November 28 That afternoon. He was steaming. The Judge left word with his staff that he wanted to see Hollinger the minute he arrived in the building. sir. “Yes. Never! He’s roaming about free somewhere and we don’t know what he looks like.” “Eiser never should have gotten away.” Hollinger sat silently.” Lampert puffed on his pipe.” Hollinger complied. And on top of that he speaks an excellent English. drumming his fingers on his desktop. “All hell seems to be breaking loose. doesn’t it?” “You’re telling me. “No. Wesley. We don’t know his cover. He was still tired from his trip up north. we don’t. or why he’s back. And why not? This is his home turf. ready to explode. He knows his way around. “Sit down. “Any word from Preston?” “Nothing! Eiser vanished.” 258 .
I suggest you get over there on the double and ask her some questions. What’s with you and Langford?” “What do you mean?” “Getting a little chummy?” Hollinger recalled the walk with her in the park. me? I don’t like redheads.” Lampert hung up. Thank you very much.“Yes.” Lampert lifted the receiver. Line two. Colonel Lampert here.” “Right. American. “MI-6 has a good source at Guy’s Hospital.” “Someone actually survived?” “Yes. Doctor. there was a new development. Maybe. We had her flown into London. Guy’s Hospital on the telephone. are you?” “Who. Margaret. While you were gone. “I wonder what they want?” “I’ve been expecting them. the colonel glanced over at Hollinger. Who’s business is it?” “You’re not sweet on her. “Yes. “Hello. She refuses to give her name or say anything until she speaks to someone from her Embassy. I will.” 259 .” Lampert composed himself and stared at Hollinger.” Listening.” “Thank you. “I dunno. “Yes. Margaret?” “Colonel. A woman. Don’t let your Embassy get a hold of this. it is. “Guy’s Hospital?” the American asked.” “Another thing. Lampert flicked a switch. Flight 725 had a survivor.” The intercom buzzed.
wondering if this was going to be another alert for one of the knotheads tailing him. “Wesley Hollinger. run along.” “On what?” “Who you are?” He flashed his ID at the blonde.” “Then you’re not from the Embassy?” “Nope. devoid of makeup. 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. “Good afternoon. She was sitting up in her gown.” “COI? The American spy agency?” “Not so loud. And it’s best they stay out of this. Her eyes were glassy.” Hollinger said.” Hollinger stood. Your fly’s open. “How do you do?” “May I talk to you. her face flushed.” 260 .” “Huh? What do you mean?” “Look down. sir?” “It wouldn’t be proper for you to meet her like that. faraway. COI. her hair tangled. “It depends. removing his hat. and Wesley?” “Yes. we want to keep this out of the papers. I’m sure she’s scared enough as it is. What’s more. “Oh.“Now. her arm bandaged.
“All right.” “How’re you feeling?” She coughed. May I ask why you were on the flight?” “I don’t know if I should answer that. a friend of a friend I know in Switzerland.” she replied reluctantly. considering I’m the only survivor of a passenger plane shot down by German fighters. So. How the hell do you think I’m feeling? Pretty damn rotten. I work in collaboration with MI-6.” She hesitated. are you?” “That’s right.” 261 . We’re both on the same side. ma’am.” “Really. I flew over with an Englishman from Portugal.” “Who for?” “New York Times in Switzerland. I don’t remember doing it. I gashed my arm somehow.” “Why?” “Classified.“That so?” “Yes. ma’am. “Correspondent.” “American intelligence. But other than that I’m great.” “Yes.” “Trust me.” It was plain to Hollinger that she was in discomfort. “OK. “I took a cannon shell in my thigh and I was unconscious for about half a day. what brings you overseas?” “I’m a writer. eh? In London? What gives here?” “Let’s say I’m observing for Washington.
We were attacked.” Hollinger felt a chill of goose bumps forming on his arms. The plane struck the water. I really don’t want to talk about the details. but was shot by the fighters in the first pass.” “That’s understandable. Everything happened so fast. It’s just . Lydia Harris.” “Ken Sims. everything’s been going wrong lately.” “Where are the negatives? We’ve been waiting for them.” “Welcome to London.” “They went into the drink with everything else. by chance?” “Yes.” “Shit! Oh. She rolled her eyes. Put them up to the light a couple times. The only thing I could think of was to get out. . I am. glanced at them. Sims made it too.” She hesitated again. “Yes. .“What’s the name?” “Who?” “The one in Portugal. if you please.” She nodded back. The man in Switzerland wouldn’t be David Shean.” 262 . “You! So you were the one flying with him. “How do I know I can trust you?” “You can. . Did you look at the negatives? What can you tell me about them?” He withdrew a notebook and pen from his coat pocket. Let’s have it. .” “Sims had them in a briefcase. . Miss? Mrs?” “Miss.” “You must be the courier from Zurich. that . . Harris. “I . excuse me. concentrating.
” “Those Germans don’t miss anything. It’s hard to tell with negatives.” “No they don’t.” “What do you mean?” “Your house in Zurich was ransacked while you were away. that’s all I can recollect.” “You guys are on the ball. ma’am.” “I want you to know that I have prints. then opened wide for the 263 . “One last question. “We or me in particular?” she mumbled. “And how are we feeling today?” She held out a thermometer. “And as far as you’re concerned. Mr.” “It’s a start. “I can’t really say. Flight 725 had engine trouble. Got it?” A nurse entered the room. Hollinger.” “Someone pretty high up the ladder had to authorize it. yes.” “Not any more.“Anything!” She took a breath. Some big wheel in Berlin. right?” “Right. Shean said the prints were nowhere to be found. Did the Germans shoot our plane down just for those three negatives?” “It appears so. Harris looked at Hollinger oddly. Was my roommate hurt?” “They never touched her. Miss Harris.” “Anything at all? Any identifying features?” “A moustache.” He looked towards the door.” “Dirty business.” Hollinger turned for the door.” “You’re telling me. I won’t say who.
” he said. Accent.” “I’ve something you’ll be interested in seeing. How do I get there?” 264 .” **** London Daily Telegraph “News Desk. “Just leaving.” The nurse glared at Hollinger.” “Who are you?” “A friend of Jack Buford. She took it.” Jordan had made one excursion already to that part of the country and wasn’t looking forward to another. “Good idea. adjusting it under her tongue.” “I want to talk to Stephen Jordan. “Speaking. “Where’s that?” “Five miles south of Motherwell.” “What in particular?” “Not over any telephone line. Scottish.” Jordan lowered his voice.” “I see. on the road into town.stick of mercury. “That’s a long bloody way. uneducated.” “Meet me at the Orkney Inn. Wait’ll you hear the Cockneys. Before the nurse could respond. sir.” The voice was coarse. Hollinger said. “It’s another language this side of the pond. ma’am.
then proceed to siphon a few gallons. He knew how to run boats. assuming he was still there. All signs were removed in 1940 under the threat of a German invasion. Train to London. Every Scottish and English village had a pub. Anything that could float across the Channel or North Sea.“Here’s the directions. he had to find a can and a rubber hose. Finding petrol had been even tougher. He didn’t know where he was. A surprise visit with an old acquaintance. Hotwiring the auto had been easy. black Hudson saloon. His plans had changed now. Denise was a trap. Boat. He swiped a bicycle and followed a set of rail tracks into a village. Fishing trawler. Wide-eyed – Eiser hadn’t slept for a day and a half. He 265 . He couldn’t use her to return to Germany. of course. which he had stolen three miles from the spot he left Denise very dead. Take the morning Glasgow train. two stores and. what with the rationing. Eiser ditched the fourcylinder. First. He looked around and saw a post office. a pub. But he did it. arriving at the train station. He had to think of alternatives.. Driving it any distance – especially during daylight – was tough. There were no signs identifying the place. his body filled with Benzedrine tablets – he considered his next move..” **** Southern Scotland At dawn. under partial-cloud.
“That’s the one. then pulled the hood up to run his fingers along the engine. Not this time. Sometimes overnight and weekends.” **** 266 .had owned a small yacht in Argentina. lifted last evening from a country yard. “Where to. paid his two-pounds-ten and bought a ticket for the London-bound train slated to arrive in thirty-five minutes.” He waved and pointed at the western horizon to the other driver. Max?” Preston looked at his driver. Used it to entertain his lady friends. He nodded to the driver in the other MI-6 auto. **** Max Preston and the two other Blue Force men found the abandoned black Hudson by a bend in the road. The KBA 49 registration number confirmed it. Undoubtedly ditched in the last half-hour. He also had a friend or two at the Swiss Embassy in London. He was starving. removing himself from the passenger seat and stepping onto the tarred road. Maybe less. “Try the village up the road.” Preston said. Then he strolled into the adjoining cafeteria and ordered fish and chips. “He can run. if they were still there. He went to the outside window beside the platform. His last meal was the previous evening in Hamburg. Warm to touch. but he can’t hide.
By the time the train for London had pulled in. especially during this time. Eiser. and watched the ticket collector accept those aboard. turning. the station was packed with people of all ages.” the collector asked Eiser. “I have my own private practice in Liverpool. madam. my good man. “We always need doctors. as Eiser moved towards the train. as a matter of fact. I am. “Yes.” the woman said. including men and women in uniform with their kitbags. tugging at the fedora he hated.” “That’s nice.” Eiser said.” 267 . please. “Here you are.” “Ticket. The Benzedrine was wearing off. black bag in hand. Eiser dug for it. we surely do. “Are you a doctor?” one of the boys asked. “What hospital?” the woman wanted to know.” “Yes. He felt tired. stood ahead of a woman and her two twin boys about thirteen.
down the steps. reminding Jordan of a crammed cattle car. 268 . three seats up. he had found his way to a seat in the rear section. and smoky. would turn around every so often. Standing room only. Officers and ranks. a small town outside Glasgow. For the first one hundred miles. Their eyes locked once. Navy. The body odor was the worst. Daughters. several people stood to get off. Then he ran for it. Army. and onto the concourse. It seemed that everyone in England was taking the train north to Glasgow this day. A well-dressed man in a brown fedora. Using the crowd as a cover. But by Leeds he had suspected something. At the next stop. smelly. Jordan darted from his seat. Near Nottingham. Mothers. Men and women in the service. penciling in a newspaper crossword. Fathers.CHAPTER TWENTY Northern England – November 29 The Saturday morning train was busy. Jordan played it cool. Once was enough to know. Sons. Air Force. the reporter had stood in the first compartment.
why didn’t you go after him?” “Whatever are you talking about.**** The train started before Wesley Hollinger realized he had lost the man in the dark-rimmed glasses. pal. Annoyed with himself. He slowed down until he was one of the last in the line. What gives?” “I beg your pardon. He had turned around and Jordan wasn’t there anymore. please. poking a stiff-faced man in the ribs. Hollinger returned to his seat. No sign of him on the concourse.” “I’d like to make a call to London. sir. “That will be two-and-sixpence. but you had better have another and get a good sleep out of it. A pause. At Glasgow. inches apart.” Hollinger watched the man jump into a taxi. He suddenly turned around. “Excuse me. “Hey. I was following Jordan.” 269 . And we both work for Lampert. he walked off with the others. the last stop. This is ridiculous. dear boy?” “For the love of Mike. Oxford 9-41-2. They stopped. And you’re following me. Hollinger got up and walked to the compartment’s rear.. He opened the door to outside.” the man said.” Hollinger said into the receiver.. “Operator. I don’t know what you were drinking. then he headed to a telephone booth.
Margaret. “Lampert here. do not speak another word over this line. By the way. and studied them. pulled out a fistful of coins. What do you have?” “Not much. Click-click . sir.” “Confounded man! How did you manage that?” “He got off with some others.” “Colonel? It’s Wesley. are you there?” “Wesley. Call him off! Now! Before I notify Wild Bill that a certain organization has been spying on a representative from the White House. You’re not going to like this. sir..” Hollinger waited for a response.. He got the secretary. I want a little more respect. .Hollinger dug into his back pocket.” “Respect?” “You know what I’m talking about. “Colonel.” **** 270 .” “Where?” “Near Motherwell. Wesley. you must have had a hard day. The phone began to ring.” “Where are you?” “Glasgow. Then.” “Yes. He dropped the appropriate ones into the slots. What tail are you referring to?” “I’ve been followed for months and you know it. . I lost him. Would you be so kind as to get your damn tail off me?” “Wesley. first.
With dark clouds approaching from the west. Jordan asked directions for the Orkney Inn. again. then past the stone wall. that’s all. the owner said. Don’t stop now. Take the west road out of town. Jordan’s legs were sore by the time he peddled off the tarred road leading into the old stone and clapboard 271 . At a pub a block from the train stop.” Churchill answered.” “Yes. “He knows. Just don’t get caught. colonel.” “I do.10 Downing Street Churchill listened to the voice on his C-phone receiver in the depths of the War Room. “Keep it up?” “That’s what I said. Turn right at the clump of trees and go about two or three miles. A quick exit was the only answer. Maybe no one was after him at all. He’d have to hurry.” **** Near Motherwell. Nobody followed him. A smell in the air indicated rain on the way. Jordan borrowed the owner’s bicycle with the promise he’d return it. Right there by the road. Scotland It worked.” “So what! Keep up your surveillance. sir. Piece of cake. If you say so. But he had to be sure. Nothing to it.
just in time.” “How are you?” “Can’t complain. stepped down from a dented truck and met the journalist near the door. He pressed the accelerator of the rough-running motor. Leave the bike round the corner. Hop in. Steady. but were doing the job. cloudy skies. No foreseeable letup. “You Stephen Jordan?” He offered his hand. “Up the road. Jordan had never been impressed by the moors.” They got into the truck.” The stranger’s breath smelled of pipe tobacco. The bench seat had worn through in spots.Orkney Inn. And it all looked worse under the rain and the dark. This was ugly. appraising the Londoner. This was a farmer’s rain. and in desperate need of a new muffler. He had made it. and scattered buildings. small sheep and cattle herds. A whiskered farmer about fifty. the 272 . sir. They squeaked loudly. let out the clutch. in dirty coveralls and rubber boots. Ten minutes later. Rain began to fall. “Yes. How are you?” “Don’t ask. chilly. It’s safe here. lad. In the gravel lot were a few trucks and autos. exposing the padding. desolate country. The stranger pushed the starter. The truck was drafty. and pulled onto the road.” “You bet. A few minutes from here. The stranger put the wipers on. “Where are we going?” Jordan asked. grinding the first two gears. except for the occasional heavy woods and bushes.
Jack Buford.” Jordan spotted the grassy ridge through the rain. The man pointed. “I know the person who found them.” “Jack Buford told me that too.” 273 . this briefcase and papers?” “A few months. about two miles from the crash site. Inside a zipper part of a briefcase. The gist is that the German plane had free passage. “Hess’s plane came down there. looking. You know. . You can still see the plow marks.” “I will. I mean.” “You saw the papers?” The man nodded. if you look close. Him and me go back a long way. The papers. For weeks the Secret Service were all over here. “How long has this person had . .” “You bet there is.farmer braked the noisy machine to a standstill opposite a grassy field.” “Tell him thanks for the vote of confidence. Certain people I know thought you might be interested. He said you were trustworthy.” “Everybody here in these parts is saying the same thing. something’s fishy about that Rudolf Hess flight.” “How do you know they were looking for papers?” “I figured it out once I had a look at them.” “Looking? Looking for what?” “Lost papers that were in the plane. You made a pretty fair impression on someone who happens to be a good friend of mine.
pleased with his luck. “Editorial.” “What does this person want for them?” “Nothing. with a telephone number on a piece of paper. “Good morning.“Those papers could have something to do with her. We don’t like Churchill nor the Duke of Hamilton neither. He dialed and waited. lad.” **** London Eiser had a good night’s sleep and a hefty breakfast that morning.” A voice came on the line. lad. “Here it is. I will connect you to his department. Just leave us out of your investigation. Daily Telegraph. please. When do I get to see these papers?” The farmer reached under his seat and pulled out a leather briefcase. “It’s a deal. Trafalgar 3-2-2-6.” said the newspaper operator.” “Thank you. May I please speak with Stephen Jordan?” “Hold on. It’s up to you to find out if they’re on the up and up. looking around.” Jordan stirred in his seat. “Good morning.” “Stephen Jordan?” 274 . In the early afternoon. You never met us or saw us. he walked to a sidewalk phone booth.
bullets punctured his cockpit. returning the card. if you care to see them. . sir. do you always carry your medical bag with you?” “Why. What might you be doing here?” Eiser put his hand into his medical bag. . “A doctor. “There you are. sir.” “Incidentally. wing. “Official Red Cross work.” “From Liverpool?” “Yes. .” **** Camp Z He felt for the parachute under his seat. he was stopped by a military policeman. I’m afraid. date of birth .” Eiser tipped his cap. Dr. thank you. With a war on I am a doctor twentyfour hours a day. I do. “Good day. yes. and the port engine. . Carry on.” “Long way from home.“Not here. and asked for an identity card. Bates. I have the papers. I’ll call him then. 275 .” The policeman studied Eiser curiously. height . . Eiser remained calm. But when he left the booth. Color of eyes . Suddenly.” The man looked at the made-in-Berlin fake.” Eiser hung up. are you?” “Yes. Won’t be back till Monday morning. Any message?” “No. the Firth of Clyde glistened in the moonlight. . sir. “That won’t be necessary. He gave left rudder. Over the nose.
and considered Dungavel Castle. The fighter was hanging on by a prayer. The turbulent slipstream stole his breath away. He knocked his head. Straining was more like it. He was terrified. Complete darkness. The briefcase was torn from his hand. He pulled and pulled. the other barely running. The Duke of Hamilton’s castle. He was free. A water landing was impossible at night. He was now on a mission of peace. The ground came rising up to meet him. Nothing happened. He heaved back on the stick to send the nose up. The fighter hung motionless for a brief. No flutter. He reached overhead. pushing him back again. He banked hard to port and nosed down. . The only running engine was vibrating the fighter. He stuck his head too far into the open slipstream.The RPM’s and pressures fell off. somewhere. Hard. . The fighter climbed and climbed. He struggled. He jumped. . slipping into the parachute . No kick in the pants. 276 . He spread his body out and pulled the chord. splitsecond of time. Dizzy for a moment. He threw his gun and stiletto out the hole in the broken window. His only way out was back to the mainland. and was thrown back. It stalled. Six thousand feet. He swore. he tried again. until it stood on its tail. He pushed. He shoved. his right hand on the briefcase. This is where I get out. one engine out. he said to himself. Dungavel Castle is out there . sliding back the cabin. .
He rubbed his sweaty face. 277 . Farnborough. Farnborough. Schubert was dreaming again. A bright light overhead. Maryhill Barracks? No.Then he woke up in his bed. Yes. It took him several moments to comprehend where he was.
The American Embassy seemed the most obvious. All it would take was one interview and he’d know. One interview. When Jordan left his office and went to the Men’s Room. They were the only two inside. then again. Jordan thought it odd that the man waited inside. he could use it as leverage with the Prime Minister’s office to interview Hess. contemplating his next move. It concerned them. But. he noticed a tall man leaning against the far wall. The man followed him in. providing the papers were not fakes. or whoever the prisoner was. where Jordan washed his hands and face.CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE London – December 1 Stephen Jordan squirmed at his newsroom desk. then joined him at the sinks. But did they know the information already? It had nothing to do with the British. near the elevator. Jordan could obtain the secrets of the prisoner. “Stephen?” 278 . while Jordan did his business into the urinal. really. It was hard to know who to reach with the papers. One look. in a way. by the door. With the papers.
. . Stephen. I joined the Army. I work for the International Red Cross.” “How?” “I hear you’ve been asking about Hess. old friend. I don’t think so.” “Adam Eiser.” Eiser said. The doctors fixed me up after my invalid release. I want to know the same things you do – is he for real or not. His face was entirely different. “I need your help. He had a dark tan. Medical mostly. .” “How did you know that?” “It doesn’t matter. The voice and the steel-gray eyes were the same.” Eiser’s tone grew low. And the hair – short. A German bomb got me. what happened? Where have you been?” “Surgery. old man. I had my face burned during the evacuation at Dunkirk. 279 . gray on the sides. “No . .Jordan looked over. “Hello again.” “You too? Why?” “I have my own reasons. .” “Eiser?” Jordan was stunned. . Jordan still wasn’t sure.” “Good job. “But . “Do I know you?” “Don’t you recognize me?” Jordan thought there was something in the man’s deep voice that was vaguely familiar. A moustache. Like any newspaperman. It had been two or three years since the Anglo-German Fellowship meetings. But the rest . I dare say.
They’ll tail you too. I saw the prisoner from a few hundred feet away. “But I can’t explain here.” “Maybe. All the time. I’m being tailed.” Jordan shook his head. Jordan phoned the Army to confirm Adam Eiser’s status with that part of the service. That’s as close as I got. What’s worse. Interviews have been refused. 1940 or 1941. we can work together. Where is the prisoner now?” “Mytchett Place.we want the truth. “I can’t find anything out. There was no record of any Eiser with any branch of the Army in 1939.” “You are? Who?” “I don’t know. That’s another thing.” Eiser said. It’s a stonewall. I must know everything about this Camp Z and what kind of official identification I need to pass the gate and the checkpoints. We have to talk.” Eiser smiled.” **** In the afternoon. Outside. The Prime Minister ignores my questions regarding the prisoner. I’ve been there. for God’s sake. Don’t be seen with me in public. “Thanks for telling me. Perhaps. 280 . I know. they call it. Two heads are better than one. I suppose you have a plan?” “I do. anyway. Camp Z.” Jordan said. “Where is that?” “Some old country mansion near Farnborough. Armed to the teeth. you came to the right person.
“I lost him. taking countless turns. At night? He didn’t wish to phone.” Jordan slipped Eiser a letter-sized envelope. “Here’s your permission from the British Foreign Office to speak with Hess. The traffic had been too congested for blocks. containing a sheet of paper. looking up and down the hall.” Eiser shut the door and the two went into the plan over a bottle of brandy. with Jordan emphasizing the secrets on how to get through the gate. with the hope of losing the shadow. 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.This didn’t sit well with the newspaperman. mid-autumn day. 281 . he was sure that he had. Eiser opened. Now what? Try another day. He knocked at room 310. He passed the American Embassy. “Did anyone follow you?” Eiser asked. He had to keep his wits about him. His shadow was out there and would see everything. “Official office stationary. What was Eiser up to? It would make for a smashing story.” “Come in. and drove to Eiser’s hotel. Jordan kept the papers stuffed inside his shirt. briefcase in hand. Blasted! He couldn’t go in. By nightfall. for fear of his home and office lines being tapped. Signed by Sir Alexander Cadogan with his office stamp.
especially now. The prisoner goes for walks in the gardens. “The armed guards are everywhere. Watch what you say. “Anything else?” “Yes. Then you are in.” “Without that sheet they’ll turn you back.” “Of course.” “Excellent. in the bushes and trees.All you have to do is fill in your name. of course. The walls have ears. where his bedroom and study is. “An anonymous friend. Too ruddy cold. who wants to stay anonymous. “Is the signature authentic?” “A forgery. Now there’re one hundred and thirty troops guarding him night and day. Typed. A damn good one.” Eiser opened it. then again on the first floor. but stays inside most of the time. Just hope they don’t call the Foreign Office for verification. Outside. The prisoner’s quarters have been replaced with armored glass.” “Now. Another thing. tell me more about this Mytchett Place.” Jordan sighed. he probably can’t move too fast. A guard in Camp Z. I figure it’s someone close to the situation. So. He broke his thigh and had it in a cast until September.” “Where did you get it?” Jordan thought of the phone call and one of the letters in his mailbox. They will ask for your ID at the gate. Inside.” Eiser put the envelope in his shirt pocket. The British record 282 . he tried some stupid suicide attempt back in June when he leaped over a rail and fell down one floor.
If Eiser had taken a train all the way to London. It was a long shot.” **** 283 . Stephen?” “I’m a married man.” “But I thought we were working together. But there wasn’t anything else to go on. You see. No one is to know I’m in England.every word. as they had suspected.” “I can’t do that. I don’t think I’ll be needing you after this. who Hollinger had already been shadowing. I answer to a higher authority. I work alone. My wife is expecting me.” **** Hollinger and the Blue Force team led by Max Preston entered the front lobby of the rundown four-story hotel and moved into position. They each took a floor. One of Eiser’s associates was Stephen Jordan. 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. **** Jordan stood up. Well. Stephen. Preston on the second. They will send the guards bursting in there in seconds if they feel something isn’t quite right. “Going so soon.” “Yes. Hollinger on the third. I’d like to know what you find out about the prisoner. You know where to find me.
Hollinger heard the fight from the hall. He undid three buttons and saw a large manila envelope. then a loud bang on the wall. . He gathered up his hat. and flipped the body over. A loan for twenty million dollars! 284 . The paragraph in the middle of the first page jolted him. He turned to Stephen Jordan. He ran up. coat and carrying bag. the second page. “Jordan? Is that you? Are you in there? Jordan! Open up!” **** Eiser’s eyes went to the alley. It was a trap. They were waiting for him. Again. The window was wide open. flicked the lights out. He pulled it out and took out the contents. Eiser slid the blackout curtains and window up. The briefcase beside him was empty. He withdrew his gun from his holster. **** Hollinger crashed the door down and punched on the light. He crossed the room. crackling underneath Jordan’s shirt. Hollinger bent down. pounding on the door. . His only way out. He scanned the first page . He ran to it and looked down the fire escape. a man’s low scream and what sounded like a struggle. His hand grazed something. face down on the floor in a small pool of blood. “Jordan!” he heard from the door. and darted for the window. His broken glasses a yard away. Then silence. barely making a sound.
Gray or blue-gray. “Acid burns!” “Yep. “And a slit throat. he thought. Same kind of mark. He folded the envelope into fours and squeezed it into his inside coat pocket. For the first time. reading from a note pad over a small flashlight. I checked around the alley.” Hollinger rose to his feet.” Preston said. “Six-foot-two. “I must have just missed him.” “He traveled light.” “The front desk said he remembered the man. Max Preston ran in. “Precisely.“Son of a bitch!” he said aloud. Brush cut.” Preston said. I had it pegged right. “Nothing left in the room.” said Hollinger. Thin moustache. Gray over the ears and above the neck. Hollinger glanced up to the third-floor fire escape. And a tanned face.” 285 . Didn’t find anything. Could this be what Jordan drove past the American Embassy with? Footsteps in the hall startled Hollinger. Neatly trimmed.” “But we were late again. we have a pretty fair description of him. twirling his fedora.” “He sure picked a dump to stay in. Short hair. Liverpool accent.” Preston and Hollinger conferred in the dark alley after questioning the desk clerk. Light-colored eyes.” “So he’s seen some sun since the surgery. Rather handsome. He couldn’t remember. You get one guess who’s been here. and looked down at Jordan. Said he gave his name as Barrow.
he didn’t feel the least bit remorseful about taking the papers from Jordan’s body. Hess’s identification! Hollinger knew that much from the beginning of the year. and jacket on the sofa. Between them and us. He opened to page two of the papers he had found on Jordan. 1941. “I wonder. I’ll ring Lampert and give him the update. He’ll undoubtedly notify MI-5. He took a sip of wine. he cracked his knuckles. He sat up. The Falcon File. He flung his hat. Given the conditions. An Enigma II transmission. then eliminated him so he couldn’t identify him. The typed sheets appeared official enough. and reached behind him to the cabinet to fetch a bottle of wine and a clean glass. Rolling up his sleeves. but his mind was functioning clearly. Destination – Deputy Augsburg 3526/52. and plunged his sixfoot frame into the chair.” He paused.” “Like he did with Denise. coat.“What do you think happened?” “Eiser could have squeezed some information from Jordan. dated May 9. Point of origin – a German by the last name of Bremmel. Who’s next?” Hollinger asked. He was tired. and poured a drink. 286 . we’ll turn London upside-down. He loosened his tie. “What the bloody-hell does Eiser want in England?” **** Hollinger returned to his flat after ten that evening.
the atomic weapons. Wesley. When the loans were signed. Each bank. had been receiving loans from several American banks to the tune of millions of dollars in order to finance their war factories. Any idiot could figure it out. So why not a possible NaziAmerican alliance? Hess too had a plan when he left Augsburg that day. Hell. Incredible. The significance of the information was brought home to him. or were they found near the crash site? Someone in Great Britain had been holding the information. Each German factory.The pages were based on information that Bremmel had received in confidence from the firm that had employed him. Think. Filberg. I. how did Jordan come by them? He had made two trips to Scotland. Nazi war factories! Hollinger read on. there was a possibility. Hollinger took a bigger sip of wine. Here it was. Had someone been feeding him these documents. all laid out in detail. it seemed. Hell. One of those not far from Glasgow. the jet aircraft. Why not? Had Hess brought these with him on his peace mission? Yeah. Filberg.S. an agenda of defection and forewarning. Hollinger closed his eyes. Found near the crash site. May 10. His home – America. yeah. 287 . that was possible. Now. His blood was up. He had warned the British of the death camps. 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. The transmission had been sent to Hess.
This had to be a bad dream. Desperately. Of course. Then it came to him. piecing it all together. The Falcon File would provide the answer. And he didn’t stop there. he dredged his own subconscious for answers. He was suddenly – unexpectedly – mentally and physically exhausted.Now Washington was brought into this. But how would he get into it? He swallowed the wine in his glass and filled it again. . Had Hess received the information the day before he had left Augsburg? Amazing. The Falcon File. Hollinger picked the papers up and pressed them in his hand. Hollinger put his head in his hands. His stomach was in knots. . considering the possibilities. May 9. He consumed a second . like it or not. Then he had his answer. and a third glass. 288 .
and cleaned the mess in the sink. He knew he had no time to try a patch test. He closed the door to the lavatory and stripped to his undershorts and socks. He washed his hair to remove the coloring from the scalp. He washed up. carefully shaved his moustache off.CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO London – December 2 Eiser had slept badly. and swallowed a Benzedrine. and left the house as quietly as he could. and blazer. Then he threw on his trousers. He did a good job too. and poured the black dye into his hair. massaging it in with his hands as he went. Eiser slipped the plastic gloves on over the cracked sink. the way most people did. The sun would rise soon and he had to be out of the guesthouse before the others woke. He let the dye set. He had to work quickly. took the bottle in his right hand. 289 . It was a good thing he had used the landlady’s typewriter the evening before to tap Dr. Jason Bates on the government document given to him by Jordan. It was evenly centered. to find if he’d have an allergic reaction to the chemicals. fresh turtleneck sweater.
A plane in London will fly you there. smiling. She walked towards him. ma’am. But she was moving around.” “You seem .” “What are you doing here?” “I’ve come to escort you to the London airport. . out of Whitchurch.” “Thank you.” Hollinger said. Ten minutes later. He sat on a nearby bench and browsed through the city’s tabloid. We’ve booked a New York bound Clipper flight for you this afternoon. actually. “Are you a relative?” “A friend.” He eyed his watch. a small piece of luggage in her hand. “Hi there. “Miss Harris will be out straightaway. Another man was steadying himself on crutches. Miss Harris. Probably her only one in London right now.” She leaned closer and dropped her voice.” Hollinger answered the ward nurse politely. “In a few minutes. ma’am. I’m afraid so. “Is that the other part of the deal?” He took her away a few feet. do I?” He shook his head. chipper. ma’am. . sir. “Yes. “How’s the leg?” 290 .” “I don’t have any choice in the matter. she appeared down the hall. the London Times. politely. Mr.” “Hi there yourself. In the waiting area was a man in a leg cast. Her leg still seemed to be giving her some pain. Hollinger got up and removed his hat.**** Hollinger checked in at the second floor of Guys Hospital. Hollinger.
boldly. it looked great on her. “Don’t you look smashing.” She did a quick twirl. In less than a week. the craters. But I can walk on it. “See?” “Great. tossing her hair with her hand. She had makeup on. Too pretty. reached for her new suitcase.” He smiled.” “This is probably the worst area. and took her down the elevator. The MG was not new by any means. across the city.” This was the writer’s first ride in a cramped English sports car. she seemed to have recovered miraculously from her injuries. but functional. Gosh! She was really quite pretty. Structures not damaged by German bombs were reinforced by sandbags. Lead the way.” “Not a pleasing picture.” he said. **** The drive through the London war zone in the drafty top-up MG convertible obviously depressed her. “I didn’t realize it was like this. it’s not. 291 . “Charmer.“Sore. Come on. “Geez. A Betty Grable type. the bombed-out buildings. A light green. The arm’s fine. Twenty thousand Londoners have died so far. is it?” “No.” She raised her hand. It had a powerful well-tuned motor. the cracked pavement. “What do you think?” Hollinger looked at the new dress the MI-6 had purchased for her.” she uttered.
I have to get back.” “You seem confident of that.” “Do you think we’ll get into this war?” she asked him bluntly. we will.” She shrugged. The pilot was waiting outside the machine. weaving in and out of traffic. 292 .” “Sorry. Long. making several pedestrians gawk. “Yeah. “You’re welcome.” He let off the pedal. aren’t I? Thanks for your help. “Thank you. “I’m alive.” she answered. The new clothes and everything. “OK.Hollinger drove it fast. He squealed the tires around one corner.” “I’m sorry things couldn’t have worked out better for you. I want to live.” “Well.” Hollinger shook hands with her. What are you going to do when you return to the States?” “Ask for another assignment. “I’m in a bit of a hurry. “Slow down.” she said. naturally. and retrieved her luggage from the back.” They reached the airport and Hollinger braked in front of the twin-engined Avro Anson on the tarmac. Hollinger opened the car door for Harris. Sort of. Either here in Europe or the Pacific. will you.” “I am. Some day.
” “The nature of your business?” “To see the prisoner. He could feel his second Benzedrine kicking in with a punch. He had to take the back roads.” she said. holding his palm up. sir.” “Yes.“Good luck. Maybe we’ll see each other again some time. please. What might I do for you?” “My name is Dr. “Yes. **** 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. A private auto was a rare sight in the wartime British countryside. and evaluate his medical condition. The toughest.” “Papers. he was on his way. The guard leaned over. She doubted that she would ever lay eyes on him again. An armed guard stopped him. And he had to conserve the siphoned fuel in the tank.” She looked at him strangely. sir. He rolled the window down. Jordan had told him. I’ve come on behalf of the International Red Cross. Once past here. He had taken his time driving. trying not to be noticed. maybe. his breath steaming in the cool air. It was the first of two checkpoints at Mytchett.” 293 . Bates. “Yeah.
and the War Office pass.” The guard returned everything.” He closed the door behind him. ID card. She was wearing an attractive outfit – blue jacket. and the Red Cross paper. the stamp. The guard scanned them for several seconds. The guard closely examined the forged signature of Sir Alexander Cadogan on the latter sheet. Eiser heaved a sigh deep inside.” **** MI-6 Headquarters Hollinger found Langford standing by the window. “And where were you?” She turned around and blinked once. “What concern of that is yours? I’m not at your beck and call. Park on the left.” Then she thought twice on what she had said. “Do you have any identification?” “Yes. white blouse. 294 . “Very well. and birth certificate. She was there for him. “I had the morning off. You may proceed.” Eiser showed him the three Berlin phonies – driver’s licence.” The guard pursed his lips. and pushed a note at her. “Thank you. matching blue shirt.Eiser dug into his medical bag for the credentials – the Red Cross and British Foreign Office verification. He was her boss. “Dr. Jason Bates?” “Yes. smoking a cigarette.
“American bank loans to .” “You’d know the answer to that one.” “Wunderbar. my. I remember. “Yes. “I have something to show you. You have that look in your eye. . Here. If that’s the case. If we received it at Bletchley. Get a load of this.” “I was off that day in May.” She seemed to foresee what was coming. then we did have prior knowledge. to Deputy Augsburg . .” “Oh.” She took papers from Hollinger’s outstretched hand.” “Yes. “Where did you get it?” “A long story. but is it genuine? It could be a fake. I’ve seen it before. See the date?” “Yes. the Germans?” She looked up.” 295 . Tell me what you make of it. It would have come through Bletchley. We’re safe. . .” “OK. indeed. .She read: Is the room bugged? “Well?” She shook her head. “No. May 9.” He handed her the contents of a manila envelope. then Hess might have been trying to warn us of an agreement between American bankers and German war factories. in Berlin . Hess. her voice cracking. I was in London. .” “I need your help. No time to go into it. Hess!” He nodded. Falcon File transmission from the Bremmel .” “There’s one way of checking this out to see if it’s on the level. Her trained eye scanned the material in a flash. . “I know. .
If unauthorized people were caught in there. Got a key?” “I have a number of keys for the different rooms.” “Worse. You have access to the room. “I don’t like this. Blacklisted forever.” she argued. the Hess intercepts are under the Confidential section.” She shook her head.” “Now all we have to do is confirm this.” “Only if there’s another copy in the file room.” 296 . But we have to find out. Her shoes were off. that’s all.” “We just won’t get caught. I don’t.” “Why?” “To use it against somebody – us – at the opportune time.Langford stood up and came around the front of her desk. then it was part of Hess’s package. “Except. “We’d need permission from Lampert.” “Yes. And there might not be anything there. as usual. Let’s try.” Hollinger put the papers into the envelope. And chances are Churchill and Lampert know about it. You’d be sent back to Washington. and are keeping it under wraps. I don’t know if I have one for that one. someone could have destroyed them.” “Some of the locks could be the same. I’d be thrown out of the Secret Service for good. we’re—” “Up the creek without a paddle. “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. but.
“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?”
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?”
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.”
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.”
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.
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
you can work for us and feed information back to Germany – information that we tell you to send. . glancing up. “You refuse to cooperate – we kill you. Frankly. First. . . 1939 ring a bell?” “Not especially. putting him in the hospital for weeks. old boy. Preston cleared his throat.” 314 . and dragged him into a nearby meadow. You stabbed one. Preston nodded.” “I was one of the three agents who came to arrest you. The bound man was pushed to his knees in the soft earth. “Should I?” answered Adam Eiser. Me. “Now do you remember?” “So?” Eiser was unmoved. “Remember me?” Preston asked. August. his face bruised. extracting his gun from his holster. The signal. “I’ve been informed by MI-6 to give you your options. The others stood around.” “I’m not terribly fond of that one. He had survived a vicious interrogation in which he hadn’t cracked.yanked out a man whose hands were bound. He looked up at Preston. about . staring coldly at the German spy. The two men in the first car – one of them Max Preston – followed seconds behind. you’re considered too dangerous. forming a circle of men and steamy breath. . And you threw acid on another. “Does London . No trial.” Preston pointed to his chest. What’s the second option?” Preston checked the gun chamber of his pistol.
“Deutschland. and air force are going to do in advance. before your own mid-range commanders do.’’ “Sieg Heil!” “Poor man. pathetic waste. my Deutschland. didn’t we?” “Mere luck. if you must.” Preston rammed the muzzle at the back of Eiser’s neck and fired once.” Preston replied.” “I regret nothing. low groan as he fell sideways. 315 .” He spit in the Englishman’s face. “It’s not nice to call me a dirty pig. “Where did you go wrong? An Englishman?” Eiser showed no concern. . navy. can’t do. the war is over. .“I’ll take neither. “Schweinehund!” “I know my German. We know what your army. Do what you have to do.” “We caught you. Herr Eiser. Eiser. How touching. Eiser let out a wretched. He examined Eiser’s face for a hint of repentance. For over a year now.” Preston smiled. There wasn’t any.” “Amateurs.” “I will. wiping his cheek with a handkerchief. our Intelligence has been intercepting all of Germany’s military signals.” “Too bad. Amateurs? I think not. controlling his anger. For you. Such a .” Preston sighed.” “Sorry. “I’ll let you in on a little secret.
” “Bring it in at once. “Yes?” “Herr Reichsfuehrer. upon his return.” The adjutant entered Himmler’s office.” Preston said. He adjusted his pince-nez. However. So much for keeping an eye on the poodlekiller. He wasn’t going to mark this in his date book.“Bon voyage. **** Gestapo Headquarters Heinrich Himmler answered his intercom. For now. **** 316 . The Gestapo leader cut at it with his gold-plated letter opener. It’s for you. watching the blood flow onto the ground.” “Yawohl. Herr Reichsfuehrer. 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. left the sealed envelope on his desk. a courier arrived with a decoded message from Hamburg. So much for becoming the Fuehrermaster. Eiser. He crumpled the paper into a ball and threw it across the room. He didn’t enjoy killing people. Eiser was the exception. and departed.
still undetected. in Hawaii. December 8. There was no turning back now. December 7. and the Army and Navy airfields as planned.Pacific Ocean They crossed the international dateline. The Japanese Task Force had been on the open sea for a week. at dawn. 317 . Tokyo time. Navy ships. CLIMB MOUNT NIITAKA It was confirmed. Vice Admiral Chuichi Nagumo was to proceed southeast and attack the U. when the coded message came over the wireless.S.
At two in the morning. It would be no milk run. But it was still the quickest route to Washington.CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR Prestwick. He was weighed down like the others with a winter-issue parka. Scheduled North Atlantic winter crossings were always terrifying at best with the Ferry Command aircraft overloaded with men and gasoline. Scotland – December 5 Landlubber Wesley Hollinger decided to accept the risks as par for the course. The accommodations were cramped. 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. knowing damn well that he wouldn’t stand a fiddler’s chance if the aircraft had the misfortune of going down over the 318 . thick gloves. a parachute and life vest. gusting to one hundred miles per hour. The buffeting westerly headwinds were often raw. with snowflakes in the air that melted once they touched ground. with icy conditions. a fleeced flying suit.
000 miles of nervewracking boredom. instantly. 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. Forty-four in total had died. Hollinger could see the ground off and on. Heavy on his mind were the two Dorval-bound BOAC B24’s that had crashed into the Scottish hills in August. 319 . where the wing would ice up. The North Atlantic headwinds were the strongest at sea level. It was deathly dark. Therefore. There. over 2. Hollinger had deciphered the pilot’s strategy.ocean. forcing him to dive for sea level. but later came back to life at sea level. the hum of the engines eventually dropped Hollinger off to sleep. both minutes out of Prestwick and only four days apart. through the cracks in the bomb bay. Quebec. This flight did not sit well with him. and crash against the fuselage. The flight would take approximately sixteen hours from Prestwick to Dorval. the pilot had to climb to thinner air. assuming anyone would ever receive the radio signal in the first place. On one occasion. the ice would come sliding off the wing. to conserve fuel. lit by the moonlight. The B-24 took off and climbed into the scattered cloud. Rescue missions were out of the question. Climb and dive. Too bad he couldn’t do a crossword. so much ice formed inside one engine that it quit temporarily. Two hours into the unforgiving Atlantic airstream. Fortunately.
He turned away. Only daylight between the Liberator and the vast expanse of water. He knew something sounded different. It needed parts. his body a block of ice. Hollinger flicked his eyes open. Hollinger saw the ocean below through the crack by his face. The exposed flesh on his face was freezing. He couldn’t tell how far away the white caps were. the sunlight wouldn’t last long. But this time the engine didn’t start. He started to perspire. Then one engine quit. They went into another dive. A few thousand feet. How long had he been out? He didn’t know. **** 320 . And number four was leaking oil to boot. British mechanics determined that the B-24’s number two engine had an electrical short. for sure. This far north in December. He began to doze off. 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.He woke up. He still had several hours to go. Huddled under a thick blanket. **** Kaflavik. He was going to catch his death of cold by the time the aircraft landed.
a sealed envelope was delivered to President Roosevelt. 3 cruisers. All 4 carriers at sea. Perhaps by Sunday or Monday. were gone. Yet. All four of them. But no Enterprise. Not now. accompanied by five heavy cruisers. they probably wouldn’t return. It was a long-winded thirteen-part communiqué that the Ambassador was told not to deliver to the Americans 321 . the cruiser escort attached to the Enterprise had returned after being out of harbor for a week. With the weekend coming on. Whereabouts unknown. The big prizes. The Hornet and Yorktown had not been heard from for days. Ships at anchor at 1800 hours: 9 battleships. 3 submarine tenders. However.Pearl Harbor. **** The White House – December 6 At 0930 hours. Hawaii Edgar Heinemann adjusted the focus range on his binoculars and looked over the waterway from Aiea Heights. Heinemann squatted in the weeds and wrote down his assessment of Pearl Harbor and the sought-after Battleship Row. the latest decoded Japanese message sent from Tokyo to its Washington Embassy. the carriers. In dock: 4 cruisers. the Lexington steamed out. 17 destroyers. 3 destroyers. Five of the battleships had remained in port for a week. two returning the day before. At least an outside chance. That day.
” 322 .” “Neither do I. put the thirteen-part message down. Not at all. ordering Nomura and Kurusu to destroy their codebooks. 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. what do you make of it?” Hopkins only sighed. one specifically against sabotage. Harry Hopkins. “Harry. Harry. The US Ambassador in Tokyo had been warning Washington for months of an armed conflict somewhere in the Pacific. The Japanese were riled. the American code-breakers had intercepted a message from Tokyo to their Embassy in Washington. and said to Hopkins. They were ordered to wait until the 25th for a reply. Then. cleared the bile in his throat. One part – the fourteenth point – was held back until further notice. Roosevelt knew it was all coming to a head. “I don’t like it. The US forces in Hawaii had received and acted upon two alerts. Then the deadline was extended another four days. The President wondered aloud what was in the fourteenth part as he turned to his adviser. Mr. on December 2. The President turned. American codebreakers had been receiving and decoding Japanese messages depicting their dissatisfaction with Washington.until specified by Tokyo. President.
The bright red-ball markings on the wings told him they were none other than . radioed Admiral Nagumo at sea. coolly.” **** Within sight of Pearl Harbor. “Yes. not ten feet away. Here they come. .” “Is it against the law to watch the Harbor?” “No. “Treason. Now. “What’s the charge then?” They both drew guns. Commander Mitsuo Fichida. “You are under arrest.” he said. Come with us. Japanese. Tora!” 323 .” one of them said. the leader of the attack. “Tora. focusing on the sudden incoming flight of aircraft.CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE Pearl Harbor Edgar Heinemann stood in the weeds on the hillside across the Harbor. . Tora. “Edgar Heinemann?” The German spun around to see two tall men in suits.
“Colonel.Tora meant Tiger. the first wave dive-bombers dove for the ships on and around Battleship Row. the waterspouts . . the black smoke. Kid? I knew it had to be important when you used our private code.” Hollinger slapped his briefcase. crowded air terminal. you’ll never believe what I have in here. and drove away. “What’s up. alive with people who had just arrived from other flights. . . The second wave of one hundred and eighty-three aircraft was halfway to Oahu. The word repeated three times signified to Nagumo that his aircraft had caught the American Fleet by complete surprise. . He saw the ack-ack puffs from the American gunners . . How did they catch him so soon? **** Bolling Air Force Base It was early afternoon in Washington. **** Edgar Heinemann saw it as the two men handcuffed him. the bomb explosions . He could feel the concussion of the hits on the ships. The Japanese Blitzkrieg was on. . flung him into the black Mr. Within two minutes.” 324 . He watched as the low-flying fighters beat a path to Battleship Row. as the fighters targeted the nearby airfields. Hollinger picked out the round face of Colonel Bill Donovan inside the noisy.
“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.
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.”
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.
DUKE OF HAMILTON
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.
Canada in 1984. Wyatt made the switch to historical fiction with The Last Flight of the Arrow. The Mary Jane Mission came out two years later. 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. This was followed up in 1986 by Maximum Effort with the same publisher. 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.About the author Historical fiction author Daniel Wyatt is Canadian. Erin. A big baseball fan. he coaches a local fastball team. 355 . thirty miles outside Toronto. a techno-thriller set during the Cold War years of the late 1950’s. Ontario. In the summer months. In 1990. Ontario. Wyatt enjoys collecting Detroit Tigers memorabilia. born and raised on the prairies of Saskatchewan.
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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