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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
it could not have come any sooner for a handful of Americans and Brits in-the-know. He discovered that the two departments’ paths crossed on occasion. Wild Bill began structuring a top-secret federal organization. He studied MI-5. He recruited individuals. He took two trips to England in 1940. Only two weeks earlier the President appointed Colonel Donovan to head a new federal intelligence agency designated “The Office of the Coordinator of Information. obtaining intelligence information that would someday be useful to his country. That meant cooperation. he was hoping that the work was not in vain. sir?” 18 . Considering the shaky world position. With Roosevelt’s blessings. Closing the newspaper. Wesley Hollinger was a product of that system. The Irishman had conferred with various heads of state and prominent people.” “Why do you say that. Democrat President Franklin Delano Roosevelt. He farmed them out to observe and report.his old friend. Donovan threw Hollinger a sideways glance. who specialized in foreign espionage. That was a good sign. the experts in counterespionage on English territory. which gave him the ammunition he needed to model an American intelligence agency after the British.” The American spy agency – the COI for short – was officially up and running. and the MI-6 Secret Intelligence Service. “Somebody is going to get their war soon. By mid-1941.
And they always get what they want.” Hollinger felt uneasy. “Roosevelt supporters.” the colonel replied. are you telling me that–” “I’ve said enough. He looked ahead. If only that cheeky redhead were here to see him. that’s who. And idealistic. Hollinger slowed the Packard down at the light ahead. shit!” “Damn it! Watch it. “Oh. and Hollinger nearly slammed into the car in front of him. Certain people.” “Thank God for Hitler. He couldn’t believe he was doing this. thinking of the telephone conversation he had that morning with Aris. you’re still young yet.” Hollinger mumbled. **** 19 . “Who’s higher than the President?” “Wesley. he saw it. In the distance. “What was that?” “Nothing. sir. “Sir. his former secretary at his Wall Street lawyer’s office. Take a right at the next block. sir.” “You mean the President and his staff?” Donovan shook his head. Wesley!” Hollinger shot a glance at his boss. and turned at the street sign marked Pennsylvania Avenue. that’s why.” The light turned red. “Nope. Higher than that. People who stand to make a lot of money if we go to war.“Because some high-ups want it. The White House.” “Yes.
sir. Washington time.” “Very good. It was not in his best interests to keep Winston Churchill waiting on his Whitehall 4433 private line.” “Thank you. and peered into the room. sir?” “Yes.” “If he doesn’t bite. What do you think he’ll say. colonel. “Can you hear me. Ours.MI-6 Headquarters.” “Yes. anxious for a reply. and will be briefing the President at tenthirty. You left word for me?” The Prime Minister’s familiar lisp was clipped. “Yes. He’s there for one purpose. He made it safe and sound last evening. “Yes.” “As long as the Big Fish in Washington buys it.” MI-6 officer Colonel Raymond Lampert quickly lit his pipe and lifted the Cphone receiver. Any additional cables will be forwarded to your office. But can the Kid do it how we want him to do it?” “Second thoughts. sir. sir. I should expect. sir?” “What we told him to say.” “Jolly 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. the Prime Minister is on the line. we’re done for. Margaret. I did.” “There’s a good lot resting on our errand boy. A cable was forwarded to me just a few minutes ago from the Kid. London The secretary finger-tapped on the office door.” “Let’s go on scramble. I can. “Colonel. colonel?” 20 .
Whoever would have believed it a few months ago? May the angels in heaven help us.” “We’ll let the bloke think he’s a hero.” Lampert said. Did you receive the copy of the report I sent to the President?” “Yes.” Taking a ballpoint pen.“Perhaps.” 21 .” “It is his office. but—” “Never mind. He seems gullible enough. It’s on. “Wesley Hollinger. sir.” “Certainly. now that you mention it. Do you know what he did. Lampert doodled on his foolscap pad. “Anything else.” “In any event.” “I have an update.” Lampert hesitated. mustering as much enthusiasm as he could. About an hour ago. as yet. The end justifies the means. sir.” “Already? Good show. sir. colonel. “Remember our goal. sir. while I have you on the line? How’s Operation Decoy coming along?” “Not a word.” “Yes.” “Let me know the minute you hear from your Portugal agent. sir. A hero?” “Yes. colonel. was he?” “He put NO SMOKING signs in his new office.” “Yes. sir. before he left?” “Up to more mischief. Stop Hitler. We’ve made the arrangements for the Atlantic meeting. isn’t that what he rather is. I suppose he is.
” Lampert said. Lampert waved her over. Get it over with now. sir. “Just a minute.” She showed the package to him. “Sir. “Yes. a sealed envelope has just arrived from the code room.“What about Camp Z?” “I’ll be out the door in minutes.” “Of course. Margaret?” “Colonel.” 22 . sir. sir.” he said into the Cphone. “I think we just got our answer from Portugal.” “Fine.” Lampert’s secretary knocked at the door.
We need to go another mile or more. the waves were choppy. Then they ordered the whiskered fisherman on a north by northeast course.CHAPTER TWO Firth of Forth. I will. midafternoon. heavy. The Firth of Forth was a windy waterway off the western slant of the North Sea. Scotland Two husky men struggled with the long. It was a rough ride. across the creaky dock. Now. they hauled it from the motorcar. Who’s going to look out here. Chin up. “Are you going to make it?” the other man asked. to the edge of the water line and aboard the small boat.” 23 . Why do we have to go so damn far out?” “Still too shallow here. one of the men gripped the starboard rail and vomited over the side. “Yeah. Three miles from shore. filled by hard-working fishermen during the less turbulent hours – in the morning. when the water was the calmest. wooden crate. Sweating.” “Tell that to my stomach. anyway?” “Orders.
they heaved it into the cold. She was a desk soldier at her post. six days a week. She forgot how much she disliked the place the first time around. “So long. England Langford removed her reading glasses and sniffed.“I’ll try. With grunts. The secrecy between huts.” The fisherman steered into the brisk northerly wind. Scott. The twelve-hour shifts. unforgiving water. A dignified clerk. And married. And Lampert and the Prime Minister too. Boley. and was a little under the weather. She told herself that she didn’t mind these last three weeks too much. a young face under twenty-five stuck in with the “elite old farts. The two passengers bent over the crate and picked it up. Murphy. They were mostly innocent old men. She had slipped into the old routine at the Secret Service cipher school. She sat on her desk. Then she set her tea down and thought for a moment.” as Hollinger had often referred to them. Now she was 24 . She was back. Ellis. **** Bletchley Park.” the sick man said. Green. Kraut. Jansen. laughing at her situation. a decade older than her. She had picked up a summer cold from somewhere. For King and Country. The stale food. and a few minutes later killed the throttle. The crate bubbled and sank instantly. sipping her tea. lapping a series of waves against the hull.
Different people. Enigma II had six of low priority. as her girlfriend had done during the dreadful London Blitz the past winter. Different hut. Not a bad job. It was another part of the radio war that saw her organization processing over eight million enemy words every month. She didn’t have to teach bratty kids. she took pleasure in heading off the Nazi military and High Command dispatches.here only temporarily. Eighty-four for her eyes today. Langford hardly looked back. the Ultra experts – the distributors of the traffic. this. So far. and the other branches of the service. she leafed through the deciphered Enigma intercepts that had come through fairly steady from the Russian Front. Next. of which she was one – would take over and separate the correspondence for the Army. waiting on her boss – Hollinger – to return to Great Britain in a few more days. Since choosing her profession. she tried to tell herself. With her reading glasses in place. Not many women in Britain had a wartime job as interesting – at least on the surface – as hers. Different messages. Although tedious. Stacked on her desk were the messages from the girls in the nearby Decoding Room hut. She didn’t have to drive an ambulance and pull mutilated bodies out of rubble. Like a game. It was different this time. And fascinating. Alerting the Soviets and passing the German military codes on to them was forbidden. or toil on an assembly line. Like a sabbatical. The Russians couldn’t be trusted to keep the source 25 . the Navy. Roberta Langford flipped her shoes off and lit a Player’s cigarette.
they would be knocking at Leningrad’s doors in a week. In the five weeks since their synchronized Operation Barbarossa ground and air attack. Every area encountered a new set of rules. 26 . without question. She nodded. the Sixteenth Army would push on tomorrow.secret. the German Sixteenth Army had already reached the south side of Lake Ilmen. Some meteorological reports – six – had come through today. a prime objective for the Germans. Today. They were getting severely whipped by superior German forces and their newfangled machinery. Her job was to chaperone only. Screen and catalogue for the departments. and on the Atlantic U-boats. And the next day. To be sure. the German Wehrmacht forces had slashed deep into the Soviet Union. in the north country. And the next. He’d be getting some dispatches today. Roberta Langford would follow the directives. The cryptographers at Bletchley always had to keep in mind that the Germans had many variations of their high-grade cipher traffic. At the rate they were advancing. Let Lampert know of anything in the high-priority class. Lake Ilmen was only 100 miles from Leningrad. The Enigma orders in the deciphered messages spoke of lightning movements. Langford shot a glance over her shoulder to a map of Russia she kept on the wall. They couldn’t do anything anyway. major and minor sieges. and glorious victories. 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.
“I’m looking for Roberta Langford. Your Yank boss man. K for cloud .using single letters for various conditions.” Langford looked over her glasses through brown. Caught you before the shift change. they had the codebooks for reference.. The Germans changed letters weekly. From Washington. there you are.” “Yes. Blue tobacco smoke enclosed her like a fog. “You don’t say. “And you are?” “Spencer Winslow. . Lucky for Bletchley. keeping in mind that inter-office contact was forbidden. looking about.” he said. “Hello. thank you.” “Thank you. A female voice answered. deer-like eyes to see the freckled face and the thick round glasses of Spencer Winslow from the Enigma II Hut Nine.” a male voice asked. I should think. What brings you here this hour of the day?” She sniffed. . “Ah. L for clear.” “Got a cable for you.” 27 . Spencer. my dear.” She puffed on her cigarette. She heard two people in the hall. once broken. except by phone or memo first. of course.. This week . Stolen. go on in. Simple enough codes. . He had telephoned a few minutes before. . “How’s the cold?” “Better.
Lampert was the Judge or Your Honor. there’s other fish in the sea?” She laughed low and husky. Then again.” “That’s simply terrible. he conquered. Enigma II transmissions were recently christened the Falcon File. for he thrived on his codenames. Falcon was the Deputy Fuehrer’s codename. this exclusive club. Churchill was no better. Langford smiled at Hollinger’s silly humor.” He slapped the sealed envelope in his hand. The Prime Minister favored Former Naval Person for himself when communicating 28 . He came. shaking his head. “Now I’ll take that. What a way to run a war. THE KID. SAY HELLO TO THE JUDGE. With this kind of incompetence. HEY REDHEAD. And it didn’t end there.“They delivered it to the wrong hut. Langford knew. TOODELOO. “Hut Nine. What a tease. MEETING POTUS FOR COFFEE.” “I don’t know what you see in that fellow. his old stomping grounds.” “I don’t see anything. The fast-talking American had a nickname for everybody.” “So.” She held out her pearl-smooth hand. “Don’t pull my leg. WISH YOU WERE HERE. She was Redhead. he saw. we’ll lose for sure. if you don’t mind.” “We’ve never even so much as gone out.” she told him. He left and she opened the cable. He felt comfortable now in his surroundings.” They smiled at each other. “Right you are. Churchill was the Big Guy. It made sense.
But he wasn’t her type. She tried to tell herself she was not in love with him. Not really. Not the way she had been with Arthur. He was also the one who came up with Operation Urge. but rather nice at times. Hollinger’s “Mission of Persuasion” to Washington. Suitors everywhere. Although she always backed off. What would they do when he returned? She still couldn’t quite see herself with Hollinger. Nicknames and codenames were getting to be a habit in this line of work. Sometimes he was even honestly sincere. He was a cocky young man. He knew her status since Arthur had dropped her. So many to pick from. At least with Hollinger there was never a dull moment. although she was leaving the back door open all the same. the bloke with the ego. Love? Good Lord. when he wanted to be.with Roosevelt. and he had tried to move in on her a couple of times. Spencer Winslow had always enjoyed her company. Roosevelt used POTUS – President of the United States – whenever he cabled Churchill over the London-Washington Hotline. Too dreary. She wondered how well Hollinger was performing on his trip to the White House. She was fond of Hollinger. Not with the man who hardly ever took things seriously. Alex Nevin. One of the few at Bletchley. Not to be left out. he was still trying. He definitely had a good side to him. But she was in no hurry. He was single. Neither was she steadfastly in love with her new friend. the RAF fighter pilot from Liverpool. She took a long pull of her cigarette and 29 . no! At least she didn’t think so.
Three hundred feet up. two Spitfires from the nearby fighter base roared. very slowly.wondered what Lampert thought of the gutsy analyst now. floodlights for night use. the sinister. unkempt gardens full of rhododendrons. under close surveillance. This was Camp Z. Most of the world knew him to be Nazi Germany’s Deputy Fuehrer Rudolf Hess. as well as colorful. in close formation. Put a mark on the wall. Only a handful would even guess he was an impostor. eighteenth century Victorian mansion an hour’s drive out of London had housed Great Britain’s most notorious Nazi prisoner-of-war. 30 . Lampert could see the German prisoner walking the gardens this late afternoon. England Lampert steered his mud-covered Austin to the gate at Mytchett Place. Lampert checked in with the armed guard and drove ahead to the gravel parking space alongside the driveway. It was another warm day in what was turning out to be one of the hottest summers on record. The German was now referred to as Prisoner Z. Inside the double-perimeter barbwire barricades were machine-gun posts. Damn this cold! **** Farnborough. The Kid was briefing the President on the status of England. full-throttle. She sniffed and wiped her nose with a tissue. For two months. slittrenches dug into the lawns.
month-old MI-6 title. Everyone – inside and out – carried weapons at all times. Colonel Raymond Lampert went about his work today with a high degree of dignity. A drunk? Mytchett Place could have passed for Dracula’s castle. the colonel waited several more minutes. The mansion was surprisingly cool. his new. he wondered who had done the decorating. 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. it seemed. he looked around. Beside it was the sitting room on one side. Security was tighter now in Camp Z. When the armed entourage helped the prisoner into the building through the ground floor music room. wooden floors. and chipped furniture. although they knew the prisoner wouldn’t get too far in his current invalid condition.” 31 . the bathroom on the other. sir. surrounded by a metal cage. lit his pipe and waited. At the top. Lampert climbed the squeaky oak staircase. Lampert nodded at the sentry who stood opposite the caged-in room. When he saw the cracked. “Your identification. All the windows were closed. The ex-British Army officer who had distinguished himself in the Great War had all the time in the world.Lampert raised his six-foot frame from the vehicle. one level up. The prisoner’s bedroom was on the first floor. dark walls. So did the prisoner. as Executive Officer of Enigma Operations. then entered the gloomy front entrance of the badly-maintained estate.
“He’s in the sitting room. who are you? A doctor?” Prisoner Z asked in German-accented English. They were expecting him. then returned it. He looked up grimly. dear boy?” 32 . I don’t know any Frank.” Lampert opened the door. his left leg in a cast. He had aged years. You’ve been up to no good. in only months. “Oh. He was pitifully pale and hollow faced and still appeared to be in some agony from the fall in June. “Yes. Lampert slid into a chair. his eyes watery. it seemed to Lampert. He took it.” “I’m sorry. his voice shaky. and leaned onto the table. looked. one of the new faces.” “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. “No.“Of course.” “What do you want then?” “Let me be frank with you. And we want you to stop. shut up! Don’t be such a ninny.” Lampert exploded.” “Thank you. Immediately. colonel. Prisoner Z was seated in a wheelchair. Look here! We’ve been hearing some things about you. The colonel flipped out his pocket-sized MI-6 Secret Service ID and waved it under the nose of the eager sentry.” said Lampert. next to a mahogany table.
You know what I mean?” Then he vanished beyond the door. . I have a headache. “Do you understand? Can I at least get a nod?” Schubert nodded twice. .” “I’ll give you a worse headache if you dare to trifle with us.” Lampert waited. “I came to Britain in an unarmed plane. “No . “Any more trouble from you and we’ll do away with your miserable life. A flag of truce. . including your real purpose in coming here two months ago. . “Rights! You listen to me. .” Schubert hung his head. trouble. Lampert got up. “I was hoping you were a doctor. 33 .The prisoner looked directly at Lampert. You will not attempt any stupid suicides to gain attention. . this pigstyso the Duke of Hamilton can’t find me. more . the Deputy Fuehrer of Nazi Germany. I’m kept in this . “You know my name? How? It’s the drugs. What do you think of that. his mouth hardening. isn’t it?” “Shut up! You are Rudolf Hess. and we’ll go after your family in Germany if you do not cooperate. everything about you.” Lampert’s fist clenched. Herr Felix Schubert? Are you following me?’” Schubert’s face flushed red.” Lampert continued. We know your name. You will not play any more silly games. My rights are being violated under the rules of the Geneva Convention. his eyes on the German.
who smiled his pleasure before disappearing through a side door. To arrive at the Oval Office inside the one-hundredand-twenty-five-room White House. “Yes.” “He did?” 34 . Finally. he and Donovan were steered by an aide up wide stairs. The White House was better than Donovan’s description of it only minutes before. “Have a seat. down long corridors. they were ushered to a small reception area. sir?” “Churchill didn’t send you.” Donovan said. Wesley. gentlemen.” Hollinger and Donovan thanked the man. and past large furnished rooms. It was more like Roosevelt summoned you. You might have to wait a few minutes.CHAPTER THREE The White House Hollinger reveled in the once-in-a-lifetime moment like a six-year-old with a new toy. Churchill’s 10 Downing Street was a dump by comparison. “I feel I should fill you in on something.
Just don’t be too defensive. “It is? I don’t get it.” “The President wants to see if you’re of use to us there. You have me convinced. Remember. They both happened to occur at the same time. The President has to come to a decision about you. Churchill. OK. But I still don’t get it.” “Yes.” “Is that all?” “No. To put it simply.” Hollinger was surprised and disappointed. What you’re made of.” “OK.” 35 . sir?” “Either send you back to England or keep you here in some capacity. Why me in the first place?” “Because you’ve already been briefed on the Hess mission. maybe. 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. It could very well be based on how you handle yourself today. sir. be yourself.” “That’s ridiculous. “What kind of decision. I can assure you that I’m not the wild man people say that I am.“Yes. Where on earth did he get that idea?” “I dunno.” “Sir. you’re available.” Hollinger fiddled nervously with the fedora in his hand. The reports he’s been getting from London are that you’re some playboy out for a good time.
President. rugged American with the thick. the aide returned. “You may go in now.” Hollinger thanked the aide again for the quick tour. how goes it. The President was behind his desk. cigarette in mouth. in green tie and white shirt sleeves.“Oh. one of our COI agents in England. President. and hurried after Donovan through the door into the Oval Office.” “So you’re the fellah who’s turned England upsidedown. Put er there!” Donovan set his briefcase at his feet and shook hands with the nation’s mighty commander-in-chief.” “Excellent. eh? What name do you prefer to go by?” “Sir?” Hollinger gulped. “this is Wesley Hollinger. over-emphasizing one of the colonel’s nicknames. Then the President’s strong eyes fell on Hollinger. He turned to greet Donovan first. 36 .” Hollinger smirked. “Wild Bill. “You mean I just happened to be in the right place at the right time. “Swell. And he also had considerable experience with the breaking and decoding of the Japanese Purple code.” Minutes later. “What should I call you? The Kid or the Tyrant of Hut Nine?” Roosevelt then broke into thunderous laughter. Mr. wavy hair. superbly-cut suit and large diamond ring on his hand.” Donovan said. the young. fellah?” he said jovially. “Mr. He was instrumental in the breaking of the German Enigma II diplomatic code I had briefed you about.” “Exactly.
Coffee? I know you like yours black. FDR had been victimized by polio.” “Thank you.” 37 . Still. I couldn’t resist that.Hollinger relaxed and marveled at his commander-inchief.” “Sit down. sir. sir. 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. wheelchair-bound for the last number of years. With his large upper chest. As Hollinger perceived it. it was a shock for Hollinger to actually see the President’s metal companion beneath him. Someone who Hollinger’s father would probably call a real Iron Ass. 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. And you. The newsreels did not show the bona fide Franklin Delano Roosevelt. sir. 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. I should be used to it by now. strong shoulders and deep voice. the President was the Babe Ruth of American politics. he used cumbersome leg braces and crutches. Wesley? Coffee?” “Yes.” “That’s quite all right.” “You’ve made quite the impression over there. son. To walk. Wesley. Bill. “Sorry. Welcome to the White House. Coffee sounds great. you two. Roosevelt’s handshake was firm and warm.
But he believes a Channel invasion is still coming. Churchill wants more aid. paperfilled desk and poured for the two men as they took up chairs. mister. sir. Winston Churchill. forthwith. the British don’t scare easily. But they are in no condition to stop Hitler by them38 .” The President listened with modest concern. Rommel has his eye on the fields. However. son?” “A little touchy sometimes. then added cream and sugar to the mug given him. Roosevelt smiled.” Hollinger said. Britain will go belly-up. sure.Roosevelt took the silver pot on his messy.” “Does he?” “Yes. with little effort. The oil of Iraq and the Persian Gulf is a priority. and lit a new one for his holder. “The situation is grave. “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. crushed his cigarette in a desk ashtray. can England hold out?” the President barked. casually. Hollinger had been forewarned – the President would be blunt. He folded his arms. Ships. Thanks for asking. “How’s the shoulder injury. Churchill doesn’t plan to throw in the towel. Planes. Hollinger set his fedora on his arm rest. sir. sir.” “So. Without oil. “The Brits have cracked the German codes. “What else is new?” he said. The wheelchair creaked. . So . . He also seemed as haughty as his overseas counterpart.
“With all due respect. You must be well-enough versed on England’s readiness. You’ve spoken to Churchill. “Wesley.” Roosevelt nodded. They need some muscle. “We were well aware of it. the appeasers would have taken over by now. sir. Churchill was nearly overthrown by parliament two months ago. “But are we prepared for war?” His tone indicated that he already knew the answer. you’re getting around. “No more than the British were in ’39. Wesley?” Roosevelt thundered. He sensed the President was toying with them.” Roosevelt threw his head back.” “If that had happened. They barely scraped through the Battle of Britain. Bill? Is he telling us the truth or is he another angel of British propaganda playing with the President?” Donovan pinched the brim of his hat in his lap. They can’t win with Enigma and radar alone. cigarette in his mouth.” “Are you saying we should get into this war. I understand. “In detail. Radar saved them.” 39 .selves.” Roosevelt turned again to Hollinger. Bill. Before England falls. in the not too distant future.” “True. Not after. we might have to eventually.” “Ours?” “Maybe. “I think he’s giving it to us straight. knowing the ropes. As you may know. In person. Hollinger paused to study Donovan.” “What do you think of this.” He glanced at Donovan. I agree with Wesley.
sir. Hollinger gave a heady explanation of what appeared to be two sets of peace proposals. It doesn’t. while his leader digested as much of the information as he could.“Yes.” Donovan dug into his briefcase and handed Roosevelt several mimeographed sheets that had made their way across the Atlantic in Hollinger’s briefcase. Yes. The way I prefer it. young man. They want to negotiate. Three times.” “Doesn’t sound too healthy.” “Hitler is only one problem. twisting the sheets at different angles. “What about the Japanese? You’ve heard the latest. Some people feel Britain will lose the war. FDR was a blunt man. The oil contracts on hold. And he jumped from subject to subject. . The next topic. What about this .” “Lay it on me.” “Yes.” “No. the freezing of assets across the board. Somehow. sir. The ban of further gas and iron ore shipments to their island. 40 . Roosevelt had a peculiar way of reading. . before the President picked up more of the details on his own. With the tar on. “That’s why I’m here.” “What’s his upcoming strategy?” “Survive till the end of the year. Hitler’s and Hess’s. Hollinger looked uncomfortably around the office for several moments of silence.” the President said slowly. sir. Hess incident?” Hollinger cleared his throat.
Jet aircraft. the American leader read more.” “Says here he was seeking asylum?” the President asked.The President broke the silence after two minutes.” The President laughed.” “Yes. and rockets. Prior to the attack in June. just the same. So he did bring them.” “And the result?” “Stalin didn’t believe the British. I didn’t expect them to be that well along. And Hitler let him go. That’s astonishing!” “Still years away. sir. “Yes.” “Yes. Three times the speed of sound.” “Yes. five hundred miles per hour.” Silently. Maybe by his own hand. “Do you believe it?” “Yes. But scary. “I guess he does now. sir. sir. The Fuehrer.” Roosevelt rubbed his face with a hand. Only Hitler thought Hess was representing him. that’s correct. “Are these direct copies of a German type?” Hollinger nodded.” “I see. therefore we think they’re from Hess’s actual typewriter. He sure does. sir. glancing over his reading glasses at Hollinger. that is. “There’s a few spelling and punctuation errors.” “The battle plans for the attack of Russia. We have no reason not to.” Hollinger confirmed. sir. “Hess claims the Germans have atomic weapons. “Concentration camps?” 41 . sir. Churchill’s men supposedly informed the Russian Embassy in Great Britain.
sir. But. What’s their method of execution?” His voice seemed weak. execution sites. MI-6 agents have confirmed everything as true. “In other words. I’m going to like you. both slowly grinning. Hollinger wanted to say. Auschwitz and Dachau have been around for a few years to house political prisoners and Jews.” “That’s correct. Wesley?” “I’ll try anything once.” The President seemed to deflate by the second. they are being converted over to what Hess described as—” “Internment camps. Now. Most of this is still in the planning stages. Hollinger was not accustomed to drinking before eleven in the morning.” the President answered. sir. sir. “Classic case of the inmates running the prison.” The President inhaled noisily. Roosevelt buzzed the intercom for his valet. Coffee isn’t strong enough this morning. President.” “Atta.” the President said. Mr. Some master Aryan race.“Yes. beneath the fancy words they have one purpose. Along with their version of genetic breeding. That is to enslave and to kill. perking up. He and Donovan eyed each other.” The President’s face went pale. “Have these reports been verified?” “Yes. What do you say to a martini? You game. “We don’t know that yet. “The Germans are methodical people. his voice rising. They go by several names. Two of note. boy. who 42 . I hope so. sir.
Donovan knew what he was talking about.” Hollinger confirmed. The President enjoyed doctoring up the exact amounts of gin and vermouth. But now we know it was a lie to entice the appeasers. The presidential martinis were great. “So do we.brought with him all the ingredients on a roll-out. On his first taste. “Thank you. The money was only the beginning of 43 . Mr. at first. I take pride in my bartending.” Donovan and Hollinger glanced at each other. Hollinger was sold.” Donovan said. “The one billion booty seemed legit. but came up short when they discovered Himmler had placed a secret codename to it. sir. MI-6 tried to access it. topped with a strip of lemon. “I’ve yet to taste a martini anywhere quite this good. “Sir. There’s no more than the equivalent of fifteen million dollars after the exchange – at most – in the account.” “Another set?” “Yes.” Roosevelt beamed. “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. “There was another set of proposals found. Wesley. then left. President. “Himmler? What does he have to do with this?” He paused to read.” “That’s not all with Hess.” Roosevelt buried his attention in the mimeographed copies handed to him from Donovan’s briefcase. holding his drink up. sir. Here they are. British agents in Switzerland checked it out.” Hollinger said.
” “No wonder the British are so tight-lipped about it. “’Fraid so.” “Churchill couldn’t tell you the truth. then attempted to fly out of Scotland for Ireland. In case the line was tapped by the enemy. “Himmler? That’s incredible. 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. and send a man over by sub instead.” “How long will the British keep this a secret?” “With the real Hess dead. they’ve discovered his name is Felix Schubert. “The man the Limeys have in custody is an impostor.” “But something went wrong.” “Who else knows?” “Only a handful. only—” “Hold on here. “Good Lord! Are you serious? An impostor?” Hollinger nodded.” The President was mortified. We think he had schemed to kill Hess in mid-flight. He had a plot of his own.Himmler’s participation in the Hess flight. With new experimental truth drugs. Himmler’s man shot Hess dead.” Hollinger said. What do you mean he shot Hess dead? Who the hell is behind bars in England?” “Sir. sir. using Hess’s aircraft. Part of the pact would see Himmler take over as the new Fuehrer. boy.” 44 .” “What!” “A Hess look-a-like. over the wire. to present a peace deal with the British.” The President raised an eyebrow.
” Roosevelt grinned. Neither will the Special Operations Branch of MI-6. “An impostor. Movies. sir. Mr. Churchill has made it clear that no one in England who knew Hess before the war will see the prisoner. President. What do you know? You saw this man.” A hush swept over the three men. . as the Brits say. It’s a desperate situation. Stalin is suspicious. then. did you?” “Yes.” Hollinger shook his head. a few members of MI-6. He’ll play along if he knows it’s his only way to stay alive. was the word. “Since the news of his flight. “It might look that way to him. meanwhile. is under heavy guard in a castle fifty miles southwest of London.” 45 .” “I see.” “Only a few choice people know. bringing the martini to his lips and swallowing.” Hollinger continued. glancing at Donovan. He’s convinced that Germany and England are plotting against him. “The likeness is pretty fair. he was the one who shot me. The impostor. Churchill. us three. unauthorized interviews are forbidden. He . Hallucinating. MI-5 don’t and will not know. “I saw both him and the real Hess up close.“It’s a massive cover-up. It’s labeled Most Secret. a few feet apart. . Hitler’s broadcasts said Hess was crazy. enough to fool those who had never met him face to face.” Roosevelt said. photographs. But that’s not the case.” “Oh.
” “I will. But damn it. when I see him.’’ Roosevelt nodded with a fluid firmness. One reason only. “I hope it won’t be too late. How and when is the question. They have me by the short hairs. 46 . Another administration in the White House would have passed England off as lost. There’s been a direct channel between us for two years. you’re already privy to some sensitive information. I decided to go for my third term of office last year for one reason. Not me. Not enough to send American boys over. he was headed back to Great Britain. Therefore. We see eye to eye. sir. I can’t afford to bring a divided nation into this. I’d be impeached by now. see I told you.” Donovan looked over at Hollinger as if to say. clenching the cigarette holder in his mouth. You’ve been a witness to some of this at Bletchley Park.Roosevelt sat up. Only Congress can declare war.” Hollinger felt at ease in his heart. it’s quite safe to tell you a story. Perhaps. My situation is critical. Tell the Prime Minister that. “Wesley. for England’s sake. We share secrets. one that Wild Bill knows well. “On the whole our country isn’t behind England. “we’ll get into it. Even though we’re already in it more than most Americans realize. England – Churchill in particular – needs this administration. If the truth were known about how we were secretly aiding Britain.” Hollinger said. Tell Churchill that and I will too. one of these times. We’re neutral and we don’t want to abuse the neutrality laws. a pride in his voice.
but your eyes and ears should be open for anything that might concern us as Americans first. Have a safe trip back. Donovan called him back to face the President.“Me too. you two. He only had to wait ten minutes to find out the verdict. “How do we know that the British aren’t holding anything back?” Hollinger had been considering that for weeks. boy. His future was being discussed in the Oval Office. And another chance with Roberta Langford. Wesley Hollinger. “Yes. “Return to England. Thanks for coming. Keep a low profile.” Hollinger was relieved. raising a finger. one of Wild Bill’s sidekicks. “so we can talk behind your back. Wesley. comfortable chair. I want somebody who can sink their teeth into the situation there. they aren’t.” “This has been a most enlightening morning.” Roosevelt said firmly. won’t you. Report directly to Colonel Donovan.” the President ordered.” Roosevelt returned the papers to Donovan. 47 .” Hollinger stood and crossed into the reception area and sat down in a wide. sir. “Shocking. that’s all they gave me. Him. “Wesley.” “Yes. he’d vote to gladly remain in England.” “Leave the room for a moment. the briefing at an end. If it was all the same to him. Wesley. “To my knowledge. Then again. smiling.” Donovan stood beside Hollinger. This is it?” Roosevelt waved the papers in his hand. sir.
grabbing his fedora off the arm rest. our little talk in the car about the war is not to be repeated to anyone. “What talk?” “Good boy. Hollinger. you’ll go far in the COI. Donovan turned to Hollinger.” 48 .“Thank you.” The President appreciated the remark. forget I said it. They knew which end was up. He was won over.” Hollinger cleared his throat. Hollinger came to some quick conclusions. They were ruthless with their opponents. the both of them. “And a special thanks for the refreshments. And they could drink at any hour. “By the way. sir. “Good luck. and God speed. Iron Asses. and in a low voice said. in a democratic sense. FDR and Churchill had a lot in common. Any day. my boy. looking up from his wheelchair.” Filing out in step with Donovan. Walking down a hall. In fact.” Hollinger replied.
His powerful binoculars would have to do the rest. The anonymous caller had warned him of that. So this was Camp Z. The grounds were also fortified against German Commando raids. He would have to stop his car a good mile back and take the rest of the way on foot.CHAPTER FOUR Camp Z – July 30 Once Stephen Jordan pin-pointed the general location of the mansion. Run exclusively by MI-6. Every soldier was outfitted with a firearm. which he knew was well back off the road. the other from the Scots Guards. He couldn’t go any further. He saw the red-brick mansion through the trees. either a pistol 49 . squatting down as he came to the edge of a clearing. he drove on with extreme caution. were detailed to guard the famous prisoner. so Jordan’s contact said. one from the Coldstream Guards. He left the car and worked his way through the thicket called Windsor Forest. Two detachments. He’d stick to what the anonymous telephone caller had whispered to him.
Jordan was told. The prisoner was out in the yard for only ten minutes. then a guard assisted him into the mansion. It didn’t matter. He couldn’t tell conclusively. he zeroed in on the prisoner’s face. Jordan shook his head. Four men were inside the barbwire barricade. Jordan flipped his darkrimmed glasses up into his hair and with the binoculars to his eyes. It was plain to see from a few hundred feet away. Disappointed. Jordan started to climb down. The soldier walked along the 50 . thirty feet off to the right. Jordan waited.or a machine gun. So watch it. making a slow. two guards propping him up. the back door swung open. The man on the phone was right for the umpteenth time. Then he stopped cold. slowly. It would have been easier to tell had he not sustained the injury because Rudolf Hess had a distinct walk. After an hour. Jordan pulled his hand out of the foliage. The prisoner was closer now. Jordan had heard of the prisoner’s accident. A man in dark clothing emerged. An armed soldier appeared. The prisoner’s upper leg was in a cast. 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. unsteady turn of the property in one corner. The German did look like Adolf Hitler’s deputy. The howling engine of an overhead banking fighter suddenly drowned out every noise for a few seconds. not to be heard. It was too far. A few had both.
and brought their firearms up. “Anything?” “All quiet on the eastern front. Pissing right under the tree! The strong smell of urine drifted up to Jordan. We’re getting paranoid. “Birds. another soldier stepped forward. Jordan clutched the trunk with one hand. his binoculars with the other.” one guard sighed out loud. When the guard finished up. The guards stopped short. Come along. Blasted! The soldier was relieving himself in the weeds. Before the tea gets cold.” “Let’s push off. “What was that?” They ran for the forest. Jordan held his breath.” The soldiers walked away into the clearing. The soldiers heard it. stopped. Tea time. All the soldier had to do was look up and Jordan was cooked. He closed his eyes and said a silent prayer. nearly gagging him. “Whew. He’d be marched off to the mansion and interrogated. The sound of the fighter was gone.clearing and stationed himself immediately under the tree. Then Jordan heard a strange noise. And he’d have a lot of explaining to do. It was very quiet now. Then two robins flew out of one of the trees. A hissing.” **** 51 . his Bren-gun by his side. Jordan moved his foot.
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. HITLER’S RIGHT-HAND MAN HAS RUN AWAY FROM GERMANY AND IS IN GLASGOW SUFFERING FROM A BROKEN ANKLE. Kirkpatrick told Jordan that he felt that the prisoner looked different than the Hess he had known in Berlin. HE BROUGHT PHOTOGRAPHS TO ESTABLISH HIS IDENTITY. However. a simple nobody who had become famous overnight by pure accident. 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 . Ivone Kirkpatrick. At the time. a man named David McLean. 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. and removed his glasses to rub his eyes. and the account from the ploughman who had captured Hess. Jordan poured over the crisp clipping which included the government’s official statement. RUDOLF HESS IN GLASGOW OFFICIAL. Kirkpatrick had since denied he ever said such a thing. Back in May. NAZI LEADER FLIES TO SCOTLAND. Jordan checked one such rumor out by asking someone he knew personally. HERR HESS. Jordan slapped the paper down. the BBC executive who made the official government identification of the pilot with the Duke of Hamilton.
Food. Jordan had a flood of questions. Permanent Under Secretary at the Foreign Office. And he probably wanted to stay anonymous. The editor of the London Times was one of those kept at length. OPERATION ORDER NO. The anonymous person knew a lot. with the genuine Foreign Office stamp. and even some little tidbits 53 . The second letter was one such signed and stamped verification. Only the name had to be filled in to be valid. May 18. what to watch out for and the dangers along the way.It seemed anyone who knew Hess on sight wasn’t allowed to visit him. books. Then came yesterday’s anonymous phone call. MOST SECRET. The location of the camp and the person’s duties were described in detail. how to get there. No contact with the outside world. It instructed a certain unnamed person to proceed to a place called Camp Z at 1200 hours on Sunday. But no newspapers or wireless. Four letters to him on newspaper office stationery had gone unanswered. recreation were to be provided. One was an official government document with a significant first line. Any visitors had to be authorized and signed for with paperwork by Alexander Cadogan. And two letters later left in his mailbox. He was responsible for the health and comfort of Prisoner Z. writing materials. And the steel magnate Simon Brenwood – Churchill’s fiercest opponent – refused to talk. 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.1.
And he was rude. He especially enjoyed beef and chicken dishes. Jordan remembered how Rudolf Hess walked. So inexperienced. forgetting it was not an option. Jordan didn’t miss the clues. Something – no! – a lot. For instance. like her husband.about the man behind bars. Not rude. He had spent some casual time with Hess at his home outside Munich in 1936. Ilse. and often wolfed them down. He had met and chatted with his wife. He was still an idealist. Vegetable dishes. Jordan could forget the whole Hess thing. the prisoner’s eating habits and table manners were atrocious. His first year on the job. Only a few years older. wiser. somewhat dimwitted. He sat hunched at the table. Fine woman. A bright-eyed idealist who sought the truth. upright. or perhaps Churchill was part 54 . He lunched with him. and a hell of a lot smarter. A precious few. of course. He was so young then. Proud. Jordan even took a turn with the Deputy Fuehrer on his beautifully-manicured property. Some close to Churchill. from an upper middle-class background. obnoxious. Hess was supposed to be a vegetarian. He was courteous. Jordan saw it for himself five years ago in Germany. Intelligent. Some people in London knew the truth. But for Jordan. Jordan had to laugh. didn’t fit. Barely twenty. elbows spread out. stiff. like the rest of England had settled to doing. He was a newsman who still felt compelled to find and report the facts. thank you very much. even under the cloud of military secrecy and the stiff censorship inflicted on newspapers during the war.
men will say. year to year. the whole world. will sink into the abyss of a New Dark Age. The powerful speech – still talked about in the free world – had helped to carry Great Britain through the Blitz and the Battle of Britain. If we can stand up to him. including all that we have known and cared for. Was this man imprisoned at Camp Z Nazi Germany’s Deputy Fuehrer Rudolf Hess or . But if we fail. made more sinister and perhaps more protracted by the lights of perverted science. 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.of it too. Ancient history in this war. including the United States. But that was last year. 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. . . ‘This was their finest hour. In 1940. 55 . all Europe may be free and the life of the world may move forward into broad sunlit uplands. where strategy was changing significantly from month to month. For the hundredth time today Jordan contemplated what had been driving him mad for weeks.’” It had been over a year since Churchill’s “Finest Hour” radio broadcast had inspired the free world. Maybe his whole damn cabinet knew.
No wonder. a radio station. By the summer of 1941. who had his own agenda for ruling by decree. military officers. one member of Parliament went so far as to say that the only way to fight Hitler was with another Hitler. a dull. a cabinet room. Appeasers feared him. Churchill a virtual dictator. and the Prime Minister’s office. Connecting dungeon-like rooms were ugly and damp. powered by compressed air. In private. Communication tubes. with exposed timbers.000 people. Insiders called it “The Hole in the Ground. In these surroundings stood a map room. braces.The voice behind that mighty radio broadcast puffed furiously on his thick Havana cigar this afternoon. he had the gall to exile the figurehead of the appeaser group. a power station. lit by candles in lanterns. the leader of the “British Peace Party” to Washington as Ambassador to the United States. lined the walls and whistled as messages were sent from one department to another. hunched over the end of the conference table in the underground War Room one hundred feet below Whitehall and his Downing Street residence. meaningless 56 .” Designed to house 2. Prime Minister Winston Spencer Churchill continued to conduct the affairs of his country at war with Adolf Hitler’s Nazi Germany. wires. and pipes. in the midst of musty smells. and newsmen were labeling the plump. Soon after. to the Bahamas to act as Governor. strong-willed. the Hole was the nerve center of the English war effort. He had banished Lord Halifax. Here. politicians. the Duke of Windsor.
All because the fools didn’t believe in the danger of air power. Great Britain had little left of her armed forces. But Hitler’s forces cut through them like a knife through butter. At his desk. dearly. few had been testing him now that the high-level Fifth Columnists were brought under control and were behaving. Since Dunkirk. It still bothered Churchill how France had capitulated so easily in 1940. across from the large-scale map of Europe. The French had the strongest Army in the world – on paper. Oliver. arrested. Strang. Over his cigar. Simon Brenwood. Brenwood. Butler. many wondered what he could do to others of lesser note. The Duke of Hamilton. And Churchill had Halifax’s successor. Enemy U-Boat strength had picked up. He was losing the war. at least. The Wehrmacht continued to goose-step across the Russian Plains. O’Malley. If the Prime Minister could take care of such VIP’s. leaving England in such a desperate state. Since the Hess flight. Churchill read a few copies of the Enigma intercepts – meteorological reports and 57 . such as House of Commons back-benchers who didn’t toe the line. the sixty-six-year-old War Lord was in a surly mood. He couldn’t continue to fight a war on just words. more Allied cargo ships were being torpedoed to the murky Atlantic bottom. As a result. with barely a fight. They paid for it.assignment for the man who had secretly supported Hitler all along. and he’d be the first to acknowledge it to close friends. Rommel – the Desert Fox – still had his way with the demoralized British forces.
Switzerland. they were on the standard eight-by-ten inch sheets. It reminded him of the Blitz last November 14 when Bletchley had intercepted four hours in advance the next German bombing target. Norway. Czechoslovakia. the date. Sent over from Colonel Lampert’s office. flying the Swastika. France. Latvia. Churchill had to let the raid go on.Hermann Goering’s orders to his Luftwaffe fighter and dive-bomber leaders on the Russian Front. running a country during a war. Each message indicated the frequency. He turned around to the map of Europe. Churchill found it alarming to know so much. The four neutrals – Sweden. Estonia. knowing that more lives would be saved in the long run. Churchill did not enjoy playing God. An ever-expanding portion of western Russia. where the black pins and red strings identified the boundaries of the Axis Empire. Frightening stuff. not to mention the guts of the message. Hungary. All under the shiny Nazi jackboot. Today’s intercepts spoke of a thrust to Leningrad. But if he had done that the Germans would have known their Enigma code had been broken. The Germans were unbeatable. with regret. Poland. It was to be Coventry. Terrible business. the time. Lithuania. 58 . Austria. Spain and Portugal – were the only untouched countries on the continent. Most of North Africa was Irwin Rommel’s domain. that evening! Churchill could have called for an evacuation of the city to save lives. the call-signs of the receiver and the sender. in the overall war picture.
To start with. Great Britain stood off to one side. older.” “Thank you. “Close the door. grayer. “He snores. isolated.” “Jolly good. I did. sir. one of those in the inner circle. Libya. sir. Churchill laughed. the two men had discussed Prisoner Z’s future should the British be victorious over Germany and should the impostor go to trial. Even lost my temper with him. He’ll cooperate. The door handle rattled. a mere twenty miles as the crow flies across the Channel from occupied France. sir. The other things?” A week before. And a chunk of Egypt.Algeria. Find a chair. “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. had arrived for the weekly in-person MI-6 progress report. we’ve increased the drug dosage in his food. Churchill peered over the rims of his half-moon reading glasses.” “Yes.” “How’s our lame man?” Churchill grunted. Do everything you can to safeguard him against any further incidents. his voice sturdy. and heavier of late. “Don’t we all? What about that little problem?” “I read him the riot act.” Lampert answered. colonel. Colonel Lampert.” 59 . Twenty miles from annihilation.” “It’s imperative that he does.
” “Jordan? From the Daily Telegraph?” “You know him?” “Yes. sir?” “I ran out. he unscrewed the cap and poured until the glasses nearly spilled over.“The handwriting? He’ll have to start writing to Hess’s wife soon. One of those old Anglo-German Fellowship Association clods. you know. But no whiskey and soda. have you?” “Yes. sir. His third written plea to me to see him. Covered the Berlin Olympics in ‘36 60 .” Lampert took his generous portion. With shaky hands. “To the war effort.” They sat around the table and drank.” Churchill smiled.” Churchill found the brandy bottle and two glasses in a side cabinet.” “Who is he?” Churchill dug for the sheet.” “Well?” “We found some pre-war notes in our files in Hess’s handwriting. “Come for your afternoon spot of tea. “Stephen Jordan. Churchill licked his lips. sir. An excellent offer that is fitting for the moment. “There’s people who want to interview the prisoner.” “Brandy?” “I’d be delighted. What’s her name?” “Ilse. A newsman. I have a letter right here. “Bottoms up. A good forger will do the job for us.
” “Is that so? Chances are he might have met the real Hess in Germany. Buried at sea. I’ll just ignore them.” 61 . filled it with some bricks. not a bleeding thing.” “Oh. the information. Alienate Himmler from the rest of those gutter rats. For the first day or so. sir.” Churchill bit the Havana cigar between his teeth. and dumped it a few miles into the Firth of Forth. yes. What did he say?” “It seems the trap’s been laid.” “It’s highly possible.” “Out of sight. And he knows the Duke of Hamilton quite well. cabled Headquarters this morning. “Operation Decoy. Schmidt. They put it in a crate. “Did you do what was necessary to Hess’s body?” “Yesterday. Switzerland is always our best source. yes. two of our men had it taken out of the ground.’’ Churchill nodded.for the Telegraph.” “I’m glad of that.” “I don’t like that. Anything else for me?” “Our man in Portugal. out of mind. sir. Then the German took a Lufthansa flight to Berlin early this afternoon. I suppose. He hoped this idea would bear fruit. Kenneth Sims. Our agents have their ears open for any information coming through our listening posts in the neutral countries.” “You think he’s heading straight to Himmler?” “Could be. Saturn. Use the Hess papers to their benefit. Deliver the first blow. after Sims gave the Gestapo man.
above and beyond his original proposals in Hess’s papers. Hitler said he is willing to give up some .” “Don’t remind me. more than anything. They’re waiting on my reply.” “Sizable concessions. . young Wesley. “He did! What offer is that?” “Yesterday. are they?” 62 . The President got the good word – the Hess proposals and the impostor information. a top secret communiqué came through our Embassy in Switzerland from the German Embassy. The two ambassadors are the only ones briefed.” “What’s in the offing?” “If England signs a negotiated peace to end the war.” Churchill said.” “You think Hollinger knows the score? Remember how the sneak outsmarted us with the Hess flight. his jaw thrust out. . “Lucky. That’s what really counts. for a promise of a free hand in Russia. He must see that. I want you to know that Hitler has given us an eleventhhour peace offer. “A cable came through yesterday.” Churchill cleared the bile in his throat. colonel. Hollinger and Donovan gave Roosevelt both barrels. certainly not since the attack on Russia. concessions.” “Have you heard from the Kid?” Churchill grinned for the first time. “Incidentally. As long as he told Roosevelt what we briefed him on.” Lampert’s eyes bulged.” “There’s no sign of a Channel invasion.“Precisely. Quite the lad.” “It doesn’t matter.
The colonel was one man who would dare to speak his mind. But I don’t necessarily have to follow it through.” Churchill cut Lampert short. Forget the whole thing as if it never happened! I’m not even going to discuss it with my cabinet.“Let’s say. “it doesn’t leave us in a bargaining position. The Prime Minister detested yes men. “We’ll see if Hitler pays heed to history. that I don’t wish to elaborate on. We’ll grind to a halt. I will tell our Ambassador to kindly inform the German Ambassador to go shit in his hat.” the Prime Minister said. What kind of peace will that be?” “I’m merely thinking of a temporary truce.” “You don’t say? Is he serious?” “That’s not the point! Serious or not. Germany will set the world price of oil. this can’t be leaked out to anybody. If Hitler is willing to deal.” “If Hitler’s willing to make concessions – whatever they are – for Russia. then don’t you think we should negotiate with him?” “If Rommel reaches the oil fields. colonel. Churchill didn’t object to men in the tight Whitehall circle doing that providing they eventually came to an understanding. he just may burn himself out on the Russian Front. Churchill’s understanding.” Churchill considered Lampert’s opinion. previously-occupied territory. sir?” “By all means. 63 . The winter spoiled his plans for conquest.” “May I make a suggestion. Remember what happened to Napoleon. of course.
despite the gloomy possibility of total defeat. Hitler has to give up North Africa too. “We are on some dangerous ground. He knew better than to press. . He wants the oil. sir. Between friends. Our Lend-Lease could come to an 64 .” “Nonsense! He won’t. you don’t suppose the President asked Hollinger if we had notified the Russians about Operation Barbarossa?” “I rather suspect he did.” Lampert caved in.” Lampert shook his head. .” Churchill didn’t mind Lampert’s honesty. will require some coaxing. I told you. School mates. Obey blindly. “Just some stretching of the truth. the issue is dead. Donovan is under our wing and he’s close to the President. we did too. There will be no Vichy-type government in England. .“We can always try testing him and come back with a clause of our own. providing there’s some shred of truth to it. What if they should discover we’ve been pulling their legs? It would cause a row in their papers. lying to. Mr. like any soldier worth his salt. Say . He’s a monster.” “You mean some . . on the other hand. The Americans. As far as Hollinger knows. “Peace with Hitler” was a dirty phrase in Churchill’s presence. Prime Minister. And not to be trusted. “Speaking of Russia. What did Roosevelt call him? My Secret Legs. We got the Russians into this war by sitting on our rumps and doing absolutely nothing to help them. They believe anything we tell them.
She knew him simply as Smith. she was given a window table.end. **** New York City At 11:40. Americans like that sort of thing. Good thing she had reserved. “My God.” “They won’t find out. He 65 . Aris trotted her way through the light rain to the restaurant within walking distance of her bank. colonel. what will?” “I have to wonder. sir.” Lampert nodded again. “As you wish. “One other thing. The consequences could be worse than what we’re facing now.” “I want you to keep an eye on Hollinger.” The colonel knew that watching Hollinger’s every move was easier said than done. We’ll just help him along. for it was busy early today. closed umbrella in hand.” “Yes. And he has to know it.” Lampert nodded. She always had to view the street. if the Jewish camps and the German technology doesn’t do it.” The Prime Minister laughed.” “The President is holding all the cards. Good for their ego. Just in case he finds out what’s really going on. I will have to convince Roosevelt in our meeting that the fate of the world lies in his hands. As usual. Donovan’s man arrived exactly on the hour.
He’s in his vault every day.S. “An invisible liquid of some sort.” “You think it’s invisible ink. not saying a word to her until they started on some hot coffee delivered by a cheery waitress. we’d have to either heat it or dip it into solutions. “Hello again.” “With what’s happening over in Europe. I did.” She looked around.” she replied. Filberg. remember. the colonel is very interested in anything to do with I. “Call me Aris. He pulled out a cigarette and lit it. then the 66 .” “He’s right. “Why not?” “I couldn’t chance it.was younger than her. Palini. Bill.” “Don’t I know it.” He was surprised.” the man said to the attractive. “You don’t know Chapman. and I’d be a suspect. That’s why I called him. He’d know when something’s missing.” Smith leaned forward. Lowering his voice he said. “Yeah.” Smith sighed. I guess you’re right. Bill tells me you came across a file on Filberg. “How’s my old boss. colorless vegetable juice. getting along?” “Swamped. don’t you?” Smith nodded. Could be milk. How could I bring anything with me? Fold it up? Even the slightest crease or fold in one of those papers. Mrs. in his twenties. a sugar mixture. Once we do that. for us to read it. “Mr. dark-haired thirty-five-year old woman of Greek descent. Mr.” “Did you bring any of the sheets with you?” “Of course not. Trouble is. He sat down and smiled.
good work.” “When?” Smith asked.” “Unless it’s read through a filter.” 67 .” Smith smiled wide. we can’t.S. you’re not supposed to read it. But I have to get into your bank to see the file. If that’s the case. Filberg. “The next occasion that Chapman leaves.writing stays visible. the huge German munitions conglomerate.” “Thank you. maybe he reads it through a filter. “Chances are that might be the case here. We can’t put the papers back in the file like that. At the same time. the ones used in a photo darkroom. Aris sipped her steaming mug of coffee.” “No.” “I’ll wait for your call. I wonder what’s coming off? Anyway. He’d have to access the material every so often. you would. “What’s so amusing?” “Quite the coincidence that your bank – a red-blooded American bank – has a file on I. So. we’re laughing.” “Yes.” He shrugged. Put ourselves in Chapman’s shoes.” “What kind of filter?” “Could be a common red safety type.
he hasn’t. The last ten weeks. Spoke with adjutant concerning Schmidt. Herr Reichsfuehrer. “Has Hans Schmidt arrived yet?” “No. No one of consequence could be spared. Heads would have to roll. I want to see him at once.” Himmler wrote in his date book: 16:45. 68 .” “When he does.CHAPTER FIVE Gestapo Headquarters. That was enough for Hitler to seek revenge and retribution. “Yawohl.” answered the alert male adjutant in earnest. Berlin – August 1 Heinrich Himmler pressed the silver-framed pincenez to the bridge of his nose and punched his intercom button firmly. regardless of who else is in the appointment slot. Reichsfuehrer-SS Heinrich Himmler had been methodical in his approach to the Hess case. Herr Reichsfuehrer. The Fuehrer said that Hess had intended to hand the British the plans for Operation Barbarossa. Herr Reichsfuehrer. Response would have to be swift.” “I understand.
Professor-General Karl Haushofer. the homosexual ring he belonged to in Munich. Albrecht’s father. the doctors. for it was he who would carry out Hitler’s decrees in the form of national emergencies. X.. Himmler had drawn up a numbered list and marked X’s beside each name. They were promptly arrested. Their associates. drilled. was brought in.. It didn’t matter now.That pleased Himmler. the therapists – who had treated him. So were their assistants. Number 16. All were interrogated. X. He wondered if she knew of her husband’s guarded background.. tucked away in prison writing sonnets to amuse himself. Their friends. the renowned father of Geopolitics. He was the true law of the land who held the power of life and death over Germany and her conquered territories. The dreamy idiot.. then freed. the former chicken farmer had stretched his tentacles and systematically directed the fate of the Deputy Fuehrer’s medical and physiological doctors – the mediums. under Himmler’s watchful eye. With a stroke of his gold pen. Albrecht Haushofer was one of the first put out of circulation. He was still in custody. He was Number 15 on the list. Himmler took to the new assignment with his usual structured energy and terror. 69 .. Most had been released by now. Or did it? X.. So were many of their friends and associates. Hess’s wife remained unscathed. The homosexual. And the astrologers Hess had kept strange company with.
The criminal. once the news broke of the Hess 70 . It was Bormann’s idea to officially announce Hess’s assumed mental illness before really thinking the whole thing through. Like so many others. Martin Bormann. He’d be Number 1 on a future list. 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. A great and wonderful X by Bormann’s name. Himmler was accountable to no one. . including the designers of the ME-110. In the resulting shield of confusion and paranoia. Himmler promised himself that he would get Bormann . bloated rat with a criminal record past. Himmler wished he could have arrested the entire Augsburg personnel too. . The German people were now saying that a crazy man had been second to Hitler. But that would be going a bit too far. by the Fuehrer’s orders. and that he had been harnessed by the British influence at an early age. A black Mercedes would pull up and throw him in. a country under British control. But a little scare wouldn’t hurt. soon. . That was fine with Himmler. whom Himmler could easily lie to for the sake of national security. . Bormann was just a slimy. Without a trace. had taken over all of the Deputy Fuehrer’s former duties. The airport and Messerschmitt factory staff. Felix Schubert’s family were wiped out secretly on May 13. one day . For now. Hess’s former chief of staff. Then he’d vanish. except Hitler.
.. doused with gasoline. Himmler still wondered who the man in British custody was. their husbands and their children were all shot through the head in their living rooms. His latest plan to rid Germany of Hitler was sound. Mutilated bodies of relatives and in-laws were piled near a lake shoreline.. Age was of no consequence. .. every day since May 13. was bound in the middle of the night. Seven X’s. and burned into the sand. X. X . The BBC broadcast stated that he first gave his name as Captain Alfred Horn..flight to Scotland..” Himmler was now about to make contact with the American Embassy in Berlin.. Even so. 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. Schubert’s married daughters. . Number 25. Nieces and nephews strangled. . Only Schubert knew that name.. X. lit. In two separate incidents. and 71 . within forty minutes of each other. his mountain resort in Southern Germany. More X’s. Kidnap his syphilitic highness on one of his next visits to Berghof. Aunts and uncles in the family were bound and drowned. Schubert’s wife. X .. taken outside her home and axed to death.
He would be the master spy of the super intelligence network that would devour the others. and the other outbuildings for the good of the Gestapo. Espionage. less than two hundred miles west. But to Himmler. Adolf Hitler. Him. He would demand absolute obedience to the state. The details were sealed away in a letter that Himmler would courier to an important American official close to his Ambassador. The biggest X of all . No more of the Fuehrer’s pathetic birds. his messy chocolates. the residence.whisk him off to Switzerland. the Gestapo leader would be the most powerful man on the continent. . . Heinrich Himmler. Spying was his lifeblood. Found them too double-hearted. the air-raid shelters. . The state in one word would be . spying meant everything in the grand scheme of things. . The German Secret Service headed by Admiral Wilhelm Canaris was one such agency destined to fall. the mighty Fuehrer himself. his useless wall maps. Canaris’s days were numbered. **** 72 . a letter that was presently tucked in a safe inside his first floor office at Gestapo Headquarters there at 4 Prinz Albrechtstrasse. and spying was of little importance to him. Hitler was too naive. He hated spies. The various organizations and agencies of the Third Reich would fall under his control. counterespionage. Himmler could easily confiscate Berghof and make use of the huge compound. The grand Fuehrermaster. He didn’t trust them. With Hitler out of the picture.
They treated him with great respect. I am the Deputy Fuehrer. He knew the British were trying to drive him mad . I am Rudolf Hess . He remembered a submarine trip. sat. Or is that my name? 73 . once she knew who he was. pretending he was on his feet. because after every meal he felt a warming sensation on the nape of his neck. Then by Reichsfuehrer. He stiffened to attention in the chair. . . But he called me Schubert. Where was he going? The sailors and officers were calling him Reichsfuehrer. They bowed. I am the Deputy Fuehrer . He read it in her pretty face. lifting his head. Falcon. . wrestling with the throbbing in his head. They told me I did. It was a struggle. Why not? I am Rudolf Hess . He was trying to confuse me. closed his eyes. . . They clicked their heels. The Englishman told me the same thing. . He was confident it was the food. and there was nothing he could do about it.Camp Z Prisoner Z lifted his head and chest. He walked across the floor. They saluted. She was surprised to see him. . She should. and put his head on the table. But she knew who he was on sight. The one who came to my cell. They knew who he was. then his entire body off the bed. . I know the Fuehrer’s innermost thoughts. the dark-haired woman on the beach called him by a codename. Who told me? The Englishwoman.
” Schmidt stepped in and saluted the man with the smile and thin moustache in the black Reichsfuehrer SS uniform. I am the Deputy Fuehrer.” 74 . “Herr Reichsfuehrer. Herr Schmidt. he said.” “Show him in. Come closer.” Himmler wrote the time of Schmidt’s arrival in the date book.” Himmler instructed his adjutant. Herr Reichsfuehrer. . Don’t be shy. “Heil Hitler!” “Heil Hitler. In a shaky voice. **** Gestapo Headquarters Himmler peered up from the lenses of his pince-nez. “Herr Reichsfuehrer. that it made you leave the sanctity of your beloved Lisbon?” Himmler beckoned his visitor.” The agent walked up and came to an abrupt halt. Sieg Heil! Sieg Heil! I am Rudolf Hess . I am grateful for your speediness in receiving me.No. “Yawohl. Some recent information has come to my attention that I felt I had to report to you in person. clicking his heels.” The adjutant bowed. I know the Fuehrer’s innermost thoughts. arm out like a ramrod. “What do you feel is so important. He ignored the dizziness and the discomfort of the cast on his left thigh. “Come. . “Then leave us alone. He stood and saluted. Hans Schmidt is here. looking straight ahead.
” “You must . understand the unpleasantness of it. .Himmler folded his hands over his desk papers. . . “He said that he was deserting the sinking ship. “That’s what he said.” Himmler felt a twinge in his spine. Of course. Herr Reichsfuehrer. Herr Schmidt.” “Have what? Spit it out!” “Have aspirations to oust Adolf Hitler and be the Fuehrer yourself. Totally ridiculous! You booked a Lufthansa 75 . . .” A sudden..” “What about the fool?” Schmidt licked his lips before going on. “What!” The agent stepped back. have. . I’m a busy man. some . you. have . controlled shockwave hit Himmler. . . . rumors since Hess’s flight to Scotland. “Hess?” “Yawohl. I said Hess was pronounced crazy by the Fuehrer and that we are the masters of—” “Never mind what you said. . He said it came from a good source. And the difficulty for me to say what—” “Never mind the speech. Schmidt! Tell me what it is. his eyes piercing.” The agent clicked his heels.” “I’m surprised at you! That is ridiculous. He said that . “Go on. . “A British Secret Service agent in Portugal approached me and said there’s been .. and smiled. . What did he say?” “He said there was turmoil in our High Command. He jumped from his chair and stood face to face with Schmidt. Herr Reichsfuehrer .
” “Yes.” The agent winced. no.” “What was his source? Did he have documentation? Any confirmation?” “Well . “I realize that. Don’t you see what the British are trying to do? They are desperate. He did not. I—” “Don’t you realize how utterly stupid you sound? We’re at war with these people. Herr Reichsfuehrer. and large.” “I forbid you to discuss this outside this room!” “Yes. “No one. his eyes frightened. Never! It is ludicrous to even think of it. Herr Reichsfuehrer. Do you understand me?” 76 . Herr Reichsfuehrer. Herr Reichsfuehrer. . . They will try anything to turn us against each other. I would never do anything to the Fuehrer. I did feel obliged to inform you of it. Herr Reichsfuehrer.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. no.” “To anyone! And avoid any similar situations at all costs. Never. Ignore these Englishmen. of course I knew that—” “Have you told anyone else?” “Oh.” “How very interesting.” “You didn’t see any papers?” “No.” Schmidt shook his head violently.
outside of intimidating him. He let Hess get away in a substitute aircraft.” “Yes. He was too valuable. Return to your duties in Portugal and make yourself useful. Go. “Well!” “He said that they know what we have planned for the Jews. “Very well. “Heil Hitler.” Looking relieved. “What does he mean by that. Schmidt was another matter entirely. But there is one other point that the British agent brought up. inches away.Schmidt nodded.” Himmler stared into the agent’s face. arm outstretched. How dare you! Dismiss. I will not. “Heil Hitler!” Himmler swung around. yes.” Schmidt’s voice was barely audible. But he had to. He blinked once. “Nothing at all! The British don’t know anything. Herr Reichsfuehrer. They made a fool of you.” Himmler turned away. Schmidt clicked off an arm salute. Herr Reichsfuehrer. Himmler had disposed of Geis over the Hess mission. Of course.” Himmler showed him the door. you are. I am sorry to bother you.” “As you say. Herr Reichsfuehrer?” “Nothing!” Himmler exploded. Schmidt. And don’t listen to any more silly rumors. stabbing a finger an inch from Schmidt’s face. Are you going to let them do it again?” “No. Herr Reichsfuehrer. the bumbling imbecile. “Yes. He had been forced to do nothing to Schmidt. Herr Reichsfuehrer. He couldn’t snuff 77 .
they could be testing others. and a huge double bed.S. heavy gold-colored drapes. From what he had seen of the other parts of the city’s plush hotel. Behind the 78 . He couldn’t kill them all. to surprising his parents in Rochester with a visit. Quebec. It was in this case. from his White House briefing with the President on the status of Great Britain and the Hess mission. On the way to the hotel. and check out two of the girls he remembered. Hollinger bought it. “This is living. including the fancy lobby. he found time to play some tennis with his younger brother. It was spacious.” Hollinger said to himself. and flopping backwards onto the soft bed. and the wide dance stage on the top floor. if the British were testing one German agent. Canada The Kid checked into his room at the Mount Royal Hotel that evening. he had stopped in at a book store and noticed an English translation of Adolf Hitler’s Mein Kampf. Today. Donovan had told him. he took a long bus trip over the Canadian border into Montreal under the cover of official U. Besides. Two days had gone in a flash. the elegant dining room. Hollinger was impressed with everything. Any good cover had to be at least close to the truth. Government business. with a large window. **** Montreal. Back home. tossing his fedora into a chair. man.him out.
He found he was always thinking of Roberta Langford now. that’s right. Come on. “Quite the place.” “Lead the way. A knock at the door sprang Hollinger off the bed. Montreal women that he had seen so far weren’t too bad. Larry.” “Why not?” 79 . Don’t get into any arguments with Frenchmen.” They shook hands. you’re the government man.” “Stick close. You’re American. “I’m Wesley Hollinger. Ohio. wearing dress slacks. tie. The pilot looked at Hollinger’s well-cut suit.” “Yeah. “Come in. “Larry Waden. The Lend-Lease observer.” Hollinger told him. You’re my pilot. here. The woman had smiled and he smiled back as he took the book and the change. We’ll show you the spots uptown.” A thick-set man in his thirties. though. “Can’t do anything in a hotel room by yourself. Especially the blondes. white shirt. like Robbie.” “It’s OK. Nice legs too. She was pretty. amused at his own cover. “You Hollinger?” “That’s me. Pleased to meet you.” Waden lit a cigarette.” “Where you from?” “Cincinnati. and a leather flying jacket entered. The door’s open. New York. aren’t you?” “You got it. So. I like it.” Hollinger said.counter stood a blonde woman. You?” “Rochester.
“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.
“Ere comes the rain. “Some long-range aircraft of theirs have been spotted on occasion. Jack Buford. Stephen Jordan felt like the foreigner that he was. “Condors. Before they come and hit our supply ships on the way to Britain. son. “Newspaperman. weather-beaten Scottish fishermen and farmers. They refuel subs too.” “Really?” Waden nodded. being the only man in the place with a suit and tie. a relaxed middle-aged group of thirsty. red-faced.” 97 . He was an approachable man about fifty. When he spoke.” the man said. The Germans are supposed to have a weather station out here somewhere. Yeah. nodding. his lips barely moved. 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.” Hollinger was taken aback. ‘Tis foul weather it is.“You better believe it. downing the last of the ale in his glass. eh?” Buford puffed on his pipe.” Waden shouted. thin patch of gray on his head. The story goes that they send daily radio reports to Berlin. there has been some mighty peculiar things around here.” “How do you know that?” “We picked up a signal on our set last month. Right about here. “It’s funny. He soon struck up a conversation with one of the counter patrons.
That strange Hess flight. Charlie.” “Really?” 98 . How’s the shoulder?” Out of the side of his mouth. in faded work clothes. “Oh.” Buford chuckled. People talk. You hear a lot of things in a country pub. “Just how peculiar?” Their attention was diverted to a man arriving through the main door.” Buford laughed. “Hello there. son?” “No. son?” “The peculiar things around here. Outside. he said to Jordan. in particular. The man was elderly. “Look what the wind blew in. shaking the rain off.” “What about it?” “You want some more ale.” “Thought I’d pop in for a few pints. To fix it up. thank you. Buford eyed the old man setting himself down across the bar. one of the radar technicians at Edinburgh – his father comes round occasionally – was told that the plane wasn’t to be touched. “Medicinal purposes?” “You bet. Hurt himself bad.” Buford lowered his voice. The inn shook from a blast of thunder. lightning rolled across the sky.” Charlie replied.Jordan glanced at the nearest of the windows. What about the Hess flight?” “The story is that the moment that plane was tracked. Yeah. “He slipped and fell off the dock in a rainstorm two weeks back. “Where was I. wet and dirt-streaked. cheerfully. No. yeah.
It was in a crate. Who knows? The Secret Service. “Really. They rented a boat one afternoon and took to the Firth. “A body?” “Yeah.” “That a fact?” “He’s sitting just over there. “Please.” Jordan hated stout.” “What two men? What did they look like?” “English. What else?” he said. Bennie Warner’s his name.” “A safe passage? Who has the power to do such a thing?” “I can’t answer that.” “Can you vouch for this?” “Can I! I know the man who drove them out. Do you remember anything else odd?” “Yeah.Buford nodded. son. Maybe that Nazi-loving sonof-a-bitch Duke of Hamilton fellow or someone higher than him.” “You and millions of others.” 99 . there was. or something or other. Buford looked around. anxious to get on with it. You sure you don’t want another pint of ale?” “I’m sure. That’s what I said. maybe. son. but she was a body nonetheless. It’ll put hair on your chest. I often wonder what that Hess fellow really was doing here. Safe passage. A body. What else?” “Try a stout. Like you. In trench coats. “Two men threw a body into the Firth a few miles from here. son.” he whispered.
” Warner belched.” “Didn’t I tell you. “Just want to tie up some loose ends. The three sat down together.” “They won’t do anything. “Buy me another bitter and I might be forced to loosen me tongue.” “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. what about that crate?” the writer asked. Bennie. “What’s to tell? Two men I never saw before paid me to take em into the Firth. “Tell him Bennie. and they threw a crate in the water.” “Come on. Come on over. Jack.” Buford urged his friend. “But they threatened me. not to blab it?” “I know. about the crate. and no one said another word until the filled glasses were brought over.” They got out of their seats and crossed the floor. Warner looked Buford’s age. by himself. but this Jordan fellow seems to be all right. “Now. 100 .” “What kind of crate?” Jordan asked. Buford made the introductions.” Jordan answered.“Where?” “The one in the corner. Laddie.” That was good enough for Jordan. He promises not to print anything. He quickly ordered a round of drinks. They don’t know where to find you. He had finished his third drink and was on his fourth rolled cigarette.
I promise not to print anything. But when she went over. one of the gentlemen said.” “Your friend. Buford here.’ The other one with him told him to shut up. He was growing increasingly nervous.” Jordan pulled out two business cards and gave them to the fishermen. and they told me to zip my lip. They paid me good. “I didn’t look at her. give me a ring in London. I don’t make of habit of looking at corpses. mister.” “Me too. Your names won’t be mentioned anywhere.” Buford said. “Thank you. Laddie. make sure they aren’t. Mr. said there might have been a body in there. If you hear anything. 101 .” The three clinked glasses. Kraut. ‘So long.” “So. If she was a corpse. it was a German body?” “How the bloody hell should I know.” “Aye. “And me. toasting his bitter with the men.” “What did you do then?” “I steered em back to shore. then drank. “Cheers. Bout the size of a coffin.” Warner sipped his drink. anything like that.” Bennie replied. “Or there be a great deal of trouble for me.“Long.” Jordan said. You have my word.
They were tired. heading for the open country. 102 . loomed straight ahead through a smoky haze. next stop. cold. The crew were anxious to touch ground. . and had to use the washrooms something fierce. and went. One Firth of Clyde trawler came . The Scottish Lowlands. hungry. sliding under the nose glass. He called Prestwick tower for an altimeter setting and landing instructions.CHAPTER EIGHT West Coast of Scotland Islands disappeared a thousand feet below. Once they made landfall at the Scottish coast. 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. Then another. the final stop for RAF Ferry Command. Hollinger dozed in the radio room. banking the aircraft. . “Prestwick.” Waden said to Hollinger standing behind him in the cockpit. his oxygen plugged in and checked periodically by the radio operator for possible failure. roaring over Glasgow on a southwest course. Most of the way.
It was in this area of Scotland that Felix Schubert had been shot down and forced to bail out three months ago.Hollinger had to smile. Waden dropped to full flap. Liberators. “Props?” “Twenty-four hundred. the concrete runways of Prestwick airport were clear for the landing.” “Intercoolers?” “Open. and locked. “Landing gear down. .” “Booster pumps?” Bridgewater hit the switches. head on his knees.” At 135 miles per hour. “Wing flaps twenty degrees.” “Wing de-icers?” “Off. He stepped back to the edge of the bulkhead and sat down. Throttling back to 155 miles per hour. 103 . Hollinger saw other ferried aircraft lined up at dispersal.” “Wheels?” “Gear down .” the copilot replied. pressing the landing gear lever. “On.” Waden informed the copilot. . “Wing flaps twenty degrees. Mixture?” “Auto rich. Hudsons. DC-3’s. Waden bent down right. Prestwick suddenly poked out of the mist.” “Cowl flaps?” “As required. A good sign.” On final approach. The aircraft shuddered and creaked for a moment.
The pungent smell of gas suddenly dominated the cockpit. onetwenty-eight. Lucky for them. tripping over Hollinger. Hollinger banged his head against the bulkhead. . Then the two starboard props clanked to an ominous standstill. . The undercarriage had collapsed! The Liberator pulled to the right. The left side quickly crumpled under the strain. “Everybody out!” Waden released his straps. Full on her belly now. Dazed.. “One-thirty . pulling Hollinger up with him. He turned around. “I’m going. while the horrified crew could only watch and ride it out. The Liberator slid sideways onto the grass. nearly knocking himself out. By then.” 104 . screeching across the concrete.Bridgewater called out the speed. These guys knew what to do.” The runway reached up for them. The pilots knew they were in a pickle. Hollinger leaned on an elbow and sniffed. Hollinger was unconcerned. the aircraft spun completely around to a full stop. jolting from his seat. Hollinger was thrown across the deck. his head coming to rest at Waden’s boots. The main gear hit the runway with a strange thud and the right side of the aircraft crushed to the concrete. throwing the crew to the right.. “Get up. followed by the nose wheel. Waden and Bridgewater powerless to control the direction of the aircraft. and get your ass outta here!” he yelled. Then it all happened so fast. the other two props clanged to a dead stop.
“Yes. stretched. “Thought I’d catch some shuteye. badly in need of a shave. and yawned. today. How goes it.” “The Big Guy? Today?” Lampert nodded. He rubbed his face. rattled their eardrums.The men scrambled. It was the Judge. to the middle of the aircraft. Three hundred miles and a debriefing with the Prime Minister. Wesley? There’s work to be done. Hop to it. pipe in mouth. a second apart. What a schedule.” Hollinger looked at his wrist watch. glowering down at him. “What are you doing here?” “Change of plans. bunched together as one.” Hollinger slid off the bench inside the airport. “What the devil are you lying about for. Winnie wants to see you.” 105 . The men leaped out.” Lampert ordered. after midnight.” “No rest for the wicked. **** Prestwick Hollinger felt a shove in the ribs and opened his eyes. I came up to give you a lift to London. leaning on the suitcase he had used as a pillow. They managed to get forty feet in the clear when two explosions. Churchill awaits us. “What gives? We won’t get to London till. what. colonel?” “Get up. The radio operator kicked open the fuselage door. hurtling them to the ground. He looked awful. hell. “Run!” Waden cried.
He never sleeps. rolling down the passenger window part-way to allow the smoke out. There was nothing left to salvage. A little too much.” Hollinger replied.” “All right. We could have been fried if we hadn’t gotten out in time. And 106 . Time is of no consequence to Winnie. . they piled into Lampert’s Austin and began their long drive south.” Lampert reached down for Hollinger’s bag. “Do you recall that newspaperman I spoke to you about? Jordan?” “Yes. sir.” Hollinger sighed. Come along.” No one spoke for several minutes. colonel. Prisoner Z at Farnborough. Lampert lit his pipe. I remember. They figure the locks malfunctioned. I’m hungry. Lucky for us. “I heard it was a wee bit of a rough landing.” “Yes. only the navigator had a few scratches. What did he do now?” “He’s snooping. I brought along some sandwiches. “From the Daily Telegraph? The one who’s been writing Churchill to see . You should know that by now. We’ll eat along the way.” “Never mind. “Yeah. sir. “Not so fast. Before long.” “What happened?” “The undercarriage snapped on landing.” Outside. it was rough. He’s been asking questions around the area we dumped Hess’s body. He hated how the English always understated things. let’s go. .“Doesn’t matter.
” “Swell. I’m too busy. Always coming up with something or another. he’s still thinking up a storm. sir. sir. “Oh.” Lampert asked.” “No. “how did you get on with the President?” “You’d like him.” **** 107 . “Thank you. Wesley. lad.” “I’d advise you to take some additional weapons training. And how’s Donovan?” Hollinger sighed. “By all means. “Incidentally. is it?” “Correct. I saved you the crosswords. he had gotten into the habit of doing the crosswords in the London Times.” “Tell me.” “Interesting. He had no choice and he knew it.he tried putting pressure on the Duke of Hamilton to pull some strings for him.” Hollinger grinned. Of course not. “But don’t do them on company time.” Hollinger sighed.” “Is this leading to something?” “We’ve commenced a twenty-four hour shadow on him.” While laid up in the hospital back in May and June. I’m asking for a volunteer before I pick you?” “Special duties. He can mix a great martini for breakfast. I bet?” “Precisely.” “An interview.” There was another long pause.
I heard a few things during my 108 .” COI Director Colonel Donovan looked down at the photos in his hands. we presume. He was pleased with Smith’s photos.” “I don’t doubt it. what I’m about to tell you can’t leave this room. left then right. Can’t conduct a war without ball bearings. “Thank you. What is it?” “You’ve stumbled on a can of worms.” “Yes. seeing that it was in their file. D.” “You mean it might not?” “Smith. “I shudder to think.S. and through the parent German company. seated across from the powerful man. – August 3 Donovan smiled. Now we know that Kerr. A twenty million dollar loan to a German ball bearing plant.C. Aris.” Smith said.” “Yes. You must be briefed on some details. sir. I.” Donovan spun slightly in his office chair. How is she? Still as beautiful as ever?” “I don’t know what she looked like before. can you?” “No you can’t. reading. when she was your secretary.Washington. Filberg. “There it is. “Nice work. sir. Chapman & Company is dealing outright with the Nazis. But she sure as hell turned some heads in that New York restaurant yesterday. 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. “We owe it all to Aris. sir.
days as a Wall Street lawyer. “Henry Ford! I don’t believe it. Loeb & Company.” Donovan shrugged. when you consider that Chase Bank in Paris has been operating wide open since the Nazi occupation last year. At least. eh? I’ve heard of them. with strange bedfellows. boy.” Smith froze to his chair. Why would the Nazi’s go to them? Why not some of the larger outfits?” “Maybe the others weren’t playing ball. This is the world of high finance. “What. Loeb. Kuhn. I can’t really see that. sir?” “Kerr.” “Kuhn. Did you know that they have an American Board of Directors?” “Are you serious?” “Perfectly. hang onto your hat.” “Yeah. a third or a quarter the assets of the big Wall Street banking houses. “Probably. and get this. Chapman is only a small Wall Street banking firm. Filberg?” “It’s a German munitions conglomerate.” “Who?” “Paul Warburg of Kuhn. and none other than the man who put America on wheels.” “Well.” Smith folded his arms. You know. Loeb are mainly Jewish.S. Or I should say I don’t want to.” 109 .” “It’s true. I don’t get it. a fairly large Wall Street investment house. Henry Ford. small in comparison to the others. I saw things. What do you know about I. Smith.” “Somehow. Also on the board is Charles Mitchell of the Federal Reserve Bank of New York.
Most of the board of the directors on Kerr.“It has?” Donovan nodded. Supported Hitler since day one. “Sir.S. Lots of it. was one of the founding fathers of the U. “You bet it has. Chapman are Jewish.” “Meanwhile. Keep that under your hat. A Nazi sympathizer. I know that through our agents in France. Vince. too. Weird fellow. we had better keep an eye on Kerr.” Donovan set the photos down on his desktop. Anyway. what do you know about Aris’s boss. William Chapman. Ironic. and so promptly.” “Yes. But I thought the Nazis hated Jews.” Smith sighed.” “Fancy that.” “You mean Aris will. Chapman.” “Is he now.” “Thanks for coming. she’s our key. 110 . he’s Jewish too. these Jewish bankers here couldn’t care less what the Nazis did and are doing to their own people in Europe. Federal Reserve in 1913. And the strange thing is.” “With a name change. What gives?” “They got money.” “I guess not. His uncle. damn it. Chapman?” “Vincent Chapman? Met him a couple times. from what I can recall. isn’t it?” “I’ll say it is. Banking ran in the family. Keep in touch with Aris and me on a regular basis. Furnishing the Nazis with loans. sir. Smith.
well briefed by the Kid.. would be on his way to his Atlantic conference with Roosevelt. a box in his arms.” **** MI-6 Headquarters It was still as hot in London this Saturday as the day he left. Aris is married. monster. her quick trot echoing in the corridor.” “What did you do that for?” “Aren’t you glad to see me?” 111 .” “Hi. she’s too old for you. Tomorrow. beautiful. Besides. Smith. chewing gum. dropping her papers.” “Goodbye. A twohour private audience with the Prime Minister and a three-hour sleep were behind him now. sir.Smith stood. and took to the corridor. The prodigal son returneth. Hollinger turned a corner and there she was coming his way. you.then jumped out and yelled.” “She sure don’t look it. He waited. “Freeze!” Langford screamed.” “Happily?” “Yes. “And remember. “I will.. He set the box by his feet and hid in a doorway. Hollinger threw his hat on the desk in the Whitehall office allocated him in early July. “Wesley! Oh. Roberta Langford was always in a hurry. head down. Churchill.
” She put a hand on her hip.” he said. yes. “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. you look ghastly. “At your flat. folding his arms. too. Executive Assistant Enigma Operations. down on the sides and back.” She curtsied.” He laughed. Sorry I asked. I’m ready for that dinner you promised. Rather becoming. touchy. I saw your new title on your door. her hand to her chest. But the Colonel said you still work for me. gently. I forgot.” 112 .” “Oh. and high heels with round toes. the day before I left?” He leaned on the door frame.” “Only when called upon. She had on a trace of lipstick and makeup. up in the front.She gasped for air. I like it better the other way. “Have you done something to your hair? You tied it back. Too matronly. he gave her the impression that sleep was unimportant. Don’t you sleep?” With one look. Didn’t I. “Thank you. I’ve been so busy. By the way. “There you go. “Under the circumstances. “What dinner?” “Remember. “Do you now?” He observed her dark-green. no. Fancy. You know. Besides.” “You think so?” “I do. broad-shouldered jacket with matching skirt.” “But the hair has to go. “Nice outfit. I did.” He helped her pick up the papers.
” He bent down to lift the box. “Don’t look so enthused. “For me?” “Yes.” She perked up. I could mosey on over tonight.” 113 . On second thought. You like me.” “Don’t be too sure about that. What do you say to kidney pie and Yorkshire pudding?” “Oh. for you.”‘ “Then break it. letting loose with a slight grin.” “Sorry. I was just about to put it on your desk. he said. Silly me.” “Incidentally. I’ll try and force it down. You know. Honest. “But I’ll have to break a previous tentative engagement. OK. “I can never get mad at you. “A package came for you. it is.” Hands in his pockets.” she sighed. I’ll be working late. “What’s that?” “What’s what? Oh. I didn’t want the enemy to know who you really were. “Atta girl. I’m holding you to it.” “Don’t like the menu?” “Just kidding. deep down inside.” “Tomorrow?” “Tomorrow. Is that all that’s left in England? Organ meats? Next thing you know I’ll be eating haggis.He nodded. I wish you hadn’t put Redhead on an official trans-Atlantic cable.” Hollinger laughed. “Security reasons.” She smiled fully.” She shook her head and looked down at the floor. that. you’re cracking. Special delivery. rocking on his heels.
the likes she hadn’t seen since 1939. a small bottle of French perfume. I’d better take the papers to the colonel. It’s almost gone. the box was on her desk. some fresh oranges. Her eyes bulged. a tin of American coffee. Hollinger was nowhere to be found. Bless him. mein Fuehrer. six Baby Ruth chocolate bars. “Yawohl. Shan’t be long. In the land of rations and scarce commodities these were a gold mine of treasures. The commando squads are following orders and performing admirably.” “The Jewish problem. What a sweetheart Hollinger was. Thanks for asking. **** Gestapo Headquarters Spy master Heinrich Himmler did his best to stay cool and collected when the Fuehrer telephoned from the Russian Front. I have a report. now.” When Langford returned to her office. five packs of Wrigley’s chewing gum.” “By the way. Be right back. She pushed her anxious hands through the contents – three pairs of silk nylons.“If you’ll excuse me. how’s the cold?” “Fine.” “You’re welcome. and different shades of lipstick. She pulled at the wrapping tape and opened the flaps. how is that coming along?” 114 . When he wanted to be.
” Adam Eiser dared to show a ragged smile.“The special camps will be running at full capacity.” In a few moments. mein Fuehrer. Herr Reichsfuehrer. Himmler stared at his resummoned visitor. and then we have construction of the units. you might say.” “Worried. the paperwork and the blueprints. mein Fuehrer.” “Ask Herr Eiser to return at once. mein Fuehrer. the bidding. just tell Hitler what he wanted to hear. “Yawohl. Himmler knew the cocksure agent wouldn’t be a pushover like Schmidt or Geis or the others. 11:15 – spoke with the Fuehrer on the Jewish problem. by the end of the year or early next year. “How is our Fuehrer. The Filberg organization says it’s an instant kill. Organizing the prisoners into staging areas for transport.” “Yawohl. “Why the delay?” “It is taking some time for the logistics.” “And the chemical? What is it called?” “Zyklon-B. Herr Reichsfuehrer.” Himmler wrote in his date book. Herr Reichsfuehrer. For now. Hydrogen cyanide crystals.” **** Himmler hung up.” “Speed it up! There is no place for the unfit. The 115 . “Yawohl.” Himmler knew that to be a lie. and pressed the intercom. Merciless.
He was fond of inflicting pain and death. A mere mention of his intimate relations with known Berlin prostitutes – the evidence in Himmler’s Gestapo dossier – was the convincing factor. Himmler’s file on agent Eiser was clear. and that was to spy on the German Intelligence High Command based in Berlin. Recruited by Canaris in 1940. six-foot-four. 116 . He had acquired the necessary data needed to report to Canaris. He was making a very decent living as a “specialist” in a market that catered to his talents.flamboyant. Anyone who could outsmart Admiral Wilhelm Canaris. He was one of the few men Himmler respected. Canaris had no choice. and had his own unusual code of self-preservation. Canaris was the one who forgot to cover his own tracks. thirty-five-year-old agent with the unblinking. He took the jobs no one else wanted or could do. Eiser had been handed what some would consider a thankless assignment. He was useful. ice-gray eyes was too clever for that. He worked for money and the Nazi ideals he had cherished since his teenage years. He took risks. Eiser was a smart snitch who covered his tracks. Eiser had guts. Himmler admired snitches who worked for him. the German Secret Service chief. and get away with it he had respect for. 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. all the while going straight to Himmler – by his own initiative – and reporting to the Gestapo leader on everything he was telling Canaris.
. high cheek bones. . The second a . prominent jaw. Hats were popular where he was going. After these two. Eiser looked too Nordic.” 117 .” “The usual fee?” “Better. “Yes.” “What is the second?” “I’ll get to that. Nothing could be done about the eyes and deep voice. You will confine your activities to—” “England?” Himmler nodded.” “The business cartel?” “The same. All expenses paid. 50. Much better.” “Who.000 pounds sterling in your Zurich account. Herr Eiser. . The first one is your old stomping grounds. He studied Eiser’s features to confirm his evaluation. A new donor has stepped forward. He’d have to start wearing a hat. Filberg.S. if you don’t mind me asking?” “I. But the long. An interested rich party. Herr Reichsfuehrer?” “Two jobs. The first job . “I like them already.” Eiser’s eyes gleamed.” “Germany?” “You are reading my thoughts. “What exactly did you have in mind. light hair. Herr Eiser.The Reichsfuehrer-SS wiped his pince-nez clean. . a well-deserved month’s vacation to the Riviera. backyard job. And I’ll throw in a bonus. and Roman nose could go.” “I thought you might.
” Himmler smiled. Herr Reichsfuehrer?” “Certainly. No radio communication with Hamburg once you are there. Probably guarded like no other person on all the island. “Yes. falsified papers. I understand.“England? Germany? Highly unusual. and a perfect cover for you. Herr Reichsfuehrer?” “You’re only contact will be our agent Denise.” “What exactly is my job?” “Kill Party member Rudolf Hess. I hear. wouldn’t you say?” Himmler smiled.” Eiser didn’t speak for several seconds. Herr Eiser.” “But he’s in British custody.” 118 . “Yes. You know Hess. I have a plan. The person in custody may not be the genuine article.” “May I be so bold as to ask why you want him dead. Herr Eiser.” “Yes. naturally. For the first assignment.” “I know that. I wouldn’t get very far. “I know that too. you will be in and out.” “I’ve heard of her. “Kill Hess?” he said. a new identity. she is. Someone could have inserted an ersatz Hess. as if he asked the question every day. Herr Reichsfuehrer.” “And I’m a wanted man in England. And she’s pretty too.” “Why is that.” “Who?” “The British.
bringing Party Member Hess to mind. Don’t worry. a specialist. Twice.” “Where. “Why is I. I know someone who will help you in your identification of the Deputy Fuehrer when the time comes. How will I kill him under the English noses?” “Lethal injection. he dies. suspicious of anyone too close to the Fuehrer. Herr Reichsfuehrer. While you’re there. slim. Herr Reichsfuehrer?” 119 . I have to send you somewhere. “Yes. at the Chancellory. 1939. . Herr Reichsfuehrer. But first. Hess was tall.” “Kill him?” “He’s crazy. I met him.” “Yes. Filberg so suddenly interested in Hess?” “It doesn’t concern you.” “But what?” “That was some time ago.. cool. isn’t he?” “So the German radio and newspapers say.” “Very good. “What if he’s the real Hess?” “Simple enough.” Eiser considered what he was up against.. Clear enough?” “Yes. Will you still take the first assignment then?” “Of course. to see . Either way. The first meeting was in the Chancellory. kill him anyway. Takes only seconds to work.” Eiser sat up.” “I see. December. Briefly. But. wore a meticulously-cut uniform with the shiniest black boots. He was clever. . or me for that matter.” “I thought you might.S.Eiser folded his hands in front of him. I must know one way or the other if the man in Churchill’s hands is Hess or an impostor.
In the first nine hours of the attack.“A trip over the border. In silence and solitude over his wide map of the Eastern campaign. he had single-handedly captured enemy soldiers at gunpoint. Since the attack on Russia. In 1917. and mineral water.000 Russian aircraft. armor.” Eiser said. “What is on your mind. and within a week ninety percent 120 . East Prussia His First World War Iron Cross reflected the strong indoor lighting. coupled with precise radio communication was a well-oiled machine. directing the war against his hated Communist enemy.” They stared at each other. His Blitzkrieg forces were advancing swiftly into the heart of the Bolshevik empire.” **** Rastenburg. “I see. Just kidnap him. Herr Eiser?” “What does my backyard job entail?” Eiser laughed. The network of fighters. his fortified bunker close to the Eastern Front. yogurt. For onehundred thousand pounds. Adolf Hitler began to consume his light lunch of raw vegetables. “Kill the Fuehrer?” “Oh no. bombers. his forces destroyed over 1. and infantry. Nothing like that. The decoration was the one possession he was most proud of. Switzerland. more than twenty years later. he found himself spending most of his time here at Wolf’s Lair. the one he had worked the hardest for.
Speed! . They escaped. Hitler’s deepest innermost thoughts were directed at the British. Churchill – he is the one who’s poisoned their minds. Britain’s Prime Minister during the Great War. David Lloyd George. not the British. They didn’t sign. Although Russia was his prime target. Now they were interfering with his plans for expansion. They were poking their noses where they didn’t belong. . He ordered the panzers to hold up at the beaches to give time for the British to surrender and ink a peace deal. Lloyd George should be in 121 . like the world had never seen before. They were supposed to be his blood brothers. Both had visited Germany and Berghof. But they didn’t talk. England fought the Battle of Britain bravely. They were numskulls. He had introduced a radical change in tactics in which air power was the key. Hitler snickered. He allowed the miracle at Dunkirk to take place. He couldn’t understand why they were still fighting him. It was so useless. and declared their unquestionable admiration for the New German Order. and Britain had better stay out of it now. and the Duke of Windsor were Hitler’s favorite Englishmen.of their front-line aerial strength. but stupidly. Speed! Lightning war. . It wasn’t any prelude to invasion as Churchill had bellowed in his broadcasts. . Speed! . All Europe was his. His heart ached. . It was a tactical bluff to lure England to sign a peace pact. There was no point to invading England. Hadn’t they read Mein Kampf? Had he written it in vain? Bolsheviks were the German enemy.
Churchill’s pawn. He was counting on a twenty-week campaign to finish off Stalin’s forces. Hitler reflected on Hess and the ill-fated flight. Whether the British and Russians had intercepted the plans for Operation Barbarossa or not. 122 . his fingers crinkling the blinds. not that Jew-loving Churchill. the Fuehrer had decided. She kissed the officer lightly on the lips and climbed in. furious that his peace offer to Churchill was thrown back in his face. **** MI-6 Headquarters Hollinger stood at his Whitehall office window and faced the car lot. It was all going to his plan. Five months. Then total capitulation. it didn’t matter. Tops. not his brother George VI. Hess. No negotiated peace. 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. It was the only way now. A beaten Russia would sign. There would be no mercy on them. who had refused the latest generous offer of concessions. Hitler hammered his fist on the table. Hollinger watched every one of her graceful moves. And the Duke should be on the throne once more.power. Only unconditional surrender. He was already a quarter-way there. Through the slit he saw the RAF officer open the car door for Langford. you nincompoop.
Why her? There was no denying it. But damn. Hollinger was taken by Roberta Langford. He yawned once more. Was the Englishman the previous engagement she would have to break? Hell. Wake up. What did she see in the schmuck? At least he had good taste. Then he thought about something. And a redhead who smoked! “Some guys have all the luck. too. after all the jokes he used to make about redheaded women. With the lipstick he had bought her in Washington! How long had this relationship been going on? What a rail he was. closing the blinds and returning to his half-finished crossword. And he did for a time. He closed the blinds. But seeing her again brought back the fervor. though. A year ago this would not have been possible. 123 .” he mumbled. The nerve of her. they kissed. She was probably wearing the nylons he gave her. Hollinger yawned. he thought he could forget her.The two drove off into the light surface fog. In the States. sleepyhead. Langford. cursing under his breath. No great catch on her part. He was falling for a redhead.
124 . typewriters. Switzerland was a small country wedged between the borders of Germany. and France. The Swiss deplored the Nazi tactics. By 1941. Sunday started out quiet for Shean. 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. During off-hours. She had declared herself professionally neutral in 1815. David Shean was there to greet it.CHAPTER NINE Zurich – August 4 With a clank of wheels and a hiss of steam. and had remained that way ever since. following the end of the Napoleonic Wars. Western countries called the Swiss ‘cynical opportunists’ and ‘renegade Germans’. she had been growing rich off the Second World War by banking for the Germans. and radios. the Munich Special jerked into the train station. a Mondaythrough-Friday salesman dealing in telephones. Italy. although it didn’t stop them from exporting a major portion of her goods to the Third Reich. and surrounded by a natural barrier of mountains.
He had a memory for such things. The Swiss had a favorite saying: “Six days a week we work for the Germans. Meanwhile. No one was inside the lobby. 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. Hitler had a thousand agents in Switzerland. They had a long-standing nickname for him – Acid Man. He was in his thirties. On a Sunday? Shean followed. nonchalantly. On the seventh day we rest and pray for the allies.” This Sunday. Brown hair. his eyes searching the storefront windows. The Americans and the British also had hundreds of their own agents in the country and they used their respective embassies for communication channeling. took to the street on foot and followed the man. cold eyes that first pinched a nerve in Shean. A crowd was always a good cover. No hat. The sidewalks were moderately busy with morning traffic. Metal elevators were 125 . carefully. Six blocks from the station. hundreds out of the ranks of the Gestapo. Shean kept him within sight at more than forty feet back. Shean was surprised to see Lancer slip through the revolving glass doors of a ten-story office building. But it was the brutal. and merely kept walking. It was Lancer.Germany criticized them for being a haven for Jews and Marxists. What the bloody hell was Lancer doing here? Shean tucked his newspaper under his arm. Twice Lancer turned. No mistake. two or three inches over six feet. slowly.
Files littered the floor. **** MI-6 Headquarters.” “Right away. Wesley. Wrigley’s. sagging from the weight. “Ring Hollinger for me. He had lost him. Immediately. “Spare me a few moments. Hollinger appeared in under a minute. London Sunday at the office wasn’t any less busy than any other day. Lampert said to her. Shean grunted. No movement by the numbers overtop. From the good ol’ USA. Any instructions?” “Tell him to see me here. Margaret?” “Yes. An organized mess. I wish to have a word with you. sir. Colonel Lampert’s secretary would always promptly serve the first tea of the day at 10:30.” Content with his tea. He lit his pipe and the sweet smell of pipe tobacco filled the air. Want some?” 126 . colonel.straight ahead. Lampert waited patiently. the colonel’s spacious office contained stuffed bookshelves. would you please.” “What’s that in your mouth? Gum?” “Sure is.” “Sure. No one was on the stairs to the right. When she arrived exactly on time. As was the custom. looking across the room to the framed pictures of Churchill and King George VI.
How did you do at the firing range?” “Not bad.” Lampert then walked Hollinger through the SimsSchmidt discussion in Portugal. cracking his knuckles. the pistol that had been his companion of late was visible. I don’t want any gum chewing in my office. grinning. based on the Schubert’s peace papers. Goes to work. sir. I think we’re wasting our time. “How’s the shadowing?” He took a swallow of the tea. “Oh. and Schmidt’s subsequent flight to Berlin. Nothing out of the ordinary. strapped to a chest holster under his jacket. or somebody else’s?” Hollinger laughed and sank in a chair.” “Keep on him. “Yes.” Hollinger lifted his foot and stuck the gum to the side of the shoe. for the love of—” Hollinger glanced up.” “Yes.” Lampert demanded.” “Yours. Or goes out for a few bubblies. monitor his reaction and see whether the information will climb the ladder. Hollinger shrugged. “What’s the matter?” “Never mind. “Jordan’s a good little boy. “Winnie named it Operation Decoy.“Certainly not. We want to isolate the Fuehrermaster. Get rid of it. I think I hit the target a couple times. goes home to his wife. Lampert had two files on his cluttered desk. then goes home to his wife. Maybe we can spark a sudden turn of events that will 127 . sir. If you say so. We’re feeding information to those close to Himmler. beneath a bright desk lamp.
“Yes. “Adam Eiser.” “He’s rather keen on Lawrence Olivier movies.” The American read the tab in the top corner.” Lampert moved a file towards Hollinger. You know.” “Ordinary codename. Switzerland.” “To each his own.” 128 .trip up the upper echelon of the regime. It’s just .” “By whom?” “Me. Maybe his parents didn’t like him. . . Say it fast and it comes out like atomizer.” “Who do we have here?” Hollinger asked. Comes highly recommended. dragging on his pipe. I saw it. Betty Grable. laying it open for him. in his forties. if you would. Lampert took the file back and gave Hollinger another. Better yet. It wasn’t very good. “His codename is Lawrence. “His name is David Shean.” He pointed at the picture. Hey. how about that. “Look at this.” Lampert frowned.” “Why should it?” “You never know.” “You heard of him?” “No. I hope it doesn’t backfire on you. The American saw the photograph of a man with a receding hairline. turning the file his way. A Yank in the RAF. Perhaps cause some infighting or topple it. MI-6 out of Zurich. “Take a look.” “OK. Good man. the name. You know what I mean?” “Wishful thinking. I prefer Clark Gable.” Hollinger muttered.
let’s get back to the file. it doesn’t matter. It took awhile for it to register on me.” “You’re kidding. A-Man is undoubtedly short for Acid-Man. An uncoded transmission is above suspicion if it looks innocent. right?” “I don’t kid.” “What’s unusual about that?” “Last we heard.” Hollinger took the sheet from Lampert’s hand. Eiser was in South America. Then there are master spies.” “You think someone sent for him?” “Yes. A nickname someone in MI-6 had given Eiser years ago. He can get it to us in minutes.” 129 . which this is. Something significant might be in the offing. Eiser is the latter. A-Man. Our agent even changed his codename a tad to Larry. Shean saw him in Zurich. ARRIVED BY TRAIN. Even if a neutral technician is blackmailed to tap the cable. Codenamed Lancer. AMAN IN TOWN. This morning.” “How did this Shean get word to you so fast?” “A regular cable. This man’s frightfully good and he’s dangerous. It’s highly possible because he’s worked primarily for the SD. LARRY “What does Aman stand for? Is that a misprint?” “A hard A-sound. shall we. Here. HEAD OFFICE SIX FOUR.” “An uncoded cable? Why?” “They’re quick and easy. The best foreign agent the Germans have. MI-6 has a man at our London cable office. Plain-language code. There are spies.“Please. I’ll explain shortly.
and gave Hollinger the data from memory. a dock worker. British mother. “That was taken here in London in 1937. Getting back to Eiser. drinks in their hands. until he came to a faded photograph of three men in suits. “Wait a sec. The secret intelligence and security service arm of the Nazi Party. Stephen Jordan to the right.” Hollinger froze. sir. Eiser was an only child. Eiser’s in the middle. Eiser and Jordan knew each other?” “Yes. eh? Did anybody in England not belong to that outfit?” “A few. then German Ambassador to Great Britain. Go on.” Hollinger flipped through the half-inch of paperwork. A one-time British citizen. But an ardent Nazi.“What’s the SD?” “The Sicherheitsdienst. Their duties cover a wide range of internal surveillance and espionage around the world.” “No kidding. Mother 130 .” “Will you keep quiet and let me finish. The father’s nationality was the dominating factor.” “Anglo-American Fellowship Association. Lampert cleared his throat.” “Sorry.” “Who’s the cat on the left?” “Joachim von Ribbentrop. “At an Anglo-German Fellowship Association black-tie affair. Born.” Pipe in mouth. run by Himmler. German father.” Lampert said. He’s of mixed decent. they did. 1906 in Liverpool and reared there.
with a certain flair for the dramatics. He had high marks. A lone wolf. Two weeks before war broke out in Poland. By then. he disappeared and wound up in Germany. Volkischer Beobachter. spying. but dropped out of university after two years. assassination. The Depression came along. he was an expert at explosives. He was a man of many talents. Eiser went to private schools. and collected lists of those sympathetic to the Nazi cause. followed by Himmler and the Gestapo and Sicherheitsdienst. He had vast contacts in Parliament and Whitehall. offering his services to the Germans through their Embassy to spy on the British. A real pro. He reportedly knew Hess and the Haushofers. For years he had made fools of the British. fine music.died when he was ten. The British knew what he was up to from a source inside the German Embassy. They let him operate to see who he was making the rounds with. Besides being illusive. schools that his father could barely afford. He made friends with British newspapermen and businessmen. Joined the British Fascist Movement and the Anglo-German Association. and a new career with Wilhelm Canaris of the German Secret Service. but never married. Always at the top five percent of his class. He had girl friends. His father never remarried. A lover of the arts – the theater. muscle. The father died in a work-related accident in 1930. Adam was a firm believer in the National Socialist Party. Helped to distribute the English-translated version of the Nazi newspaper. He drifted from job to job. 131 . He had training as a doctor.
Due to his medical training. But we’ve never been able to catch him.” “And he works for money. he knew precisely where to strike. A Nazi of independent thought. Usually paid in pounds sterling in a Swiss bank.” “A high-roller. counterespionage. “It sounds as though he enjoys his assignments.” “I hope I never meet up with him. Lots of it. He incriminates himself. then stab them in a main artery behind the ear. It’s a game he’s played with us for two years. when he got the chance at close range. “we always know where he’s been. British-made dagger. His weapon was a thin.espionage. He had worked mostly in neutral countries. I’d say.” “My sentiments too. The victims choked to death. and sabotage.” “No doubt. The worst kind. eh?” “Quite. but packs a wallop. “By using the acid and the dagger. Most ingenious. He had a distinct style of killing. almost as if he wants to leave clues. He travels rather light. his nickname of Acid-Man and codename of Lancer.” “I agree. 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. Perhaps money will be the death of him one of these times.” Lampert said. Hence.” 132 .” Hollinger flipped the file closed and slid it towards Lampert.
a colleague of his in Brazil disappeared. Shean 133 . the same week that Eiser is spotted.” “You too. No sign of Eiser. I mean?” “I don’t know. huh? Just here for the love of it. “Maybe.” “SD?” asked Hollinger.” “And what about Jordan? It seems a coincidence that we’re tailing Jordan at the same time. Lampert puffed on his pipe. MI-6 has asked Donovan and your COI for some assistance in that part of the world. “Funny. He just up and vanished. A mentor of Eiser for a time.“I’m glad I won’t have that to tempt me. watching a few faces come and go on this off-day. Still no sign. Edgar Heinemann. don’t you think?” Hollinger asked.” “Same here.” Lampert smiled slowly.” Hollinger joked. Any significance or connection? Heinemann and Eiser pulling up stakes and moving out. It’s worth looking into. Five o’clock came and went. “Not with what my government’s paying me. Thought you should know this information. codenamed Bradley.” “Thanks. lad.” **** Zurich Shean paced the entrance near the revolving door for the rest of the afternoon. “Yes. Perhaps. They’d be closing the building in another thirty minutes. But thought to be retired.
” She blew out a perfect smoke ring.wondered if Eiser. didn’t I. “How did you like the kidney pie. and puffed. Under the heading of plastic surgeons. Shean raised himself to his feet. Then something finally registered. by chance.” “I’m glad you had the decency to leave me a corner. There was only one other way Eiser could have left.” “I thought you seemed rather partial to it. “I ate it. and waited on Hollinger’s every want. and threw his newspaper in a trash can. She and Hollinger drank and seemed to loosen up quickly.” 134 . the Yorkshire pudding was delicious. Dr. there boss?” Langford asked. You ate over half the pan. She was ladylike and polite. He glanced over at the building’s long directory in block letters on the wall board for the umpteenth time. Out the back. Langford was the perfect hostess. He smirked. Shean’s footsteps echoed on the marble floor as he strode to the balcony above the entrance. She lit a Player’s. Anyway. he found two names. One was German. Seissburg. **** London At the flat. “I couldn’t stop. knew he was being followed. But the evening wasn’t going well until she brought out the brandy and poured it into two crystal glasses.
“Anyone ever tell you that you have nice legs?” Hollinger asked. You changed your perfume. He liked the way she appeared. “Is this relevant?” “Depends. You’ve told me. But who’s counting?” “You are one rather tactless man. “Fancy that.” She sighed. silk blouse and stylish blue skirt that showed off her slim waist and shapely figure. All right. She was wearing a white. which was ideal for Langford. Her hair was up in the front. Thought I’d try a new French brand that someone gave me.” They retired to a long brocaded sofa in the small living room.” 135 .” “Yes. Hollinger watched as Langford kicked off her shoes and crossed her legs. “Well. Flats were safe again with the Blitz over. Yes.” “Yes. I am.” “On what? Don’t answer that. one-bedroom flat was on the first floor in an unbombed area of London within walking distance of MI-6 Headquarters.He shrugged. He was not surprised to see that she had on a pair of the American-bought nylons. Three times. The comfortably-furnished. taking their brandy with them. I think. They looked good on her. 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. down on the sides and back. I had to. You being the hostess and all.
including the inside of the Oval Office. “I’m told the colonel says our prisoner is cooperating. Then he got to the martinis. in your case.” “Schubert? Yeah. Eleven o’clock. There’s something I can tell my grandchildren. he noticed Langford’s eyelids drooping and her forehead starting to crease.” “Maybe you will someday.He grinned. and he knows it. hobnobbing with Churchill and with Roosevelt. . And he has the full lowdown on the peace papers. You really are precious. “You had martinis with the President . yet. making her grin. If he goes too far in aiding Britain. Will the German plans for domination make you Americans fight for us?” “Not that by itself.” 136 . without the people’s support. About the impostor. I haven’t even met Churchill.” “Splendid. Then again. in the morning?” “Yep. is he?” “Oh. yes. As the American talked. We’re part-way there already.” “You have to get married first. . “The President is in-the-know now.” Hollinger went on to describe in detail the rest of the meeting and what he remembered of the White House. he could be impeached for breaking the neutrality laws.” “Why do you say that?” “Because you’ve been to 10 Downing Street and the White House. Roosevelt’s in a jam. after a little threat.” Hollinger answered. probably not.
. thank you very much.” “I know I shan’t.” He scratched his chin.” “He is. Why little old me?” He shrugged. Maybe I’ll relax and read a new book I bought.” She massaged her temple and grimaced. let me know..” “Protect my virtue.” “He’s a nice man. .” “Pregnant? Certainly not!” Her hand went to her hip. “Look. I know the evening’s still young and all that. I’ll run along. It might happen. headache coming on. “Are you seeing anyone?” “Maybe.” “Good grief! You were assuming. but you don’t look that well.” “You’re not . something like that.” Which means he’s boring as hell. . “I dunno. . Hollinger wanted to say. “More brandy?” “No thanks.” 137 .” Hollinger pictured them kissing in the parking lot. “I hope he’s treating you well. will you?” “Yeah. If he gives you any trouble.. “That’s nice. The office is talking about it. I’ll try and get you in. “Just asking. you know.“I doubt it. “I’m feeling a .” Her eyes burnt into his. Must you know so much about me?” “What about that beanpole of a flyboy?” “Then you do know?” She paused.” She attempted a smile.” She gave him a slight smile. “Everybody does. “He’s a perfect gentleman.
really. Of course. I hope so too.” As she began to close the door on him. Was he too abrupt with her? Nah. I am. she said through the crack.” he told her. Hollinger didn’t move for several moments. “Thank you. It was a deep mystery to him why he couldn’t get to first base with her. one-bedroom on the fourth floor with connecting living room and kitchen. “I’ll see you at the office.“Which one?” “Mein Kampf.” “Oh. Ta. She liked to pretend she didn’t like it. “Hitler’s Mein Kampf!” “No Churchill’s. “I want to see for myself what he says in it. Hollinger fumbled with his hat.” In the hall. Mein Kampf?” “Yes. Although only 138 . Hitler’s. What the hell was it then? His flat was a roomy. followed by Langford.” “Yes.” “It’s been lovely.” “You’re joking. Hitler’s book of bent ideology.” Hollinger stood.” “Adios. she thrived on that. “Till tomorrow. It’s what kept her charged in a man’s world. They looked into each other’s eyes. you’re just saying that. I hope you feel better soon.” “Why on earth would you want to read that?” She felt her forehead. He stared at the chipped door.” “I’m sorry if I upset you.” She walked him to the door. boss. ta.” “Ah.
Strange. So outgoing. What a woman. So intelligent. it was in a better end of town and offered a brilliant view of the city on two sides. Hollinger did exactly what he told Langford he’d do. She was really quite a knockout. she probably could be. Pretty. Inside. like Roberta. If any woman could be an iron ass. And not one to mince words. She was no pushover. He thought back to the blonde counter woman in Montreal who sold him the book. opened the book to the first page. A brain. 139 . He first put on a pot of strong American coffee. Then he met Roberta.two miles from Langford’s place. and began to read. And so doggone stubborn. that he didn’t like redheads before he came to England. Like a mule. then curled into his chair with Mein Kampf. Hollinger shook his head.
misty morning at 0900 hours aboard the pitching deck of the American battleship cruiser USS Augusta. He relished the sea aroma this dull. He drained his hot mug of coffee. damp air. Newfoundland – August 9 The President inhaled the brackish. with a brown hat. beneath a set of long. cloudy. In the First World War. The President arranged himself in his wheelchair.CHAPTER TEN Argentia Bay. the waves lapping against the hull. gray guns pointed across the Bay to the green hills beyond. The ship beneath him had been cleaned to perfection. he watched with the others as one to the east in anticipation of Churchill’s ship. and asked his son for a fill-up. set to arrive in minutes. the President wore his leg braces over a brown suit. After taking the oath in the midst of the Great Depres140 . Ready to receive the British Prime Minister. he was the Assistant Secretary of the Navy. Roosevelt’s love for the open water continued unabated as the current reigning Commander-in-Chief. Gathered in a group of military brass and civilians. Roosevelt had been in office eight turbulent years.
At last. For the first six years of his administration. Trouble was. He spent billions on relief and public works programs. 141 . Conservative-minded people said he had gone too far. one of every four workers was jobless. He placed federal controls on business. labeled by their three-lettered initials – CCC. the President had been concentrating his efforts on the war. Farmers and city workers couldn’t pay their mortgages. Five thousand banking institutions collapsed the day before Roosevelt’s inauguration on March 4. TVA. he was an outsider looking in. Roosevelt made bold strides in legislation to combat the bad times.” At the time. NRA. 1933. Thousands of banks were closing their doors. that he had made government too powerful. Thousands were standing in bread lines. an officer spotted two ships steaming towards them. CWA. Government agencies shot up overnight. Since 1939. and Hitler’s attack on Poland. He quickly became the President who people either loved to love or loved to hate.sion. And he became FDR. he had informed his nation. But the common man adored him. 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. WPA. FDR’s goal was to prop America back on its feet again. He hoped that Churchill would understand that. “The only thing to fear is fear itself.
dad. Someone pushed the wheelchair off to the side. and stood. split through the three and chugged alongside the Augusta. Roosevelt saw Churchill right off – short. The President had made up his mind that he would not greet his long-distance ally sitting down. squatty.” the President said. Her band aboard quickly struck up The Star-Spangled Banner. A host of men stood on the deck. Just that May. They were destroyers. HMS Prince of Wales. with gray camouflage that blended into the sea. Then a fourth ship. Churchill’s fleet had been dodging German wolfpacks at sea for five days.” Elliott Roosevelt said. supported by his son. far bigger than the others. 142 . causing the American cruiser to rock gently. “I wonder what Churchill’s like? Some say he’s a bully. after two years of correspondence. dressed in Navy blue. Roosevelt set his coffee down. Roosevelt and Churchill would finally meet for the first time. opposite Newfoundland’s shores. his eyes moving up to his son.” “Now where have I heard that before. The Augusta replied in earnest with God Save the King. Three ships burst through the surface mist. They both had to set up sophisticated screens to confer here. the hum of their engines drawing closer by the second. They laughed. holding to the rail with both hands.“Looks like the British delegation now. the war-weary Prince of Wales had blasted the Bismarck to the bottom of the sea. cigar in mouth. The ship’s paint was peeling and parts of her showed rust.
Mother Churchill’s home country. It was more than plain to everyone concerned that Churchill had come not only as a leader.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. Lord of the British Empire. Winston Spencer Churchill. Flashbulbs popped. with his entourage. U-boat sinkings.” Both ships anchored. The two leaders shook hands for the photographers. At eleven hundred hours. Commander in Chief of the United States of America. As far as the American public was concerned. Churchill stepped onto the Augusta. seated around a table. Now it was time to be direct. The British boatswain on the Prince of Wales cried out. IN THE PRESIDENT’S SUITE THAT EVENING. with a mutual friend – a bottle of vintage French wine. A meeting of the political giants that cemented a kinship on the spot. the President was taking a well-deserved rest – a little R-and-R – near Cape Cod. the two giants were finally alone. Franklin Delano Roosevelt. 143 . Roosevelt towered above the Prime Minister. A pleader in desperate need of munitions help. This was history. they discussed the plight of the Soviet Union. for the sake of the military advisers and civilian staffs. landing craft – for the far-off day when Britain would invade the European continent – and current British-American relations. Earlier that day. “Fall in for entering harbor. but a pleader. Lend-Lease.
We’re finding out new things about him all the time. The two were able to make the same speech on the same day in different cities. He said Hess was seeking asylum. “I’m sure it would have its advantages. “Could be. that boy. Thanks to Hollinger.” “Or just lucky. besides his name? What is it?” “Felix Schubert.” “More men like him would make Donovan’s job easier.” Churchill laughed.” “How do you know?” 144 .” “We will. A truck driver sent by Himmler. wine glass in hand. .” “What an idea! We should try something like that. what do you know about him. He’s a washed-out Luftwaffe pilot. Hess used him as his double in the elections during the Nazi’s rise to power. Hollinger. of use to both of us at the present time. we realized we had a Hess double.” the President said. He has a wife.” “The man you have locked up.” Churchill rolled the cigar in his palm. cigar in mouth. “Quite so. Winston. Good man.” Churchill said. “He’s .“I’m impressed by your man. . Two married daughters. “Looking for future executive material?” “Maybe.” “Give him lots to do. Donovan and I want to see what he’s made of. that right?” The President puffed on his cigarette.
they do exist. They’re called Commandoes.“Schubert himself. “I don’t know what disturbs me the most.” “A hundred years!” “That’s the deal I made with those scoundrels who tried to deal with Hitler. except for some as cheap labor. For the longest time.” “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. They mass murder Russians by the thousand. I promised to protect their good names and all that rot.” “How long are you going to keep this Hess thing under wraps?” “A hundred years secrets stamp should do it. “It’s horrible just thinking about it. swallowing a mouthful of wine. Run by the Gestapo.. he didn’t admit he was an impostor. They have no tolerance for prisoners.” Churchill nodded..” Roosevelt looked grim. “Yes.” “His papers are.” 145 .” The President’s voice trailed off. So we’ve been drugging him with truth serum. The race is on.” “Both frightening. What about these liquidation squads in Russia? Are the facts right?” “Yes. Private German firms are bidding for the contracts to build the sites. The atomic formulas or the death camps.” “Hollinger said the data was confirmed on the camps.
your government would be welcomed in exile. Including the Royal Family. Pressurized cabins.” 146 . The other is those atomic secrets. “In private. “Boeing is working on such a project. If we enter the war due to your collapse or for another reason.” “Or die trying. A prototype will be ready in a year.” “With what? No bomber has that range. When are you going to get into this ruddy war?” “We just can’t go and declare war on Germany without provocation.“The Nazis are mad.000 pounds of explosives over 3.” “Indeed.” Churchill said. Capable of carrying 10. First of all.” Roosevelt smiled. We need help. To work together on splitting the atom.000 miles at 30. The biggest bomber ever. there’ll be more death camps around the world. The world’s first global bomber. I want to know one thing. our air force would be forced to bomb Europe from bases in Iceland and Newfoundland.000 feet. I’ll have to hide our costs somehow. I’ve said it all along.” “I know. Winston. 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. “I’ll answer your question in two parts. Congress would crucify me. Stalin could do us a favor. But that’s only one of our huge expenditures. If England should fall – God forbid – then what?” Roosevelt regarded that.” “If the Germans beat us to the atom. Let’s hope and pray the Russians can put a stop to Hitler for us.
“Viva la France. But they make damn good wine. “A false rumor.” The two greats were silent for a few moments.” The suddenness of the loaded question caught Churchill completely unprepared.” Roosevelt nodded. “Winston.“Either way. 147 . “There are no such concessions. The President poured more wine for them.” “They can’t fight. spread by the Germans. our Embassy in Switzerland sent me a report last month.” “Scout’s honor?” Churchill raised his right hand.” Roosevelt wished he could believe his friend. it’s a favor. “Scout’s honor. He stared at the American and said coolly.” “Is that so?” Churchill’s eyes bore into the President. something else on his mind. A sudden twinkle appeared in his eye. Tell me about Hitler’s concessions.
and selected a table opposite the cafeteria entrance. Hollinger. “What’s the problem? I do them here or in the office. “When do you find the time?” Langford asked. What’s another word for arrogant or overbearing?” “How many letters?” “Nine. and jam. “I need a wake-up. toast.” he said. It begins with an i. margarine.” “Very funny. Ends with o-u-s. I take it?” “Listen. Another hot day in London. He pulled out the day’s London Times crossword – half filled in. 148 . Only a few scattered chairs were occupied by the in-house male and female staff this Friday.” He rubbed his bloodshot eyes. “I got it.” “When you’re not napping. The windows were open.” She tapped her fingers to her lips. Hollinger had ordered his coffee black.” “Let me think about it.CHAPTER ELEVEN London – August 16 They asked for coffee.
“Must you be so noisy?” “Sorry. munched. the things that he had said he would carry out if he became Chancellor. he has a pretty high opinion of himself. But I got through it. “Sounds like someone I know. that’s for damn sure. let’s not start anything. “I stayed up reading the rest of Hitler’s book.” “Anybody could have told you all that rot. OK. It took over a week.” “What do you think of him now?” “For one thing. Fascinating stuff. and wiped her mouth with a napkin.“What’s with you? Couldn’t sleep last night?” she asked.” “For instance?” She bit into her toast.” “But some of the other things I found distressing.” He folded the crossword up and put it away.” “In particular?” 149 .” “Once you sort through a lot of the political clap-trap. The International Jewish world of finance. he believes he is the one true German leader and his National Socialist Party is the one true party. he’s schizophrenic.” “Speak for yourself.. But nearly everything he stated in the book has come to pass.” He slurped his coffee. He calls them the Jewish state.” “How nice.. What did he say?” “Well. He hates Jews. You didn’t have to waste your time reading his book. “All right. granted he wrote the book many years before he came to power.” She laughed. “OK.
” “True. this year. it might have turned out differently. Two tables down. Besides. Too feminine. Once in office. Peace-in-OurTime Neville Chamberlain.” He looked to the side. Hollinger hated it when a man crossed his legs. yes.” “Next. dearie. He crossed his legs. I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt. “I need hardly point out that we had a different prime minister then.“The Austrian-German Alliance.” “You really got caught up in it. looking straight ahead. it could be obtained at the expense of Russia. huh? And I think I only scratched the surface.” “I did. and neither England nor France did a thing to stop him.” “How. On June 22. I take it.” Langford stared at him. Amazing. annexed it for the German Reich. Otherwise. how could a man physically do it? “Well?” “It’s gets more juicy. that also came true.” “So right. Hitler started making speeches about how oppressed the Germans who were living in Austria were and that Austria should return to the Fatherland. He said he would eat the bread of the Eastern hordes. The Big Guy wasn’t holding the reins. Then his army walked into Austria. Hitler said that if Germany required land. may I ask?” 150 . a man about thirty sipped his coffee. I learned a lot more than you think.
Denmark.” “If you wish.” She leaned to one side. Belgium. I didn’t have to. I did my homework. good grief!” “Listen. Hitler is not planning to Germanize the world and take it over. Promise you’ll keep this to yourself.” “Promise?” “I promise. Contrary to what many believe.” “You went deep into Hitler’s mind did you.” “Oh.” he mused. let’s keep our voices low.” He took a deep breath. “Yesterday? What are you talking about?” “You won’t like it.” Langford put her cup down. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you. to dig that out?” “No. From this point on. Her face was a mask. and Holland – for a written promise 151 . He had heard that Hitler was willing to hand over five occupied European countries – France. 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. “Really.“I never should have read it. Norway. Try me?” Hollinger downed a mouthful of coffee. Should I want to tell anybody?” “Yesterday. I read it in his book. “I’m all ears. heaving for a breath. Especially after yesterday. “Now get this.
his one ally in Europe – England. then.” “So.” “Anyway. He’s using them as leverage to get what he’s really wanted all along. Think about it.of a truce with Britain and the promise of a free hand in Russia. my lady.” “He’s kept his word. He never wanted the other countries. You’ve heard of him?” “Yes. what did you tell Donovan?” Hollinger dwelled on what was sticking in his craw – Roosevelt’s words. getting back to Hitler.” “To conduct such an undertaking against Russia. I wouldn’t believe a word of it.” “Professor Haushofer’s teachings?” “That’s the fellah. Hitler’s always wanted to expand east. Your precious England. So.” “Not necessarily. what he’s always said in Mein Kampf. you know what else he said in his book?” “I’m waiting. It’s all part of the Geopolitic vision for Europe. It’s just a rumor. He was Hess’s Munich University teacher in the days after the First War.” 152 . “I wish I could.” He grinned wolfishly. his eyebrows bouncing. How do we know the British aren’t holding anything back? “What could I tell him? I never heard of any peace offer. he would need an ally.” “Don’t get cute.” “Rubbish. Russia!” “The book again. breathlessly. You’re pulling my leg.
It’s right there in black and white. as you might recall. Or something along those lines. With his western flank protected he could then move east on a great Germanic march. “There would be no sacrifice too great in winning England’s willingness. For a smart person. For the most part.” “How well I remember.” “Something like that. Hitler’s too tied up with Russia.” “Shit. He’s bluffing. huh? I doubt it.” Hollinger leaned forward. A peaceful coexistence.” “I beg your pardon?” “You’re believing your own propaganda. “Yeah. Hollinger added. he’s always craved an understanding with the British. He signed a non-aggression pact with Stalin in 1939. I do. sure.” “Yes. in the first person. “It could still happen. Hitler invading England across the Channel. The Blitz stopped the night Hess landed in Scotland to talk peace.” “You seem to suddenly fancy yourself as an expert on Hitler’s motives.” 153 .” “Balderdash. then attacked him two years later.” Waving his hand. you don’t know a snitch. There was a great and mighty future in an alliance with Britain. “Hitler’s word isn’t worth you-know-what.” “Take this into consideration. He’ll do it to us too.” Langford said.“What the devil!” “He said it. He doesn’t have the guts!” She wiped her mouth.
“You might say that. A damn stool pigeon for His Honor and the Big Guy. “Sorry. “Listen. I . to Donovan. when she had been trampled on and had miscarried. And to Stalin. And I fell for it. I bet you two bucks to ten that the Big Guy never told the Russians about Operation Barbarossa. didn’t .”‘ “What are you saying?” Hollinger hesitated. taking some time to get in gear again. May 10th was the night she had been caught in the Luftwaffe raid on London. How do we 154 . To me. let’s say.” He shook his head.” Hollinger heard again his President’s voice. . of course. Robbie. you know. . They sent me to the White House to soften up my own President. What are you trying to say?” “Churchill let Barbarossa happen to keep the Germans busy in the east. 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. . Hypothetically. you found out that a so-called ally – no. He’s lied. He’s lied to Roosevelt this week at the Atlantic conference aboard some rusty old ship.” “He’s lied to us. “Forget it. . They set me up. What if. “My eyes are open. You know. And now he’s deliberately drawing my country in this war.” “Mere conjecture.” “Go on.” he retreated. to Roosevelt. come to think of it. suspiciously.Hollinger fell silent for a moment.
I haven’t been doing much of that of late.” “Hah! Some analyst. “It’s not only the book. And another thing. But let me remind you we are still hypothetically neutral in this war. And there’s no sign of any German invasion fleet.” She backed off a touch. “One week of reading. however.” Hollinger grunted. But he didn’t. Hollinger. On loan. We’re both sworn to the Official Secrets Act. I do appreciate the British hospitality. Washington. and you came up with this. As a cipher analyst. my dear. “So? Everything you’ve said is circumstantial evidence and is dangerous talk around here. You have no proof of anything. “The only way to fight Hitler is with another Hitler.” “I bet you do. until her eyes narrowed at him. Bordering on treason. I’m still an American first. And I march to the tune of different drummers.” “I know this isn’t the best thing for British-American relations.” Langford was livid. “Let me remind you that you are working with and for us. Mr. Donovan.know the British aren’t holding anything back? “You know what people are saying about Churchill?” “What is that?” Langford wanted to know. feel that way. He wanted to sign a peace pact with you. the COI. That’s 155 . Roosevelt. Don’t forget the peace rumor out of Switzerland. Your own countrymen. At any rate.” She looked around at the few faces in the room. I heard that Hitler had every chance to annihilate your forces at the Dunkirk beaches last year.
and the jet aircraft. “Trust me on this.why. Well. “If they’re on the level. don’t I? What about you?” “You’re forgetting the broken Munich agreement. And England’s part of it. How did you know about the jets and camps?” “Lampert briefed me on the full details of Hess’s papers. That’s only what we’re told. With Hitler’s peace. what about them?” Hollinger hesitated.” “He did?” “Yes.” “What are you saying? Hitler’s not a threat?” “In a way.” “Oh.” “Wise up.” His hand moved towards her hand. This is Europe’s problem to sort. How do we know the papers are legit?” “You’re incorrigible. ‘thou protests too much.’ ” “Meaning?” Hollinger asked. methinks. “Your opinion is so strong that you don’t necessarily believe it. they are.” Langford went on. He let you get away to think about it. “How can you trust Hitler’s word? What about the extermination camps. . and the Master Race genetic testing. and.” 156 .” “Listen to me.” “According to our foreign agents...” “Wait a sec. touching it. . Then Hess came. Robbie. and .” “To paraphrase own dear William Shakespeare. He’s certainly not a threat to us in America.
.“Based on what? Nothing I’ve heard from you in the last few minutes.” “This is no way to make friends and influence people.” “I don’t. “Give me some time on this. She fixed him an unconvinced cold stare. .” “What?” 157 . . You’re a levelheaded woman. I.. the other hand on her hip.” “I don’t suppose there’s the slightest possibility in your mind that you’re wrong?” Hollinger stood his ground. I have an opinion.” Hollinger chuckled. and pulled her hand away.” “Promise me. After that .” She frowned. “We’ll see who’s right.” Her face turned a deep red. “End of the year.” Hollinger grunted.” “That’s your prerogative. well . I beg you.” “How much time?” Hollinger shrugged. “Leave me alone!” “You take offense at my opinions?” “Oh. to show that I’m right. ..” “Robbie. good guess!” “Don’t foam at the mouth or anything. “Oh! Sometimes I could just—!” “I’m not a traitor. and . I need time. .” “Them is the breaks.” She wasn’t in the mood.” “Bugger you! Why not ask for the end of the century. “None whatsoever. “End of the year. . I thought you’d be one person who would understand. fair. please.
tapping a pen on his desk blotter. head high. We fear he went to Switzerland for plastic surgery to do a job right under our noses. We still cannot locate Eiser. Hypothetically.“I don’t know yet.” she snapped. She was not Robbie the sweetie now. “I thought you called me incorrigible.” “Oh. I suppose. It fits. you’re right. Hollinger chuckled. too cross with him to speak. chin out.” Then she turned to leave for the second time. Sit down.” The American found a chair. “Close the door. She stalked off in a huff and a flash of skirt. “What was that?” “Nothing!” **** Hollinger spit out his gum and headed to Lampert’s office. “I believe the word is imperious.” “You’re welcome.” she snapped. “Perhaps.” “I’m referring to the puzzle. I shall take my leave of you. Thanks. Then she returned half a minute later. “Meantime. It seemed her foot had fallen asleep. “Not now.” She made an attempt to walk away.” Hollinger pulled the crossword sheet from his breast pocket. annoyed with herself. “Bad news?” Lampert was in his shirt sleeves. Every MI-5 agent here in England and MI-6 agent in Europe and 158 . you buffoon. murmuring something indistinguishable.” She whirled in her seat and bolted to her feet. but stumbled. “Yeah. No pun intended. Wesley.
Incidentally. Wesley. when’s the Prime Minister due back in town. he did.” “Sunday. Then. How long does it take a patient to heal completely?” “Funny you should mention that.” “I hope his trip was worthwhile. “Yes. I called a specialist this morning.Africa knows his face. possibly three months. He closed a file and lifted the receiver of the C-phone. in the afternoon. It takes two. His first order of business was a morning report to the House of Commons. he found his way to the underground War Room. Bought a boat ticket for Honolulu. the COI located Edgar Heinemann – Eiser’s tutor – for us.” “Geez. just before you came in the door.” “So does he.” “Where?” “San Francisco. By the way. eh? Lucky bum. He has to change it if he ever wants to come to this end of the world and we think he will. given a doctor of caliber. His phone rang.” “Hawaii. I wonder what Eiser’s up to?” “Yeah. Wesley. Hawaii.” **** 10 Downing Street – August 18 Churchill had returned to London that morning from his Argentia Bay conference with Roosevelt.” 159 .
I trust?” “Yes and no. He knows why he went to Washington. Welcome back. What’s new with you?” “He knows. At least he has an inkling. sir. Whether we told Stalin—” Churchill swore over the line.” Churchill pressed the proper button. If we send him home.” “Thank you. Prime Minister. “We can’t panic. Colonel Lampert.” “Seems so. I can keep him busy with projects. Now what do we do?” Churchill asked. “What about the May 9th Falcon File transmission?” “Not that I know of.“We best go on scramble.” “Who told him?” “He figured it all out on his own. I don’t know how he does it. Mr. I’m afraid.” “Successful. Donovan will ask questions. Neither he nor Langford know.” “You hope. He was overheard in the cafeteria. We’ll make out as if we don’t know. We’re stuck with the clod. “Do you hear me?” “Yes.” “Who?” “Hollinger. Then Roosevelt will ask Donovan questions. I think. The President agreed only to enter the war should Japan attack the Dutch or our own possessions in the East Indies or Malaya. sir. sir.” 160 . He has us over a barrel.
” “I’m afraid the President does already.“One other thing. colonel.” Churchill admitted for the first time to Lampert.” 161 . Five countries.” “I can see what this means.” “Oh. blasted. If Donovan knows the score. Hitler’s concessions got back to Washington somehow. sir. sir! Hitler’s willing to give up five countries!” “Yes. The Kid said he hadn’t heard anything. then so does Roosevelt. “If we can take him at his word. Donovan asked Hollinger for verification.
and the Lexington. That would make five flattops. and eventually to the second tray of water. an excellent angle of the Harbor entrance. the black-and-white images appeared like magic on the last of the eight-by-ten-inch photo papers. were especially distinguishable. Hickam Airfield and Ford Island that day. then the fixer. Sunday. now stateside in California. Under the orange light. He was a perfectionist. when most of the ships were either at anchor or in dock. Rumors spoke that the carrier Saratoga. the Hornet. Shots of the four carriers. Perfect negatives made perfect prints. 162 . He hovered over the final picture. From there. Five prints altogether displayed a low-level panoramic view of Pearl Harbor. and studied it carefully through the small magnifying eyepiece.CHAPTER TWELVE Honolulu – November 23 He stirred the darkroom tray in his apartment closet. the Yorktown. the Enterprise. he hung it up with clothes pegs on the line with the other photos to dry. would soon join the Hawaiian fleet. He slipped the sheet into the water tray.
One of the simplest things was to observe the Pearl Harbor activity from an exceptional vantage point – near Spring Tide Restaurant on Aiea Heights. Bad women. Poor Heinemann had run himself broke in South America. at first casually absorbing all he could of the island of Oahu. Arriving in Hawaii in August. One such report was invaluable to the Japanese. radio broadcasts. happened to be a member of the Japanese Third Bureau Section 5. The data was then radioed in code to Tokyo. overlooking the waters. though. Tips weren’t bad. codenamed Bradley.It was an awful comedown for the widowed. 163 . 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. and one too many slow horses. photography. and siphoning bits and pieces from the sailors he picked up nearly every day at the Navy Yard front gate. Heinemann. Then he set out to ferret more detailed information. But the other money was coming in once more. thanks to a German friend who entrusted him to a Japanese diplomat in Rio de Janeiro. He was utilizing several methods to obtain his information – newspapers. took his job seriously. in turn. Quite handsomely. The paychecks were meager. crooked card games. living the socialite life of a rich retiree. the Japanese Naval Intelligence specializing in espionage in America. It was the least favorite cover he ever had to use. by conducting his own surveillance of Pearl Harbor and the surrounding area. 52-yearold Edgar Heinemann to drive a cab six days a week. and who.
It was easy being a spy on Oahu.” “Who?” “Silsoner. he had purchased a set of photos showing an aerial panoramic view of Pearl Harbor and had passed them along to the ConsulGeneral. D.” “Keep in touch. They used three aircraft per patrol. But I overheard one name. sir. there’s an important meeting underway here. “Yes.” “Really?” “Yes. Aris?” “Sir.” **** Vichy France – November 24 Inside the compartment. Donovan lifted the receiver of his office phone. Bill. Lydia Harris craned her neck to see the French policeman accompanied by a man in 164 .C.Heinemann had discovered that the American air patrol searches behaved in a predictable pattern. A half-dozen faces I couldn’t recognize. Mr.” “Yes. There. **** Washington. sir. A local gift shop was Heinemann’s best find. and guarded only the north and south approaches to Oahu.
then turned to the older woman. The wind seemed to leave her. German. He asked the three of them questions in perfect French. the way they had done when they overwhelmed Northern France in 1940. Yellow hair. They wouldn’t dare frisk her there. Harris knew enough French to 165 .plain clothes board the train at the Marseille stopover. The French mother and her teenage daughter across from Harris stared ahead. Her nerves tightened. pretending to read a political column in The New York Times. Or would they? What about a strip search? She tried not to think about it.” Mother and daughter showed their ID and documents first. she knew Nazi Germany ran the show. Harris smiled back.” the policeman snapped in French. The elderly French woman beside her smiled. Beige trenchcoat. Tall. Stiff. All she had to do was stay calm. They answered promptly. Although this was the unoccupied neutral section of France. He was her age. Harris dragged on a cigarette. She had nothing to worry about. She wished she could appear as unruffled as they were. She was above suspicion. He had to be Gestapo. She could feel the small manila envelope pressing against her spine under her bra strap. in tones anxious to please. “Passports and traveling documents. Harris watched as Yellow Hair checked them. “S’il vous plait. Twenty minutes later the door banged open. and could officially move in and takeover any time they damn well pleased. Bolt upright. lost in their thoughts. Assuming it would take the latest boarders some time to arrive at her compartment.
right through her face and eyes.” She smiled with even. his smile a patronizing put-on. Are you married?” “No. She gave him the passport and some documentation that he had to fold out. white teeth. Harris’s hair was tied back in a bun.” “Yes. sir.catch the gist of the conversations.” He looked at the occupation on the passport. a grin on his lips.” she answered. her English friend had warned her – too pretty. “Although I don’t like to advertise my age. “Born 1911. I go by my maiden name. “Lydia Harris. Her blouse buttons were done up to her neck. A whole lot of skill and some lady luck would have to get her through. She had refrained from using her red lipstick and makeup. Any other time she would have been dressed to the nines. A writer. too noticed. “A correspondent for The New York Times. Divorced. Her gray skirt fell a modest few inches below the knee. Thirty years old?” “That’s right. and left a button or two loose at the top. All three were on working visas in Vichy.” The woman’s face on the passport – small black and white picture that it was – revealed a very beautiful. Then he held his hand out to her. “Yes. He was staring hard. Says here you’re American?” The German switched to faultless English. And you’re very German. I am. For this trip.” “You Americans are so vain. Thirty is not very old. and she wore her reading glasses. 166 .
She had worked so hard to succeed that it had destroyed her marriage. she wanted to have the courage to say.” She said nothing. shall we say . “Where do you reside. She had taken an extreme amount of heat from her peers to get where she was. She forced herself to be polite. The envelope felt clammy against her skin. . She wasn’t just some dumb blonde. “What’s the nature of your business in Vichy?” “I’m traveling to Lisbon. different. she was told. “Zurich. it is.almost perfect face. Have a good trip. a slight curl to his grin.” The French policeman left the compartment first. . The put-on smile vanished.” she replied. 167 . Miss Harris. He stared at the ID.” “It’s rare to see a woman overseas correspondent. She took the pressure and the bed offers. The Gestapo agent followed. You’re not kidding buster. closed the door slowly.” He neatly folded the paper and gave it to her. Yes?” “Yes. . and shook off both. “Thank you. instead.” The Gestapo man read the paper issued by the American Embassy in Switzerland. “It seems to be in order. Miss Harris?” Stick to the truth. . I haven’t been home in over a year. “Your photo is . My Embassy in Switzerland reserved a flight on a Pan-American Clipper to New York.” “And why are you flying to New York?” “A vacation. and turned his back to the passengers to make a note on his pocket-size writing pad.
scrutinizing him. his eyes glistening. Now to the work. Eiser tapped the hat in his hands.**** Gestapo Headquarters Himmler was astonished. “Excellent. “Waiting the extra month was worth it. No surgery marks. Eiser’s new face was nothing short of miraculous.” “Why. touched up with a little white dye around the temples. and filled in flesh below his high cheek bones.” Himmler said.” Himmler swiped a small piece of paper off his desk and 168 . delighted. your lady companion. looking closely at Eiser.” “Play time is over. She kept me warm at night. Freda was a good teacher.” “You learned to ski. Herr Reichsfuehrer. The only thing the same were the fierce eyes and the bass voice. bending down. hands on hips. The good doctor had thinned out his Roman nose. did you?” “Yes. He smiled roughly. I do hope you enjoyed convalescing and biding your time in the Swiss Alps with Freda. not two feet away.” Himmler’s smile faded. “They will never recognize you in England. cut back on his prominent jaw. Herr Reichsfuehrer?” Himmler nodded. Doctor Alfred Seissburg – the hawk-nosed buzzard – had outdone himself. His hair was cut short.” “And you found time for a good tan?” “The sun is rather bright on the slopes. “Does it meet with your satisfaction. of course. He had grown a moustache. almost to a brush cut.
Ten minutes to go until Denise reported in. down the aisle.handed it to Eiser. He had befriended her. “Walter Buhle. Why not? He had trained her. “I want you to see that person at once. in the red light district of Berlin.” **** Hamburg Radio operator Gunther Gruhn enjoyed a cigarette while leaning on the desk top in his soundproof booth. He frequents an establishment called The Pyramid. Not much in the way of data from 169 . Tonight the airwaves were average to steady at the receiving station. Gruhn knew everything about the agent Denise. all sets tuned west to England.” Eiser’s eyes fell on the name and address on the slip. I understand. He knew exactly how she tapped her key. And he had also slept with her that last night in Hamburg. Dismiss. Outside his booth. before they had sent her to enemy territory. Need I say more? That is all. Who is he?” “He knows Hess from his Munich days. They were very close. sat nineteen other operators each with his or her own frequency range to scan. 1940.” “Just how close?” “They were in one of these all-male organizations a few years ago. his transmitter deathly silent. before our Party came to power.
mechanical by now. and paper pad. curly hair arrived at the deserted two-story house at the water’s edge as she had done routinely once a week for the last several months. She took the same creaky stairs to the top floor and loosened the same planks in the corner of the same old master bedroom. She lined the frequency crystals to one side. She removed her gloves and played with the dial. She heard her call sign. She reached in for her British-made Mark II Suitcase Transceiver. Her finger on the key. The set hummed softly as it warmed up. In seconds. She slid the radio onto the dusty work table by the wobbly chair. She checked the position of the aerial – in place against the wooden window sill. The slim woman with the dark. code book. She waited almost five minutes.German agents across the North Sea in England. the Morse echoes came. then placed the earphones on her head. Denise’s movements were precise. She wished she could warm up with it. Hamburg was clear tonight at the usual 7587 kilocycles. to the top of the hour. she 170 . Met reports predicted clear skies through the night. The dampness was a killer. It was coming in perfect. The signal should be sharp. **** Firth of Forth It was a bitterly cold evening. and switched the power on. She waited. So far.
She sat. and proceeded down the corridor... He stopped at the inter-office pigeon-holes. Nothing for him. if such a term meant anything in this business. He laughed to himself.DLM.began to transmit her three-letter call sign six times with a consistent tap. She tapped out her call sign. the shadow probably knew about the call and held back. He lost his shadow in the downpour.. listening for the reply.. and WE READ YOU LOUD AND CLEAR in code. Hamburg gave their call sign..DLM.. got out and trotted along the sandbagged front of the building. soggy Sunday evening at dusk and drove his MG pell-mell to the office.. He whipped out his MI-6 identification at the door. Hollinger didn’t know and he didn’t care.DLM.... DLM. Wesley Hollinger took the priority call from His Honor at his apartment this cool.. How ironic it was to him. She jotted down the dots and dashes crackling over her phones. It ended with Hamburg’s call sign. Since his cafeteria conversation with Langford in August. Too quick for him.. Hollinger discovered he was being tailed by the same Secret Service he was 171 . The line went dead.DLM. Then again. **** MI-6 Headquarters It was normally called after-hours.DLM. taking long strides. The message was a short one. He slammed on his brakes in the car park.
was hardly speaking to him at all anymore. As far as he knew. She had put up the proverbial wall between them away from the office. At this hour it was free of secretaries.” Lampert said. “And in this rain and blackout. outside of MI-6 work. Funny thing.” “What’s up?” “Forget Jordan for the time being. Langford. and unbuttoned his suit jacket.employed by. He turned into Colonel Lampert’s office.” 172 . He hoped. “Our sources picked up a message from Hamburg to Denise. to the executive section. in fact. There’s a development in this other case. He had tried to clear her from his mind by dating other English women. Hollinger hadn’t spoken to a soul about Mein Kampf or to anybody about his Churchill accusations since. “That was fast. Maybe he could forget tattooed Annie Fannie. But that was difficult. It was like a game of Cops-and-Robbers. pipe puffing in his mouth. But he didn’t mind.” “Why? What gives?” Hollinger removed his fedora. He knocked at the open door and entered. using the handrail as support. Hollinger bounded up the stairs. swivelling in his chair. And Hollinger hadn’t pressed it. You’re going to Scotland. No man could quite clear his mind of Roberta Langford. showing his holster and pistol. It was great fun losing his tail and making it look like it was an accident because he was a fast driver anyway. But not Robbie. However. Langford had kept her word too. why should I be surprised.
the MI-5 Twenty Committee?” “I believe so. unlike Hess. That’s time enough for scars to heal from the surgery. The Germans kept asking for her. young Wesley. Operation Decoy. yes. “You never cease to amaze me.” 173 .” “Sounds like Dunampton all over.” “You won’t even have to meet him.“I thought you retired Denise after the last Hess operation. That’s precisely what I want you to do. The Germans have a new agent. We’re going to use her again. It’s been three months since Lancer disappeared.” “Another case for the double cross.” Lampert took the pipe from his mouth. He’ll be here in three days. I’ll send a few men with you.” “Why me?” “We can’t take the chance on briefing any more agents on this Himmler thing.” “And you want me to find out if this Tommie is the old Lancer with a new disguise. We brought her out of mothballs three weeks ago to trap an agent.” “You won’t. “We couldn’t. However did you know?” “I put two-and-two together. Night low-level drop.” Lampert puffed on his pipe. We had to call her out of retirement. I thought I wasn’t going to be put in the face of danger again. The Blue Force. But I don’t know. codenamed Tommie.” “How many men?” “Four.
men had their hands on each other. “Scary. I should let you know that Lawrence’s courier is on the way. Parading on the spotlighted stage were men in a chorus line dressed up like women.” Lampert grinned.” “Damn right. and bullied them. watching the show. This would be a first.” “By the way. A hunch. It was better than Committee B. At the tables.” “Colonel. Come for some fun?” 174 .” Hollinger considered the past. and Hut Nine. and they wore makeup. now you’re thinking like me. “OK.“Well. But how do you know it has anything to do with Himmler?” “I don’t. there. isn’t it.” **** Berlin One glance inside The Pyramid and Adam Eiser knew he had invaded the domain of a homosexual cabaret. Two couples were kissing. “Hi. Someone named Harris. somewhere in Vichy. They were singing.” “Do you suppose the negatives will arrive before Tommie does?” “They’d better. it beats the hum-drum of the office. Someone tapped him on the shoulder. But never had he asked them for help. Eiser had spied on homosexuals before.
I’ll buy you a drink. Do you know him?” “Oh. He’s in one of the back rooms. with a thin moustache – like Eiser. His chest was full of tattoos. Knock first.Eiser glared at a portly man about forty. Third one on the right. Obviously a bodyguard. stripped to his waist.” “Very well.” the bodyguard said. He was wearing a tuxedo. “Ja?” He stuck an arm across the door frame. “You can go in now. A man was laid out on a bed. I want to see Buhle. “Gestapo Headquarters sent me. “He’s busy. and pounded his fist against the door. Wallace. a white shirt. “Are you Walter Buhle?” 175 . a young man about twenty came down the hall and walked past the body guard. After a few minutes.” Eiser turned and watched the crowd and stage show. and a bowtie. until he came to the hallway. “Come on back later.” The man pointed. He was gray-haired. Eiser found the room. I’m looking for Walter Buhle. studying Eiser with a curious eye. crooked teeth. bald.” Eiser edged through the crowd of onlookers. “Come in!” Eiser flung the door open. with slicked-back hair.” “I think not. “Not especially. You might have to wait a few minutes. Standing at the entrance was a brute of a man with huge muscles bulging from a white shirt.” The muscle man pulled his arm away. In his hand was a drink.
He and I were . you knew Hess during his early days in Munich. Eiser leaned forward.” “Then you must know a lot about him. friends. We have many noted visitors who say things under 176 .” The man’s disposition changed. . . Herr Buhle?” “Many times. “Himmler could shut this place down in twenty minutes if he wanted to.” “Yes. Military and political secrets pass through here. It turned his stomach to see that Buhle used nail polish. you don’t know the deal. I miss him dearly. I want some information. because we are a great source of information to him and the Gestapo. were . Physical features.The man bounded to his feet. I was one of his favorites. “Sit with me. He smiled.” Eiser pulled out a chair. “I asked you a question. “I don’t know you.” “Deal? What deal?” “Herr Reichsfuehrer will do no such thing. . .” “Can’t I? Obviously. “The Reichsfuehrer said you . close. Is that true?” “It’s possible.” Buhle sauntered to a table in the corner of the room. . How did you get in?” “Himmler sent me.” “What kind of information?” Buhle closed the door. . “He said you were close.” Glaring. You can’t demand favors.” “I want a favor first.” “Then you shared the same bed. birth marks.
shaking his finger. Blood squirted from his nose. Josie – my dog – died last week.” Buhle held his nose to stop the bleeding. a sneer on his lips. the favor. with a red bow.” Eiser winced at him. Room sixty-four. “All right! Tomorrow!” “Bring it to my apartment at the Straumhausser. “While you’re at it. his voice muffled by the cloth to his face. “Himmler might not be too happy with you. at the same time reaching in his pocket for a handkerchief. I want my poodle by tomorrow. “Go ahead. Say. Do whatever you want.” “And I suppose you want a specific color. “A dog?” “A puppy to be exact. Then we talk. then. Six o’clock. returning the handkerchief to his nose. Now. a poodle.” Reaching out quickly. “Cross me and you’re kaput. too?” Buhle removed the handkerchief and checked it for blood.” Eiser cursed. now. Eiser grabbed Buhle by the hair and smashed his face to the table.” Eiser stood up.” he said. 177 . “Now.” he said.the influence.” Buhle scolded. I want a new one. White. yes.” “Get your own damn poodle!” “Forget the whole thing. Sixteen Rhone Avenue. “That’s not nice. Bring me a poodle and I will give you your information on Hess.
” 178 . smoking train. She felt safe and secure.” “I’m American.CHAPTER THIRTEEN Lisbon – November 25 She emerged from the hissing. black and polished. Do you know where the Empress Hotel is?” “Yes. No one should be paying any attention to her here in warm and tropical Lisbon. She flagged the first taxi she saw. it hit her. Dammit. She couldn’t wait to change. Ma’am is quite sufficient. She saw a parked Mercedes across the street from the stuccoed train station. minus the swastikas and jackboots. Those Nazi bastards could take Portugal too. “You speak English?” she asked the bulbous-nosed Portuguese man behind the wheel. there were German drivers and German passengers. They were here. her eyes roaming across the foreign faces in the station multitude. Senorita. I do. He respectfully nudged the brim of his black cap and smiled. She saw another Mercedes. if they wanted. Then out of nowhere. not far away. The car was impressive. ma’am. Where there were German cars. “Yes.
“Take me there. If he doesn’t lose you. She took the elevator up. Her room was ready. Then she showered – the first one in two days.” The driver was waiting in his vehicle. This was the real Lydia Harris. In the room. smoking a cigarette. “Follow that cab. Schmidt slipped an American twenty-dollar bill through the window and the driver’s eyes popped. and slipped into a snug. the most expensive and luxurious hotel in Lisbon. Gray skirt. sir. She neatly placed a broad-brimmed white hat on her head.” “Yes. The woman – Harris – was one of the first to get off. Good man. sir!” **** She checked into the Empress. He looked around and jogged across the street. White blouse. please. He had class. Blonde. rose-colored dress that revealed her firm. she undid her hair and let it fall to her shoulders. 179 . She put on her pale-red lipstick. cocked over one eye. Five-seven. “Taxi!” “Yes. but stay well back of him. She stood out among the dark-haired men and women. Hair in a bun. slender figure. knee-length. this Saturn. There was a carefree American swing in her walk. whoever he was. I’ll give you another one just like it.” **** It was simple for Hans Schmidt. the rage back home in the States.
” And she didn’t expect to see such a well-tanned Englishman. . and seemed to relax.No more hair-in-a-bun stuff anymore.” He smiled. didn’t expect Lawrence to send a woman courier. in shock. I suppose. took to the stairs. . A man in shirt sleeves and tie came into view. cautiously. The door opened slowly. .” “Perhaps we should also be on first-name terms?” “Good enough. you’re on first-names with him. “Saturn?” she whispered. “Who are you?” “I’m .” He rushed her inside. and closed the door.” “Lydia.” “You’re Harris?” the man said. . “You’re American?” “That’s right. He glanced up and down the hall. All he said was – Harris. “That’s me.” “Now that the formalities are over. “Is anything the matter?” “I . “We know each other quite well. It took the stone-faced man some time to answer.” “Ah. She tossed her hair back with a flick.” She cleared her throat. Call me Ken. do sit down.” “Come in.” “I’m Kenneth Sims. Harris. I see. Lydia Harris. and trotted two stories up. David knew it would be difficult for an Englishman taking a train through Vichy. She knocked at Room 418. we can – come. Can I get you a drink?” 180 . “A good disguise.
Lancer. did you?” “No. “Excellent quality. crossing her smooth.” Sims studied the 35mm negative transparencies against the light of the sunny window. Maybe later.” “Let’s do it then. I was told to tell you he is a German spy named Eiser.” Harris found herself in a wide. How did Shean acquire them?” 181 .” He slid the contents out.” “Your purse? You didn’t keep it in your purse going through Vichy. “There you are. Aren’t you going to ask me what I brought with me half-way across the continent?” “I was getting around to it. a gentle breeze brushing the drapes. The windows were open. I thought it safer than the front. “Yes. sun-filled living room containing soft wall-to-wall carpet.” “I’m inclined to agree. sitting in a comfortable chair. Over the terrace.” “Adam Eiser! Are you positive?” “Yes.“Not right now. the branches of a thick palm tree fluttered. Under my bra strap. Eiser! So that’s what this is all about. David told me his codename.” She smiled. “I presume that you know who Shean works for?” She nodded. MI-6. Behind my back.” “It would be a pleasure. “Is that the lot? Three negatives of a man?” “Not just any man. long legs.” She opened her purse and handed him a small manila envelope. “When we go for dinner. after plastic surgery.” “Bloody hell.
No.” “Yes. “I’ll see you at seven.” He checked the register.” **** Schmidt slid a crisp British pound note across the counter to the hotel clerk with dark hair and moustache.” Sims jumped to his feet. David got in.” “Sure. thank you.” The jittery clerk quickly tucked the money inside his pocket. by Clipper. Never could sleep on trains. snapped pictures without anyone knowing. about thirty. I know some people in London who’d like to take a look-see at these.” “When?” “Two days. asked for a room today. and developed the negatives.“A little burglary of a surgeon’s office in Switzerland. What about you? Where are you going from here?” “New York.” Sims eyed his wrist watch. I need a good rest. the one who performed the surgery. “An American woman.” “This is astounding. smoothing his moustache. “Miss Harris. “I must go book a flight. then. for dinner. blonde. Coming on to three. What room is she in?” 182 . Do you want to come for a ride? See some of the sights?” “No. “How may I help you?” “I need a room number.
“Two-three-eight. We can beat him there if you like. Schmidt sauntered over to the taxi. “Let’s go. The German calmly looked the other way. “Yes. He started up the engine at the same time that a streetcar passed by them. Schmidt and the taxi driver waited. Keep a safe distance. a safe distance astern.” The first stop was six blocks away. jumping into the back seat. Sims got into his car and left. After driving five or six miles through narrow palmlined streets. Schmidt came to one conclusion. 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. Of course. “Here he comes. From the other side of the cobblestone street. Sims stepped into his automobile and drove away. The cable office.” Schmidt said.” “Another ten American dollars on top of the charge?” the Portuguese driver asked firmly. sir. “Follow him.” said the driver.” “Then take it. “He’s heading for the airfield.” **** 183 . Get going.” “I know another way. Fascinating.” Schmidt turned and saw Sims get off the elevator and quickly blend into the crowd. Schmidt took note.
She slowly slipped her nightgown over her body. sending her crashing to the floor. then opened up. In an instant. Miss Harris.” **** Lisbon Wakened from a deep sleep. Schmidt returned to the taxi. more than likely. a plan taking shape in his mind. shoving an envelope in his suit-jacket pocket. And this right after sending a cable and a possible meeting with an American reporter. she 184 .” She hesitated. and slid out of bed to answer the knock. “Room service. “The Empress. leaning against her side of the door. buttoning it up. A gasp escaped her lungs.” “Compliments of the house.” A man’s voice. she stretched. Tickets! What else? His old MI-6 friend had booked a flight. who is it?” she said. As a British Embassy worker he’d have priority status. “I don’t remember calling for room service.Sintra Field Through the glass of the Lufthansa window. Take the shortcut. sir. The door banged her in the face. Hands lunged out. ma’am. He came out five minutes later. To Whitchurch. Move it!” “Yes. He could bump anyone. It had to be more than a coincidence. Schmidt saw Sims burst into the British Overseas Airways Office. “Yes.
“What do you want?” she managed to emit through the handkerchief. stunned her.” A slap across the side of the head. You scream. Let’s try again. her arms bent at odd angles behind her back. “Negatives. “What did you say?” He shook her. above her temple. What information did you give Sims?” Another slap came down on her. “What information did you give Sims?” “Nothing. but the grip grew tighter. A swift knee to her back pinned her. The sound echoed in the room. you die. She tried to squirm. She should have gone with Sims. “What?” He drew closer to her ear. She was dragged into the bedroom and thrown on the bed.” The voice was now distinctly German. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed the white sleeve of a jacket and a faint smell of hard liquor. Beads of perspiration formed on her forehead. Fraulein?” She shook her head. What a fool she was staying here. face down. Harder. Her throat tightened. dizzy from the blows. For that she received another slap.found herself gagged with a handkerchief. She couldn’t see her assailant. “Don’t move. Don’t look back! I warn you!” 185 . hovering over her. “Negatives!” “Negatives of what. By herself. “I think you do know.” she tried to say. Not this way. “That’s not the right answer.
The pounding continued. gradually . mouth. She tightened the belt of 186 . The beast was going to kill her. But how long was she out? Why had he left her alive? Then again. she stepped forward. . fell. I’m going to let the gag go. Her clothes were still on. **** She didn’t come to until she heard the pounding on the door. . It took her a few moments to realize where she was. managing to move her legs as best she could. “Lydia!” Slowly. . she hadn’t seen his face. . . . . . Her whole body was one big sore – arms. wrists. Left .” She couldn’t suck in oxygen quick enough. Had he heard someone? Perhaps the real room service. And that nasty German with the liquor breath had vanished. she stumbled to the door. one foot in front of the other. Slice her up.A knee crunched into her spine. If she wasn’t terrified before. ribs. left . Like a drunk. Her imagination went to work. . So had the handkerchief. clothes strewn about. she certainly was now. A shiny knife slid by her right eye. But he had left the room turned upside-down. then got up. Her head began to spin. “Tell me who it was or I’ll cut your heart out through your spine. The rest . She was still alive. back. . right . and tasted blood. grayed over. She must have fainted. She looked down at herself. It took all her strength to get herself off the bed. right. . She licked her dry lips. head. . Only what her eyes focused on stayed in focus .
You’re coming with me. That’s all. there. stunned to see a red welt on the side of her head and dried blood above one eye. He gently placed his hands on her shoulders.” She opened the door a fraction. “Who is it?” “Lydia. giving her a handkerchief.” “Hotel jacket. and she burst into tears. I’ll bet. Disguised himself as an employee. For tomorrow.” Then her bottom lip quivered. He knows I gave you something. then entered. They must have been. “A white jacket.her nightgown. staring at her.” “The Germans were tipped off. What did he find out?” “That I gave you negatives. Her blood ran cold. Did you get a glimpse of him at all? What was he wearing?” She wiped her eyes and described what she had seen. I booked a BOAC flight to London.” 187 . “Who did this?” “I didn’t get a look at him. “What on earth!” She tried to smile. I had better change it to two seats. Listen to me. She promised herself she wasn’t going to cry.” Sims saw that the place had been ransacked. “He wanted to know what it was. she said. Sims first peeked inside. He set her down on a chair. Let me in. it’s Ken. though. outside the hotel. Schmidt.” Her voice cracked. “I saw him leave in a taxi. “There. Ready to lock it. “I complained about the accommodations. He doesn’t know what they are. The door was unlocked.” he said under his breath. probably. But he had a German accent.
He barked at the traffic. you probably have. You’ll be safe there. He barked at a German Shepherd that was taking it’s out-of-shape owner for a walk. “Yes. You’ll never last another day around here. I’ll shoot first. With that lump.“But I’m going to New York. She winced. and wiped her tears. Her side hurt. Try London.” She laughed a little. “You’re room?” “Don’t worry.” “Do you have a gun?” “Bloody right. For the entire ride from the pet store. He barked at pedestrians.” **** Berlin Eiser drove his Mercedes to the eight-story Straumhausser apartment building at a few minutes to six. It’s not what you think. If anybody breaks in. and steered to a side lot. I don’t think you’ll want to be seen in public. vermin!” Eiser snapped at the furrywhite runt with the red bow. You can stay with me in my room tonight. That man’ll kill you. “Come along.” “I’ve heard that one before. We’ll have dinner here.” She brushed her hand through her hair. 188 . anyway. the poodle had plopped his front paws on the passenger window and never stopped barking.” “Not out of Lisbon you’re not.
“It’s yours. I think I’ll call it Rudolf. isn’t he?” “Yeah. and turned away.” She nodded.” Buhle put the poodle down and let it scamper around the apartment. Eiser slapped it across the mouth. his left cheek. The poodle growled. “Good boy. I really don’t care. Why do you want to know this?” 189 . boy. smiled awkwardly. “Now. “Sorry. and it yelped. “Going out.” Inside. Makes my dear heart flutter. Eiser handed Buhle the dog.It growled. his right nostril is slightly crooked. Here you go. “He’s not house-trained yet. Eiser found Buhle’s room. up from his elbow.” Buhle took the animal in his arms and patted its ears. Is that all you can remember about Hess?” “Yes. a uniformed Hitler Youth. On the sixth floor. Buhle met Eiser wearing a white shirt and dress slacks.” Eiser slammed the door behind him. Hess has a fairly large mole on his right arm. talk.” he said to the woman. a loosened tie slung around his neck. Eiser stepped on the elevator with a woman and her ten-year-old son. At least the last time I saw him. are you?” Eiser asked “Yes. He didn’t think he’d get that close to the prisoner. “To start with.” “If you want. And several cute moles on his bottom.” Eiser cleared his throat.” Buhle played with the pup. “Shut up!” Eiser hit it. What was he going to say? Drop your pants? “Anything else?” “Yes. “Frisky.
booted the dog across the room. “Don’t kill him!” “Shut up!” Eiser fired. “Thanks for the information.“Can’t tell you. though. then withdrew his gun.” Eiser grunted. lifted its leg. His face somehow.” The dog strutted up to Eiser. His aim was perfect. Many years ago. one other thing. Eiser looked down. I saw his face once on a news reel. At least. He was making a speech. the Hess I knew.” “Pig! What am I supposed to do with a dead poodle?” “Flush him down the toilet. Maybe I’m wrong. But it could be my imagination. It didn’t look like him. It’s weird. Can’t quite figure it. “I hate poodles.” “What do you mean?” “It didn’t look like him. and peed on his pant leg. He turned to Buhle.” Buhle turned white. His jaw.” Eiser grunted. 190 .” “Are you saying that someone could have been impersonating Hess?” “I’m guessing. “Oh.
Stalin had to be shaking in his boots. They had taken Istra – forty miles northwest of the Russian capital. Wesley Hollinger put himself in a German soldier’s shoes. In his mind’s eye. Was England next? Hollinger still couldn’t bring himself to believe it. The gap was closing. He could see the spires of the Kremlin through his telescope. “Wesley?” 191 . On the Eastern Front. The inter-office telephone rang.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. Advance Wehrmacht units had fought their way to the suburbs. Total victory for Hitler was only one final push away. He reached for it. It was not good news for the Allies. Hollinger turned up the volume and listened to every word. the Germans were unleashing their forces against Moscow. Erwin Rommel’s Afrika Korps were thundering towards Egypt and the treasured oil fields beyond.
Hollinger walked two doors down to Langford’s office. colonel. “Fancy meeting you here. but they were organized into three tidy stacks. Her office was the same picture of neatness that she was in personal appearance. Then take your trip up to Scotland knowing what you’re up against. He reserved two seats for a BOAC morning flight tomorrow. Swell.” “I have a decoded cable in my hand. A whistle. Flight 725. She was still on lunch. and see them for yourself? We’ll have an aircraft ready to fly the negatives to London. old chap. Just say it. and waited. You know what I mean?” “Yes. colonel. She turned the corner. He sat down in a chair. Not a speck of dust anywhere. It was Robbie’s unmistakable quick step. boss. His eyes traveled around the room.“Yes.” “Hopefully. Why don’t you hang about. alone. Shades of Lampert. He wondered how he would say it to her. Today was a good time. She had a smile on her lips and a bounce to her step. Not a pen or pencil out of place. Saturn has the negatives. we can nail this thing down before anything gets out of hand. Due to arrive at Whitchurch around five.” Later. “Take-off from Lisbon nine-fifteen our time.” Hollinger heard the rustle of paper. Then he heard the tap of heels down the hall.” 192 . She seemed to be in a great mood for some reason. that’s all. The file cabinets to one side were tightly shut. Her desk contained many papers.
talk. I don’t. eight?” “This isn’t another history lesson on Hitler.” She gave it heavy consideration. They don’t go over well. Your place. . You know. Eight o’clock. and held it to a cigarette.” “Oh. Don’t be late because . That means talk. The driver wound the top-down Mercedes convertible slowly through the cobblestone street until he came to a series of small. “You can bet your ass it’s no history lesson. is it?” She took a drag. . Look. He drew the shiny convertible to a stop. dear boy.” “So am I.” **** Zurich The sun set.” She puffed and flicked the match out. Tonight. I can’t take this any longer. Robbie.” She sat down. come off it.” he said to the passenger.” 193 .” She walked around her desk. “So. We have to iron some things out. tucked close together with barely a walkway for each front property.” “Whatever are you talking about. two-story row houses with dormers. . “This is it. About . . “Not here. all right. “Three-forty-one. I have something to tell you too.“Hi. We have to get something squared away. The street lamps flickered on on this cool night. “Oh. I’m busy. “No. struck a match.
he saw a woman walk past the dresser on her way upstairs.” the passenger said.“Let’s get in and out before her roommate comes back.” The driver nodded. He carefully and quietly climbed the stairs. I’ll take the one on the right.” **** 194 . The passenger shook his head.” They stood there and listened. “Leave her be. The door to the bathroom closed. She was early. The driver eased the lock open with his skeleton key. He removed his gun from his holster. Forget your home manners now. A drop-leaf desk. After a few minutes. “Up we go. “Right. “She’s here. They started with their search on the first floor. A night light. Next came the basement. Nothing. The driver pointed upwards. Once in. See what she does. Speed takes priority. A living room light was on.” “Right. They heard a car door slam. don’t move so much as a dust particle. Kitchen cupboards. he locked up behind them. From the darkness of the door frame. Remember.” the passenger whispered.” They walked up. “These houses have two bedrooms. his associate behind. Nothing. The house door opened seconds later. the shower started. They rummaged through a few boxes and checked the contents within. Then they heard footsteps right above them. The dresser.
” “Profanity never gets one anywhere.” “What on earth for?” “Trust me. What is it?” she asked. “Come on! The lights! Quick!” He snapped his fingers. it’s not that. “Flick out the lights. What kind of mind do you have. I’ve forgotten them. looking through a side slit in the blackout curtain. “Ouch!” “Hurry up. then stumbled around in the darkness.” “I don’t think so. anyway? I want you to see something out here. “Good girl. “What do we have to iron out?” “I know you’re still sore at me for my comments about the Big Guy. She doused the lights.” “Not in the least. yeah.” “This is a novel approach. He wheeled around abruptly. Langford lit a cigarette and served tea to Hollinger who had arrived a few minutes early.” She felt her way to the window.” “Ah.” “Oh. “Do tell. You’ve hardly spoken a word to me except for official Secret Service business. Lift the curtain so I can at least see where I’m going. You didn’t swear. “What are you doing?” she asked. “What’s the trouble?” 195 .” He got up and strode to the window.London Inside her flat. Sorry.” He motioned to the window.” “Blasted! I banged my knee!” She grunted.
then. down there? The beat-up one?” He held the curtain open for her.” 196 . So?” “The bloke in there’s tailing me.” She stared at him.” “What for? Who is he?” “I thought you might know. I didn’t know. She saw several Mr. Up from my MG. “Which one?” “The dented Morris.” “Well. I’ve been shadowed. She let her eyes grow accustomed to the inky night. “Why would I know?” She sounded sincere to him. “Ever since our little talk in the cafeteria.” “I see it. Across the street. I told you not to talk so loud. someone must’ve overheard us.” “Do you really think MI-6 is tailing you?” “Positive.” “All this time? Three months!” “You betcha. She sauntered towards him.“See the Mr. He could smell her hair and fragrant perfume this close.’s. Do I have your word a second time that you don’t know anything about my being tailed?” “Yes! I swear to God.” “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.
Maybe I was on to something. just in case they bugged your office too. My office is bugged too.” “Yes. If that’s the case. His heart pounded in his chest. She had posed a good question.” “Fun? Everything is fun to you.” “Reasons! That’s why I didn’t want to say anything in your office. must’ve had his reasons. they wouldn’t have gone to the trouble.” “I see. my side and your side have the same common goal. Fight Hitler.“OK. .” He was closer to her now. someone . The smell of her perfume. eyeing the street. . They were face-to-face. . He couldn’t help himself. He desper197 . You do it by fighting. “What?” She looked into his eyes. Save our own butts. An analyst’s assumption. It’s still fun. What do you think of Churchill and the Judge and the boys now? If I was way off with my political accusations.” “Good gracious! Well . I believe you. I guess. How do we know the British aren’t holding anything back? “I don’t know. We accomplish it by staying out of the war. the warmth of her body so close. His President’s words were ringing in his ears once more.” “There’s something else I want to iron out. Would they?” “I – I don’t know what to say. why do you keep working for us?” He shrugged in the darkness. The receiver is on top of the ceiling light. .” “But when it comes right down to it.” “No.
You’ll be interested to know there’s . “Stop it!” “Why? You don’t like fast men?” “No.” “It was?” “Yes. He wondered how he had waited so long to kiss her. ’cause you kiss even better than Annie Fannie. stepping back.. What happened to your aversion to redheads?” He shuffled forward.” “Who?” “You know.ately wanted to say a number of things. After all these months. Her arms slid around his neck and strong shoulders.” He felt he had to tell everything. then gave way. your gun was stabbing me.” “Too bad. cowboy. Breathless. despite a slight scent of tobacco.” “That so? You certainly had a strange way of showing it.. Robbie. She was responding. He kept kissing her. complications. the way he hoped she would. she shoved off. but he couldn’t find the words. “Robbie—” “Back off.” 198 . Her lips were soft. now. . until. . One kiss lingered long. the clerk with the Union Jack on her tush. He felt her body crushed to his chest. She tried to speak. She struggled for a second. He let go of the curtain. From the moment I saw you at Bletchley. but couldn’t. then took her in his powerful arms and kissed her with fervor and purpose. although clumsily. They were heartbeat to heartbeat. “I love you. her breath sweet. Yes!” “Yes?” “I mean.
” She released the curtain. But he gave me this engagement ring. it seems I was a day too late letting you know my intentions. Scotland. Just that I’m with the Secret Service. She didn’t answer. the room returning to the dark shadows. yeah. Not yet. He kept his distance.” His voice trailed off. “So.” “How do you know he’s not a German spy?” “Good Lord! He’s a fighter pilot!” 199 .” “So he had to get it off his chest before he left.” She lifted the blackout curtain to show him. That’s why she had been whistling. He paused.” “Does he know that you do classified work?” “No. He received a new posting to Banff.” “Who the hell is Alex!” He tried to keep his cool. “Is that what you were going to tell me tonight?” “Yes. Probably thinks I’m a secretary.” “Well. have the two of you set the date or something?” “No.” “Sorry. “Oh. One day short. Him.” “Oh.” “Yes.“What complications? What’s up?” “Alex. That officer – the fighter pilot – you’ve been seeing. We thought it best that we announce the engagement now. Him. “Engaged? When?” “Yesterday.” “Yes. it was. How stupid of him not to have noticed the ring she probably had been wearing all that day. He’s leaving next week.
.” He found the switch. no sense hanging around where I’m not wanted. She laughed.” Langford grinned.” she said.” “Watch yourself. I gotta go. Oh-nine-hundred. I’ve had enough excitement for one night. “Good hunting. On your right. rub it in. “Son of a—!” She laughed again.” Hollinger saw no point in loafing about any longer.. “Going into work tomorrow?” “Of course.. “Well. “There. Good night. “Where are they?” “Straight ahead.” He donned his hat. Ever see him fly?” “Well .” she said. Got the day off.” “I probably won’t see you until you get back from Scotland.” Langford joined him at the door. Be careful. sure. He smiled. “Thanks.” “Yeah. “Remember? No profanity. This was crazy. handing the fedora to him. thinking of the woman he had in his arms only moments before. I won’t be. why don’t you. “Well. The kitchen light snapped on. boss. . “What’s so damn funny?” “I think it’s safe to turn the lights back on. It was like fumbling on the oneyard line.” 200 . no. Now he was walking away from her.” His shoulder smacked the wall.“Anyone can be a spy.” He made a move for the door and banged himself on a chair. Toodaloo.
She pulled it off. After a few minutes he saw Richardson by his bedside.Their eyes locked. Why was he eating beef and chicken? Where was he born and when? How many 201 . except for a little blush at the door. What was he going to do? There were two guards outside his door. Richardson asked many questions that day in May. gently. Armored glass had been fitted to the windows in October. Schubert promised himself to be more polite. He took her by the arm. mindfully attempting to regain her dignity. If she could. Did he mean it? But she must think of Alex now. On this occasion. and pulled the covers up. He said he loved her. closed his eyes. After closing the door on him. she put her fingers to her lips. Where would he go? The prisoner laid his head down on the cot. riding the emotion. **** 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. He recalled the last time – the Tower of London. excited. savoring the moment of passion. He was a strong man. Her body was still warm. She had done a good job of looking unaffected. She touched the ring on her finger. These British were peculiar people. ones that the prisoner had trouble answering. and pushed him away.
Aris Palini made a long-distance call to Washington. sir. “Richardson. Why don’t you answer me?” In the hall.” “Really?” Vern and Henry listened at the prisoner’s door. Don’t you recognize me? I am Rudolf Hess. “Come here!” “W-what’s the matter?” “Hess is talking to himself again. Bill. Vern motioned to his partner.” “You’ll hear from Smith tomorrow morning. The first in nearly five months. throwing off the blanket. catching a name. “More paperwork in the youknow-what file. “Who’s R-R-Richardson?” Henry asked.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.” **** 202 .” “Yes. In German. “I’ve no idea. Let me go now. Chapman & Company.” she said. “Mr. How nice to see you again. I have come in peace.” **** New York City In the closing hours at Kerr.
some hundreds of years old. blonde hair. the moonlight falling on her long. He heard a sound and turned. “Yes. careful not to wake the sleeping beauty in his bedroom. he saw the narrow streets of the old quarter winding like a maze up the Sintra Hills. he’d be in London. Another world away. “What a view. “No. The stars were flickering overhead. he looked down at the bright lights of the intriguing espionage capital of neutral Europe.Lisbon – November 26 Unable to fall asleep. A cool breeze drifted in from the ocean – five miles west – and swept across the city. From the fourth-story iron rail. He threw on his robe. This was his Lisbon. Then he tiptoed through the French doors to the terrace.” she said. The moon was up. Hope I didn’t wake you?” “I couldn’t sleep either. he quietly poured himself a scotch from the liquor cabinet. clean and bright. In the darkness. swaying the nearby palm branches. softly. Through the open French doors. Where war had reared its ugly head. By this time tomorrow. shivering for a moment. crowded with soft-colored houses and shops. Sims got up from the couch. Harris appeared in her nightgown. combining with the lights to outline the city’s terracotta rooftops. Home for nearly two years. From this point.” 203 .” “Can’t sleep?” she asked. It was after midnight.
“MI-6 is a closely-knit family. Colonel Lampert.” Sims answered her. “I’ve kind of grown to appreciate its climate and its people.He held up his drink.” “How did you get started in your line of business?” “Recruited by a friend of my father’s.” She tossed her hair. Wicked. singing. “And spies hanging around.” “Yes.” “Yes.” They sat in the metal armchairs and placed the drinks on the iron table. It’s Lydia.” “I’m not budging. Can I get you one?” “A Doctor Sims remedy for insomnia?” “You might say that. She sipped and coughed.” He returned with her drink. “Cheers.” “Yes. Lydia. bookies. it does have a criminal element. They heard laughter. “Thought this might do the trick.” “Don’t go away. it is.” “Cheers.” 204 . “Wooh. Thugs. “However. the underground. and a piano playing from a distant bar. A warm scotch. Lisbon. they certainly do that. and Churchill’s inner circle.” “Don’t mind if I do.” he warned her.” she said. Miss Harris. “Nice place. It reminds me of the Swiss.” “I told you before. They value their neutrality.” “Drink slowly. An awkward silence came over them. “I will. straight up.” Sims thought of London.” He heaved a sigh.
I live in Switzerland.” “Somebody knew you had brought something with you. Americans aren’t suspects. In all probability. high cheekbones. Go ahead. I know these people. You can’t go through Vichy again. David. German agents will follow you the minute you return to Europe.” “That’s right. “And—” “I know. giving time for Sims to admire her stunning features in the available light.” “Well. She turned to him. Your boyfriend. They could arrest you as 205 .” “Must have been one of those times. and the swelling on the side of her head was covered by her hair. full lips. She saw him looking at her a shade too hard. May I ask you something?” “Why not. Gestapo Headquarters is putting together a file on New York Times correspondent Lydia Harris as we speak. I work there. She was attractive even now in the semidarkness – flawless complexion. And they sent word to Schmidt here. “It doesn’t hurt anymore.” “But I’m coming back in a few weeks. Something gave you away. With my country neutral. you know.” “Until now.” she protested.” “What got you started as a courier?” “David.The two grew quiet. Her wounds from the attack had been treated. the Gestapo did come aboard the train twice in Vichy.” “Good.
What did one famous person once say. The Germans enjoy war games.” “Where?” “Before the war in England. Lee. neither Harris nor Sims said anything. I have crossed paths with him.” His answer was firm. This is war.a spy. his mother’s side. “Who’s Eiser?” she asked. taking a smaller swallow of her drink. “Point taken. by the way. “Sounds familiar. We should grow too fond of it. Where have I heard that before?” “Robert E.’ Same war. It is hell. His father 206 .” he told her. taking a swallow.” Sims respectfully tipped his head at her.” She sighed. She went quiet. Harris pulled her nightgown tighter. “You think so?” “I know so. And your Embassy couldn’t do a damn thing to release you. During your American Civil War.” “That’s an understatement. I know. ‘It is well that war is so horrible. “What makes him so important?” “He’s a legend in the German intelligence service. He was a spy for the Germans. “And didn’t General Sherman once say. ‘War is hell. He’s half-English. He makes your blood curdle.’” The breeze blew at her hair. A killer.” For a full thirty seconds. They listened to the sounds of the city that didn’t seem to go to sleep. “It’s dangerous now.
the sandbagged buildings.” Her voice was shaking now. then he’s undoubtedly ready for an operation either on neutral soil.” “If you can take the blackouts. or even England. The Secret Service in London must have those negatives.” “Don’t be. and stabbed me in the chest. Spies run wild. He could be coming home to roost. or in Malta. Most don’t. If he went in for plastic surgery. we can arrest him the minute he steps on our home soil. He’s learned a lot in two years on the other side. you’ve got it made. He moved his chair closer.” “That’s horrible. “He won’t try anything again.” “I’m scared. the rations. But what can we do in Portugal? Switzerland’s the same.” 207 . With them. In August 1939.” “But at least I lived to tell about it. the smell.was German.” “Why can’t he be stopped?” “If this was England. three of us from the Service were ordered to arrest him. “What’s London like? I’ve never been there. But he slipped through our fingers. I was in a hospital for weeks. a place where his old face would be recognized by us.” She leaned back in the chair. we would do something. Promptly. I won’t let you out of my sight until we’re aboard our flight to London. “Of Schmidt?” “Yes. the rubble.” he assured her. or North Africa. It squeaked. He threw acid on one of our men.
like an innocent brother-to-sister kiss.” She lifted her glass. by jove.” “You don’t say. I know a great restaurant in Piccadilly. Lydia. He bent over and kissed her slowly on the forehead. We’ll be celebrating in London tomorrow. “Don’t worry.” “A toast. dulling them both.” “That’s true. The kiss of a protector. “To London. Just consider yourself fortunate he didn’t kill you.” “The Portuguese authorities won’t do a bloody thing. You never saw his face. To London.” “You don’t know for sure if it was him.” The alcohol seemed to be taking hold.“But he assaulted me.” 208 .
white. It unnerved Harris to look over and see swastikas on two airplanes through the open doors of the Lufthansa hangar across the concrete. The twinengine Douglas DC-3 passenger airliner near the gate appeared sturdy enough to make the flight. and consumed a breakfast of ham. The aircraft was painted in an overall pale blue. 209 . It was a sharp sunny morning. eggs. Two countries at war with each other – England and Germany – so damn close. with red. pulled themselves together. not a cloud in the sky. and blue identification stripes on the long wing. served by staff in starched white coats. They set their luggage down on the warm concrete opposite the BOAC terminal. A small aircraft took to the air on the far runway. and coffee together at the hotel dining room. It had large black letters on the rear fuselage – A-GBLL. as she eyed their mode of transportation. “There she is in all her majesty.CHAPTER FIFTEEN Lisbon They woke a few minutes after seven. Then they took a taxi to Sintra Field.” Sims said to Harris. Perfect day for flying.
Harris noted the other passengers in the cabin. Major Ernst Jodel. Outside. The others were two Spanish couples with money. 210 . “FINAL CALL FOR BRITISH OVERSEAS AIRWAYS FLIGHT 725 TO WHITCHURCH. the loudspeaker voice exploded.The loudspeaker blared with a British voice. ENGLAND. “After you. “THOSE PASSENGERS ON BRITISH OVERSEAS AIRWAYS FLIGHT 725 TO WHITCHURCH. France The base CO. 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. “You take it.” she said. She took a seat with Sims over the starboard wing.” Sims smiled and pointed to the terminal’s main door.” “Thank you. They boarded. ENGLAND ARE REQUESTED TO MAKE THEIR WAY TO BOARDING AT GATE TWO. Six others were Jewish refugees.” **** Near Nantes. the cut of their clothes giving them away as the privileged of society. He offered her the window. Sims said that he knew three by name – all British Embassy officials.” Harris wished she was as confident as her English friend. but she didn’t want to look down once they were off the ground and over the ocean. by the look of them.
“One of the BOAC flights has departed from Lisbon. He pondered his telephone receiver. But he trusted Schmidt. To date. Jodel wasn’t accustomed to taking orders from the Gestapo. Fifteen minutes ago. In minutes. experienced Messerschmitt BF-110 pilot of 16th Staffel. Major Jodel would call upon von Reiden. But this flight had the makings of an international incident. both interested in the Whitchurch-LisbonGibraltar flights and other related information that passed through this side of the continent. Only one option was available to him – telephone Schmidt’s business office in Portugal for verification. He and Schmidt had an agreement.” Jodel cleared his throat. for it was in the form of an order. Kampfgeschwader 50. Jodel wanted to know why Berlin had not authorized this. **** Major Jodel looked up as Hauptmann Albert von Reiden reported. he had made more than forty reconnaissance sorties over the Bay of Biscay. They shared intelligence on the diplomatic line. Top Secret. decorated with the Iron Cross 2nd Class during the Polish Campaign. Hauptmann von Reiden. “At ease. They saluted in unison. For such a mission. Hans Schmidt.” “You wished to see me. there was no love lost between the men in black and the Luftwaffe. he received his answer. In most cases. Herr Major. destination 211 .It was from his friend. Odd.
It had been a long night. Drained of energy. her mind and body were in disarray. discussing their futures.” “Mein Gott! Shoot it down? But. so sometime before dawn she finally told Alex she didn’t love him. “Why are you standing there? Dismissed!” Von Reiden clicked his heels and withdrew. they talked of Banff. I want you to take four fighters with you and intercept it.” “But. her forehead was pounding from a headache that had started soon after arriving at work.England.” “Do you wish me to escort it to France. Herr Major—” “Identify it and shoot it down! And don’t leave survivors. **** MI-6 Headquarters Still half-asleep. Langford had to do something. Over a pot of Hollinger’s strong American coffee. shoot it down. And to top it off. That’s all. She couldn’t pretend. A great burden had been lifted from her. This had carried on too long. It’s markings are A-GBLL. He left.. Orders from Berlin. but contented. Shoot it down. dejected. Roberta Langford felt lousy this morning. She was exhausted. 212 . but. Herr Major?” “No.. She had been up for most of it with Alex. Alex was crazy about her and said he couldn’t live without her. Dismissed. She surprised herself.” “Yes.” There was no movement on von Reiden’s part.
” “Can you pass him a high-priority note. Then she was called into Headquarters in the morning. A cafeteria bench or a corner in her office. Spencer. Really. Robbie? You don’t sound yourself.” She slowly pressed the button on her phone.” “That’s absurd! Why would the Luftwaffe shoot it down?” 213 . bound for Whitchurch.” She cupped her forehead in her hand and closed her eyes. British Airways Flight 725 out of Lisbon. massaging her temple.” “I’m fine. Anything wrong.” “Let’s scramble on this one.” she said slowly. please.” “Yes. I am.” “Right you are. This is Spencer. “Robbie. 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.” She opened her eyes. yes. “Still there?” “Yes. We are. Go ahead. It couldn’t have come at a worse time. Her thought patterns were still in slow motion. The note.There were no tears. “Are your people certain?” “Oh. is going to be shot down in flight. Anywhere. after three hours sleep. straightaway?” “Don’t see why not. “OK. Her office phone rang and she answered it. wishing she could lie down.
The pilot took the machine up another 1. “There. “What are you doing here?” he asked. 214 .” “Why don’t you keep the darn things on?” “Where’s Colonel Lampert? Have you seen him?” “Yeah. slipping her second shoe firmly in place.” He grabbed the sheet from her hand and read it.“I don’t know. “I’ll get on it.” Langford scribbled down the information.” she said.” She reached for her high heels by her feet.000 feet and the turbulence seemed to feather out.” **** Over the Atlantic The flight north was far from smooth. “Now what do you say?” “Flight 725! Why that’s the one we’re waiting for. “Do you mind?” Langford grabbed it back.000 feet. stumbled out of her office. the air pockets bounced the DC-3 around. and saw Hollinger traipsing through the hall. but that’s how it comes out. bending down. “Thought you weren’t in today.” “Never you mind. I saw him drinking tea in the cafeteria. And the airliner is already en route. At 4. mister. What’s up? What you got there? Let’s see.” “You mean the Germans would actually shoot down one of our passenger planes? That’s unheard of!” “I know.
So there’s a long time yet. . about eight hours.” “They do!” “They track our courses.” She didn’t feel comfortable with that.” Sims said to Harris in the seat beside him. . The Germans knew they were making this flight.“Settle down. “Everything’s going to be all right. I’m told. see that we’re civilian. It’s over a thousand miles to Whitchurch. .” “That goes without saying. Harris recalled the close proximity of the BOAC and the Lufthansa hangars and offices at Sintra Field.” “Eight hours!” she replied. BOAC takes to the air along this route nearly every day. Got to take a wide berth around the continent. They take one look. “Relax. They won’t try anything. ooh .” “Will this thing make it? It whistles from one end to the other. “Of course.” “The DC-3 can fly around for half a day without refueling. As the crow flies would have been quicker. and scoot back to France.” “How close do we get to France?” “We miss the tip of Brittany by a good hundred miles.” Once more. . “Do any German aircraft come out here?” “Quite often. But we can’t do that.” He raised a hand. The Luftwaffe haven’t 215 . “But they know we’re here.” “How long will this take?” “Altogether . Lydia.
tried anything before. . “Now you tell me. She looked down to the floor to the brown leather briefcase – the diplomatic pouch where the negatives were tucked. sometimes. LEUTNANT?” “READY WHEN YOU ARE. held them there.” She turned to Sims.” She tried to cheer herself up.” his navigator behind answered.” “What are you talking about?” “I get airsick . “I suppose I should’ve said something before.” Sims frowned.” **** Near Nantes The ground crew chief slid the BF-110 canopy closed and clambered off the wing to the tarmac. . staying clear of the spinning propeller of the sleek twin-engine twoseater. then dropped 216 . “Oh.000 RPM. I knew I shouldn’t have eaten all those eggs. He pressed the intercom button with his gloved hand. Closed in. “ARE YOU READY. HERR HAUPTMANN. Von Reiden reached up and snapped the safety lever in place. we might start shooting Lufthansa planes down. then strapped himself to the seat. Why would they start now? If they did. von Reiden pointed down. The DC-3 hit an air pocket and she held her breath. Von Reiden revved the dual Daimler Benz V-12 powerplants – two thousand horsepower at his command – to 2. Two ground crew yanked the chocks free of the wheels.
READY FOR TAKE-OFF. HERE. He applied the toe brakes. DO YOU READ?” “RED TWO. two minutes apart.” Von Reiden was satisfied. RED STAFFEL LEADER. He had set down the rules in preflight. The others would bring up the rear in pairs.” “RED FIVE. Blue flames spit out the exhaust pipes. He’d take off by himself.” The five gray-blue camouflaged Messerschmitt BF110’s pulled out of dispersal in a disciplined follow-theleader fashion. manufactured by Messerschmitt to wage war on German enemies to National Socialism. STAFFEL LEADER. STAFFEL LEADER OUT.” “RED THREE. facing west.” “RED FOUR. he revved his engines until the raw power screamed in his ears. He pressed a switch on his right to give the wing twenty-degree flap. They snaked their way to the longest runway. halfway down the 217 .” “PROCEED. STAFFEL LEADER. Von Reiden swerved his fighter around. He pressed his radio transmitter button. He had been flying them since the war began. “PROCEED.” Von Reiden ran through the routine. He pressed his R/T. The Luftwaffe knew it as the Zerstorer – Destroyer. They squealed. The BF-110 was his baby. “STAFFEL LEADER TO RED FLIGHT. Left hand on the throttle levers. HERE. “RED STAFFEL LEADER TO TOWER.them to idle. into the stiff wind. He looked through the windscreen to the flopping windsock.
Laden with fuel. A strong force was at play. Then the props caught the airflow. The fighter jolted into motion. The windsock came and went in a flash. Then he released the brakes. The end of the runway appeared ahead. Lift-off. A thousand yards of beige-white concrete stretched out over the nose. Von Reiden sighed when the wheels left the concrete. The wheels thumped over the concrete sections and cracks. She gained speed slowly for the first few moments. the 12. combining with the lift under the wing.runway. ammunition. Von Reiden advanced the throttles to his twin engines. 218 . Tail up. He pressed the undercarriage switch. building up. ahead-left. The hydraulic action pulled the wheels into the belly with a thunk. and two men in bulky flying gear.000-pound Messerschmitt was off. He turned to his side and raised his thumb to the navigator. Von Reiden applied hard rudder to prevent swinging in the early stages.
Well. “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. They’ll know we have broken the code. We can send our fighters to intercept the German fighters. “It’s already in the air.” “Absolutely not.” “And what is that. haven’t you set a trap for him?” “If it is him. examining the end of it. The C-phone conversation with Churchill wasn’t what the two of them had anticipated.” “But. Colonel Lampert tilted his smoking pipe towards him. colonel?” “Once the aircraft gets into radio communication with Whitchurch.CHAPTER SIXTEEN MI-6 Headquarters Langford glanced at Hollinger. then there’s one other option. Besides. we could order them to return to Lisbon.” 219 . sir. the photographs.” Lampert pleaded. sir.
the only other option is to—” “Let Flight 725 get shot down.“Nothing doing. She could sense a slow burn in him. I imagine. There’s no secret code between Whitchurch and its pilots.” Lampert hung up. this is a hard decision. “They’re dead ducks. the strain of the decision telling on him. “If we had gotten the message before he left. aren’t they?” Lampert stared past the American. Goodbye. sir.” Churchill sighed. a sorrowful.” “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.” He stared at Langford.” the colonel said. “The time when it really counts. I don’t want you referring to our Prime Minister in that 220 . “How dare you.” “But. They’ll all be killed!” Langford shot a look at Hollinger. “You know what I mean?” “The son-of-a-bitch!” Langford swallowed hard. But it’s my decision. “Anything we do will be suspicious. Ours not to reason why. “Seems so. Hollinger sprang from his chair.” “Sir! There are twenty people on it. Colonel. He shook his head at her. glazed look to his eyes. “Wesley. Mine alone. stiffly. The Morse Code would be intercepted by German controllers. we might have been able to do something. Someday you’ll see that I’m right.
” Hollinger moved closer to Lampert. Lampert shook his head. “I contacted Shean about that very thing. Wesley. They’re on to us. “Perhaps we can we obtain another set of negatives?” she asked. She agreed – partly – with Hollinger.” “Didn’t our agent in Zurich make photos from the prints?” “Yes. Miss Langford. her voice low.” Langford saw Lampert look to her for support. Besides. .” “A fence-sitter. Too dangerous. Wesley. in a sealed letter. you only need to think on this matter for a moment to understand why he decided the way he did. 221 . just twenty. Not yours. The Germans know what we have. Not .” “They’re mostly our people. you mean. but there was nothing she could say. We’re saving it for the time when we’ll be able to save hundreds and thousands of lives. that sure as hell makes me feel better.” Lampert answered Langford’s next question. . as I recall. And don’t forget Coventry.” “Well. “Tell that to the families of the twenty. “Afraid not. Stay out of it. Breaking into the plastic surgeon’s a second time is out of the question. really?” “Yes. How many died there?” “You’re non-partial in this war. We can’t have that sort of thing.” “Oh. He left prints in the care of his girl friend in Zurich.tone and using that language.
“and see who this blasted Tommie is. Tears of anger filled Churchill’s eyes. Lampert shrugged. Coventry was bombed. “You had better go to Scotland. sir. Prime Minister Winston Churchill fidgeted quietly in the depths of the dingy War Room. Damned if we don’t. The prints have vanished.” “Swell.” the colonel said. her place was ransacked. The British cipher agents knew what was coming.” Hollinger snapped.” Hollinger said.” **** 10 Downing Street A few miles across London. He wasn’t God. Doesn’t see our point. some day people 222 . “Good luck. as you can see. something awful. One day . head down.” “Thanks.Trouble was.” “Then we’re up the creek without a paddle. . It was on November 14. Poor devil.” “Let me have a go at talking to him. He’s a wee bit bothered. tired. “Excuse me. . The image of Coventry in rubble the year before had come to his mind many times already. sir. slamming the door behind him. Now BOAC Flight 725. Wesley. I’ll need it. But Churchill could take no action. but he was playing God. “Damned if we do.” He scuffed out of the office. He knew the logistics of the situation only too well.” He looked at her with fatherly eyes.
The place was half-full. “My word. lifting a glass of dark-brown liquid to his mouth. and she shouldered her way through the young men. Hollinger tried not to hear. A fire was hissing along the far wall. firmly. and smelled of stale liquor.will thank him or at least understand why he had to make such decisions on who lived. What do you think you’re doing?” she asked Hollinger. red.” she said.” He gave way and let her pass. “I bet you were. One of them – nursing a drink – stepped forward. What you doing later?” “Piss off. then finally said. Just trying to be friendly. smiling. sitting on the barstool next to him. “Hello there. flyboy. and who died. “I’m not in the mood. his fedora on the counter.” “OK. eyeing her. A group of airmen watched Langford walk in. beneath a picture of the King of England.” “Who bit her tail off?” a slurred voice in the group said. “What the hell does it look like?” 223 . How many more Coventry’s and Flight 725’s would there be along the way? **** Near MI-6 Headquarters Langford found Hollinger perched against the counter in his favorite pub on a side street near Whitehall.
” “That’s better. then.” “Serious misgivings?” 224 . And neither are you. One of those self-inflicted cases? Planning to get drunk?” She lit a cigarette. The worst thing I ever tasted. “Good etiquette certainly isn’t one of your strong points today. She nodded. I agree with you about the Portugal flight.” He put the glass to his lips. actually. I’m getting out of this God-forsaken business.” “Do you like it?” “No. “Imagine.” she said. I dunno.” “Nice speech. But I’m not the Big Guy.“Oh.” “What is that you’re drinking?” “Stout.” He sighed. we sit here on our fannies while innocent people bite the bullet in a matter of minutes. Excuse me. “I’ve had it. “I would have sent either an escort out or fighters to intercept the Germans. If it’s any consolation to you.” she whispered a few inches from his ear. Good and slobbering drunk. Right now I want to enjoy being miserable.” He belched. “You do?” He swung to her.” “That’ll be quite the achievement considering you have the whole day ahead of you. I might even close the place. “Let me guess.” “I feel quite up to the challenge. “Yes. I’m not in his shoes. exhaling cigarette smoke.” “OK.
“Up and quit?” “That’s what I said. “Let’s go for a walk.” “Me gutless?” He shrugged. Habit of mine. “Well.” “Moaning?” “Can’t hack it. stop your moaning. You deaf? Should I draw you a map?” “Don’t get your knickers tied in a knot. Charlie. “Like Hess defecting.” Langford surprised Hollinger by throwing away her cigarette. Going AWOL. “Good idea. Wesley.” she advised Hollinger firmly. “Look.” “Sorry. the air stank of exhaust mixed with a damp mist. Maybe I’m developing a conscience.” He tilted the glass and drank heavily. and sliding her hand in his inside his greatcoat. bitterly. boy? I think you’re downright gutless. And while you’re at it. maybe I am. Don’t walk so fast. Wesley.” He drained the rest of the glass and grabbed his fedora. and trying to warn you people of what’s coming. “Slow down.” he said. Goodbye. Get some fresh air before this gets out of hand. The gesture seemed to identify them as comrades. Not here.” In the street. two young people who had to grow up awfully fast for 225 . You mean quit?” “Yep.” She saw the airmen looking at them from across the pub.” “I see.“Yes.
We both did.” “What about the shadow? What if he should get the wrong idea?” She shrugged. no ring?” “It wasn’t meant to be. We need time to think. He’s out there somewhere.” “Who called it off?” “I did. don’t press it. I mean. His skin felt warm. though. I don’t wish to talk about it.” She returned her hand to his coat pocket. no. “Don’t take it as anything else.” “Right. for now. “I could use a friend.” “Does this mean you’re available?” “Shut up. Forget it. He’s going to squeal to the Judge that we have something going.their ages. Do we?” “Nothing. “I didn’t think you cared. Do we?” “Oh.” He removed her arm to look at it. thrust into an unfair uncompromising world of politics and classified documents. “Piss on him.” 226 . finding his hand. Put some breathing space between us. But how did you decide so quickly? Last night—” “Please.” “You’re kidding.” she said. I’m just cold. “Hey. Nothing. you’ve used that word today. or are you suddenly feeling sorry for me? Wait a minute. Don’t look around.” “That’s the second time.” “But we don’t. Please.
so it’s about time I returned the compliment. We are.” Hollinger said. play by the rules?” “No. All right!” They strolled shoulder to shoulder. if there is such a thing. The United States is not at war with the Japs or with Hitler. your President knows how it is. You won’t like some of the decisions made at higher levels in Washington. “You sure you don’t want to talk about it?” “I’m sure.They looked into the other’s eyes.” “Sounds like you know something I don’t?” “I know a lot that you don’t.” “Only until the end of the year. It’s a different world here. I remember. Something.” She poked him in the side. You worked on the Japanese code. 227 . With Hitler. What I’m about to tell you is Most-Most Secret. I guess not.” He decided to back off. a sign. “All right. Believe me. “Didn’t you know Intelligence is a dirty business? Did you think it was going to be easy and straight-forward. If there isn’t. Let’s walk.” “You kept a secret for me. “Besides.” “Your background before coming to Britain was the side of intelligence as seen through the eyes of a neutral power. Neither knew what. there should be. and Flight 725. He did it with the Hess case. each probing for a dent. stride for stride.” she said. Churchill has to do what’s right for the majority of us. Coventry. “Don’t quit. Lampert will have my head if he finds out I told you. You’ll see the difference if your country gets into the fight. remember?” “Yeah.
228 .” “Did you know she was spying for the American government?” He stopped. “Me and half the world. Let’s take a turn through it. Fred Noonan. they were strolling through the park’s winding paths. The government used her roundthe-world flight as a cover for her to photograph Japanese military installations in the Pacific. It was a real accident. Anyway.” “Yes. surrounded by bushes. What was his name?” She prodded him along until they picked up the pace once more. abruptly. “With my clearance to the MI-6 file room.” she continued. shall we?” They didn’t exchange a word for a few minutes. “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. pulling her hand out of his coat. And she claimed her aircraft was shot down within sight of Saipan.“There’s a park up ahead. A block later.” Langford continued. “Spying!” “Earhart and her navigator. I stumbled on the paperwork. She claimed she saw a woman fitting Earhart’s description in Japanese custody there. “You’re familiar with Emelia Earhart?” she began. “Noonan.” “Accidentally on purpose?” “No.” “Says who?” “Two months ago. a Japanese seaplane base on the island of Saipan.
” “Huh?” “Figure it out! Your President Roosevelt knew she went down inside Japanese territory but couldn’t rescue her or demand her return.” “All hush-hush. Quite. but how do you know Earhart was spying?” “The woman said the Japanese found aerial-photo cameras aboard her aircraft.” “The President?” “’Fraid so. Some say we still aren’t. ‘for a smart person.” “So. he could have started a war with Japan. The White House. you don’t know a snitch’. If he tried to rescue her.” 229 . The full details.Earhart left the island in Japanese hands. yes. “Bloody right they do. The MI-6 agent took the information to the American Embassy at Hong Kong. Alive.” “I guess you’re right. Probably not. Washington. Whether she’s still alive is only speculation. what’s the point?” Langford stopped him with a tug on his arm. We weren’t ready. And from there it went all the way to the top. Noonan was beheaded. “To quote someone I know.” “Yeah. huh?” “Oh. Not by any stretch.” “Does my government know what happened to her?” Hollinger asked. In 1937 your country was not ready for war.
Don’t quit.” “Remember. It’s tough at the top. Kind of like a scout for the rest. squeezing his arm.” “Yeah. I can feel it. doesn’t this situation remind you of Coventry or Flight 725?” Hollinger realized there seemed to be some merit in what she was saying. You’ll get used to it.“If he demanded her back. “OK.” “We’re drones. Your COI is just starting up.” “I still don’t like it. “Cheer up. mysterious eyes.” “But think of the bigger picture.” “Will I?” “Yawohl. Your country needs people like you. This is your training.” “You think so?” She nodded.” “Wild horses couldn’t drag it from me. I guess. Wesley. You’re being groomed for something bigger. then he would be admitting she was spying.” They stopped walking. “Welcome to the real thick-skin world of intelligence. I follow. keep the information to yourself. Twenty people heading to their deaths. He had wonderful. even for Iron Asses.” he said. back to you.” “Now.” She took in his stare without a blink. Now. “Robbie. “Yes. She liked what she saw.” “Robbie?” 230 .
” “What?” “Forget it..” Grinning.” She smiled at him.” 231 .“Yes.. until he looked away. “Yeah. Maybe I should have called him a prick. “No. Wesley?” “Yeah?” “You shouldn’t have called the Big Guy a son-of-abitch in front of Lampert. “One other thing. you’re right. Wesley?” “I still.” “Forget it.” “No?” She shook her head. he said. We both have work to do.
Harris was slouched in her seat. She blinked once. company’s dropping in.” he laughed. her head bent at an odd angle to her right. sleeping beside him. Suddenly. five hundred yards off starboard. She was a goodlooking woman in her brown jacket. she opened her eyes and sat up. matching skirt. her hat covering her face down to her nose. then turned to his companion. Twice.” The cabin came alive. as other passengers saw the five twin-engine fighters in a V-formation. and long legs under clear nylons. They were on a parallel course with 232 . Her eyes went to the window. “I say. “I guess I fell asleep.’’ “I guess you did. She had been out for over an hour.” He saw them too. “Look.” She glanced at her watch. A glare caught her eye and she pointed.CHAPTER SEVENTEEN Over the Atlantic Sims glanced through the square window at the solid mass of peaceful blue ocean. “Did I snore?” “No. The sky was bright.
His plan was to come out of the sun in a dive. I call it scared shitless!” **** Von Reiden pressed his R/T.” **** Von Reiden looked over his left shoulder to see his flight forming up. the blue-gray paint scheme. BREAK STARBOARD. the crosses.” Then he led the way.” Sims said. Checking us out. Everything’s under control. It wasn’t until they came within one hundred feet that the passengers saw the stenciled fuselage numbers. He saw the passengers in the windows. watching the ME-110’s peel off. **** “See. Like the Polish Front in 1939. “Yes. AGBLL. “STAFFLE LEADER TO RED FLIGHT. he knew the machine’s capabilities. my dear. the sun reflecting off two canopies. FOLLOW ME. What did I tell you? They’re turning away. yeah.the airliner. We call it diplomatic immunity. and two men per aircraft.” Sims said.” “Oh. and shoot the DC-3 in the back. “Just coming for a little look-see. “They won’t give us any ruddy trouble. NOW. the first to bank right. “Thank God for that. She was no 233 . Germans in ME-110’s. As a BF-110 expert.” Harris leaned back in her seat. “Germans!” Harris uttered. keeping pace with him.
. I READ YOU. UNDERSTOOD. The slipstream whistled over the canopy. .” Von Reiden pushed the control column forward and advanced the throttles. But she could take a tight turn when need be. She had limited maneuverability at medium and high speeds. making it hard to believe they were in the midst of a war. RED TWO AND RED THREE BREAK STARBOARD WITH ME. .” “RED THREE. and throttled back. STAFFEL LEADER. He watched his altimeter dial . The Battle of Britain proved that. UNDERSTOOD STAFFEL LEADER. His right thumb went up the control column to the firing button. “STAFFEL LEADER TO RED FLIGHT. . GUNS READY.000 feet. FIRE AT WILL ON MY SIGNAL.” Von Reiden flipped his mask in place.92mm machine 234 .dogfighter.000 .” “RED FOUR.. It was a serene day. And she could dive like a screaming eagle. RED FOUR AND RED FIVE BREAK PORT. 6. He found it unnatural. 8. . across the firmament. nose up slightly. he finished the bank. The DC-3 was a speck in the distance.. He banked in a tight starboard turn. careful not to stall his fighter. The Spitfires and Hurricanes could fly circles around her. “STAFFEL LEADER TO RED FLIGHT. .000. blending into a shrill. 7. OXYGEN ON. CONFIRM. climbing. leveled out. Connected to the button was the live ammunition of four nose-mounted 7.000 feet .” “RED FIVE. The speed quickly built up. the sun behind him. At 10. DO YOU READ RED FLIGHT?” “RED TWO.
then to the deck. The starboard engine was on fire. unconscious copilot. He pressed the button . “FIRE AT WILL!” he belted into the R/T. “Here they come again!” someone shouted. . **** Windows shattered and glass splintered along the length of the plane. “Stay down!” Sims scrambled to the now-punctured window beside him. one shell stabbing Sims in the arm. eh?” Harris reminded Sims. . Sims threw himself over Harris. **** In the cockpit. The wind was roaring through the cabin from a gaping hole flapping next to his bloody.guns. “No ruddy trouble. larger by the second in the reflector sight. A second salvo of bullets – a longer burst – riddled the aircraft. The flame 235 . What the hell was going on! The Germans had never attacked a passenger airplane out here. It would be a turkey shoot. The noise was thunder to his ears and the cockpit filled with the stench of burnt cordite. The pilot cut the power to the starboard engine and feathered the prop. his aim was trained on the target. A few more seconds. He collapsed to the seat. Within firing range. The DC-3 loomed up ahead. hurling both of them to the deck. Six hundred yards and closing. the BOAC pilot was desperate to pull the aircraft out of the dive. This wasn’t supposed to happen.
The airliner was sinking fast. nose up. sputtering. sir!” “Send an SOS to Whitchurch!” “Yes. Harris tried not to panic. oblivious to her own danger. flinging the passengers across the deck. The port engine was leaking oil. “Good enough. sir!” **** In a glide. Just. trailing black smoke. She stepped over two bodies. How could this be? Why had the Germans opened fire? “McMillian?” he yelled to his terrified wireless operator.” He did just that. she removed her jacket and wrapped it around her arm. Kick off your shoes. faltering. But it was still running. Salt water was pouring into the cabin. Then she broke and cleared the rest of the glass in the nearest window. With the chilling salt water at her knees. girl. The cabin quickly began to fill with water. Harris and Sims found themselves three seats up the aisle. 236 .” he sputtered. “Can you swim?” “A bit. Think clearly. She grabbed the injured Sims and helped him to the opening.extinguished itself.” They both took a deep breath. “Yes. the DC-3 struck the water flatly. “Heave ho.
. She heard engine noises. laboring. she saw Sims floating in the middle of an oil slick. There was no protection. she turned. kicking her feet. . flipping her long. They were close enough for her to see the black crosses and swastikas. Only four people – so far – had escaped the plane. wet hair to one side of her face. Shivering and treading water. Bang-bang-bang. closer .With the water over their heads now. jostling furiously to the surface outside. The German fighters broke away and were swooping down at them. Sims. . looked up. Sims tried to say something. She kicked and dove headfirst for the safety of the fuselage... Two. she pushed him through the window with all her might. “Ken!” 237 . and two other men. Gasping. . everybody! Dive!” she yelled. Debris bobbing everywhere. . and the line of strafing bullets peppering the water. She saw the red blinks . . she swam for him and shook him... She waited several seconds. A few feet above the water. breathless and squinting. Closer .. When she returned to the surface. her lungs feeling the pressure. . but his words vanished into the engine and gun racket. She popped up in the sunshine. then followed to get free. except to. Plunk-plunk-plunk-plunk. the bubbling spouts sped towards her. “Dive. The smell of gas and oil pinched her nostrils. Low.
Only the top few inches of the main portion of the DC-3 were left above the water line. She swam to the nearest one. forty feet away. lining up for another attack. Soon. Blood covered them both. She dove under water for the wing. riding the swells. One more. She swam for the other. the wing would be all that was left afloat. the last spasms of life in him. His nerves twitched. 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 fluttered. following the first two. Pulling herself together. in the distance. No pulse there either.. What was keeping the wing up? An air pocket inside? Then she heard the clatter behind her. she felt a terrible sting in her 238 . she glanced around for the other two. Shivering. by itself. Two fighters were skimming the water.. Two more were winding out of violent dives. A few feet short of her destination.It was no use. She vomited. She felt his wrist for a pulse. They were floating a short distance away. Bang-bang-bang. Blood and pieces of her friend’s brain – the thickness and color of thick porridge – covered his matted hair. Nothing. Bang-bang-bang. Was she the only one left alive? She saw that the wing had separated itself from the fuselage. she swung her body around. banking. The top of the agent’s head had been blown clear off. She kicked. Not again.
An oppressive taste of salt hung in her mouth. Very low. Or sink. Or both. She poked her head up. breathing strenuously. Her whole body was numb. She was spared. They didn’t see her. The engine noise carried across the water and faded to a distant buzz. she lunged her way to the wing. God. Or else they would have fired. The second line of fighters roared directly over. Bang-bang-bang. Only mere feet off the water. slipping in beside it. At last. allowing the lashing swells to rock her. 239 . She tried to spit it out. She lay there.. The wing was warm from the sun. Her right thigh was aching. Still underwater. One chunk of wing poked slightly out of the water. It was there to stay.right thigh. She spread her arms out. falling onto the wing face down. The sea water in her cuts hurt something awful. She saw blood on her right arm. Bang-bang-bang. It was no use. She had taken a shell. catching her breath. Twice. Once. Now she was getting seasick. Airsickness was bad enough. Oh. they were gone. all Harris could hear were the fighters’ engines in the distance. guns pounding in short bursts. and she tucked under it for safety. Then all was quiet.. They banked – all five – and made another pass. hanging onto the side. In every direction – nothing but miles of open water. but she shivered uncontrollably. please don’t let a bullet hit the tank. Thank God. If they hit the wing she knew it would go up in flames. She struggled to haul herself from the water. This time they didn’t shoot. For a time.
who had just arrived with some Enigma intercepts from the Russian Front. What was that about . too.” **** 240 . He folded his arms. “Thank you. Quote – WE’RE BEING ATTACKED BY ENEMY AIRCRAFT. Land. “It’s done. sir?” she asked. What were the chances? Didn’t Sims say they were at least a hundred miles from shore. to look for land. “It’s time like this that makes me want to retire early.Where was she? She tried to keep her head up.” He sighed. . ONE ENGINE ON FIRE. . looking down at his sheet.” “It’s over?” “Appears so.” He sadly put the telephone receiver down and stared at Langford.” he said. The transmission went out before they could give a position. hell.” “What do we do now?” she asked coldly. “Send an air-sea rescue to see if anything or anybody’s left. diplomatic immunity? **** MI-6 Headquarters Lampert jotted the information on a pad of paper. Nazi shore. “What. although she already knew the answer. “Whitchurch received a Morse Code signal from BOAC Flight 725. grimly. LOSING ALTITUDE.
and the navigator compartment were wide and roomy. please?” “Was the mission successful?” “I said. She was the long-range PBY.” “I hope you will sleep well tonight. “Yes. It was successful. 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. Let’s just say I’m an associate of your friend in Portugal. a sufficiently-stocked food locker. Goodbye Major Jodel.Near Nantes A bad phone line from Berlin crackled in his ear. “Major Jodel?” “Yes. Astern lay two double-decker bunks. Once-keen 241 . an electric hot plate. it appeared they had come up empty-handed. It had to be Himmler. and extra blankets for the crew’s airsea rescue work. I will sleep well. who is this?” “Berlin. Is that satisfactory enough?” “Excellent. Today. a mound of modern medical supplies.” **** Atlantic Ocean The cockpit. She was a self-contained aircraft. There was no evidence. whoever you are.” “A most unfortunate incident. the flight engineer post. Nevertheless. Who is this.” The major felt a lump in his throat.
starting from the west. ONE PERSON ABOARD. executing a bank to the right. nothing else. STATUS. I SEE IT. NORTH-NORTHEAST. SKIPPER!” “BY GOD.and intense eyes were now tired. eyeing the glint of metal through his binoculars. “PILOT TO WIRELESS. GOT THAT?” 242 .” “SEND A MESSAGE TO WHITCHURCH. “I SAY. “PILOT HERE. “YEAH. SIGHTED WHAT APPEARS TO BE THE WING OF A DOWNED DC3 IN SEARCH SECTOR FOUR. The navigator got his fix.” The pilot flicked the intercom button on his headset. they had patrolled in northto-south strips. He made one pass at five hundred feet and looked straight down. entered it in his log. and gave it to the pilot over the intercom. The sun was sinking and they were too close to France – Nazi territory. STAND BY FOR COMPLETE EVALUATION IN A FEW MINUTES. THERE’S SOMEBODY DOWN THERE. No Kraut U-Boats either. The pilot pushed on the throttles to the dual engines high on top of the wings. UNKNOWN.” he acknowledged in his headset. “STARBOARD BLISTER TO PILOT!” the sergeant in the center hatch bubble shouted over the intercom. SKIPPER. Under four-tenths cloud at ten thousand feet. There was a lot of sea.” “HERE.” “I SEE SOMETHING THREE POINTS OFF THE STARBOARD BOW!” the sergeant exclaimed. IT LOOKS LIKE THERE IS.
SKIP. Through cracked lips.” to her rescuers. Then he applied power until he was alongside the piece of metal. It’s a woman.” The pilot descended at the rate of two hundred feet per minute in a tight circle. “Thank you. She’s alive!” A second man jumped into the water. The pilot advanced the throttles and lifted off the water surface. she looked up at two men. but pumping. and swam a few feet until he found a woman in a white blouse and brown skirt. reeking of salt and oil. He came around. “Give me a hand. Voices . reduced power and speed. Her right thigh had a large bloodstain. She was face down. who were now stripped to their waists and drying themselves off. Downwind. the man knelt over the woman. Harris was conscious of men’s voices as they were handling her. Climbing aboard the floating wing.” he said. “Easy with her. She blacked out. and splashed into the water a few hundred feet from the wing. He waved for help. . Harris lay on her back. The 243 . and then came to when they gently moved her into the Catalina and wrapped two thick blankets around her chilly body. soaked through her skirt. jumped into the water. she mouthed a weak. It was weak. . her head cradled against a rolled-up blanket under her neck. he swept low on another pass. her clothing pasted to her body. He gently reached for one of her sunburned arms to check her pulse.“GOT IT. The sergeant left the hatch.
He took back the coffee and held it for her. Looks like she had a rough afternoon. “All in a day’s work. You took a bullet did you?” “Yes. She smiled and swallowed. She was flooded by a dulling warmth for the first time in hours. Sitting up. she pressed her fingers around the cup before drinking from it. The whole sickening episode filled her thoughts. and she tried to open her mouth to say more.” one man said. She accepted.” **** Tankan Bay. . “Her pulse is stronger already.blankets wrapped over her were working. and passed out from the pain in her thigh. the Kuriles lay between the Japanese mainland and Siberia.” The man smiled.” “Thank you. soon as we get into shore. a thousand miles north of Tokyo. this chain of 244 . “We’d better look after that wound you got there. thawing her out.” With tender hands. ma’am. gratefully. Then she closed her eyes . straight from a thermos. “Don’t worry. Thank you. . Japan An ocean away. “You’re safe now. But she could only utter one long sigh. he gave her a mug of hot coffee.” he said. ma’am. He checked her arm. too. Shrouded in clammy fog most of the year.” “You’re not kidding.” “Let her sleep. running his hand through his wet hair.
Two battleships. Their orders from Tokyo had been explicit. Either he would maintain his eastern course at thirteen knots. Six carriers. Nagumo’s next order would be to wait on a final coded message from Tokyo. or he would turn back to port. Eight tankers. in the pre-dawn of the 26th. American. Vice Admiral Chuichi Nagumo. . Thirty-one ships were deployed. On November 22. undetected. a Japanese Task Force had steamed into Etorufu – the largest of the Kurile Islands. cruisers. a second set of orders came. . Akagi. Two heavy cruisers. They meant business. scouting for the fleet. aboard the carrier. So there they lingered for four days. Nine destroyers. The Force weighed anchor and slipped out to sea in dense fog. the battleships protecting the rear. wintry days. 245 . Three submarines. Any Dutch. The fleet was under strict radio silence. Then . The carriers steamed in two parallel columns.fifty bleak and volcanic Pacific islands had seen snowflakes in the air for several gray. One light cruiser. and British vessels encountered along the way were to be fired on and sunk. The remaining five destroyers held a course several miles ahead. The submarines. Stand by. Ships of all other nations were to be boarded and their radios seized. and four destroyers secured the carriers’ flanks. This massive unit of men and machinery was directed by Commander in Chief of the Japanese First Air Fleet.
son. “So. Trust Company.” Donovan said. Kuhn. more invisible ink 35mm shots through a red filter of I. Sit down. – November 27 It was a cool morning in the capital when Smith and Colonel Donovan once again conferred at COI Headquarters. a Morgan bank. Silsoner’s Equitable. D.” Donovan told Smith. Read and Company. Chapman & Company to hold the paperwork. the big boys have bobbed to the surface. Filberg contracts. Dillion. turning in his chair. “National City Bank. Henry Silsoner was at the meeting. these are some of the biggest banks in the 246 . “And they’re using Kerr.CHAPTER EIGHTEEN Washington. “Three more New York firms. sir. “Nothing surprises me lately. Both owned by the Rockefellers. “Thank you. Clever.” Donovan flipped through the shots.C. too? Why am I not surprised?” Smith sat in a chair. compliments of Aris and Smith. Donovan had the photos in his hands. Aris was right.” “Me neither.” Donovan admitted. Loeb and Company. Hell.S.
At best. and forged past the steel and wire gate.” **** 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. Filberg for Hitler’s war machine. tanks. “You may proceed. The wide door was open. twenty minutes of daylight remained. . All sending millions to the Nazis through I. The crew were alongside the fuselage.” Donovan found his way to other glossy photos.” The driver put the car in gear.” he snapped to the driver. “Thank you. . at stiff attention. the sun falling on the nose of the JU-52 transport. Himmler and Eiser got out. “To help the Nazis build fighter and bomber planes. “It’s just . sir. the pilot smoking a cigarette. and who knows what else.” “The annoying thing is.world. 247 . ball bearings.S.” Donovan stared at his white textured ceiling. He steered for the second hangar on the right. we could be going to war with these people. A hundred feet opposite the door.” “I know. what they are doing is perfectly legal. and strode slowly across the concrete towards the opening.
so that she can radio Hamburg for a return flight.“Our Greenland station reported in.” 248 .” Eiser nodded. a colleague is bound to. taking the information in. lethal injection. “Good luck. Herr Reichsfuehrer.” “Very good. Himmler smiled. Herr Reichsfuehrer.” “Passwords?” “Committed to memory. Can you trust him to give you what you need?” “If he doesn’t know.” “I am at your service.” Himmler said. Herr Reichsfuehrer.” “Yes. The lot. and blazer attire marked him as a common Englishman. War Office pass. cloud later over the North Sea.” “This man in London. I was badly injured – burnt – at Dunkirk with the medical corps.” “Yes. Do you have a good alibi for him? He will want to know where you’ve been for two years. to such a degree that I needed plastic surgery on my face.” “Make sure you establish a rendezvous return with Denise once you make contact with her. this Jordan fellow. English paper and coin currency. “Do you have everything you need?” “Yes. Your next assignment awaits you. “The weather calls for clear skies. head down.” They proceeded through the hangar door. my doctor ID. Eiser. Ration book. I’ve worked on that. It’s all in the medical bag. turtleneck. Herr Reichsfuehrer. hands behind his back. His fedora. coldly. Writers have their own grapevine. Return quickly.
the Nazi invasions of Norway.” The Gestapo leader lifted his head.Himmler wondered if he was that loyal. Eiser.” They stopped under the wing of the DC-3. Due to her double-wing 249 . Himmler glanced down at the concrete. Crete.” “Spoken like a true Englishman. “Why did you have to shoot Buhle’s poodle?” “It peed on my leg. and Russia would not have been successful. “Don’t flatter me. and his conversation with Major Jodel. the JU-52 had a distinct feature that allowed her to be a valuable piece of machinery in spy operations. sir.” **** East Coast of Scotland The three-engined Junkers JU-52 transport was the most durable aircraft in the Luftwaffe aerial arsenal. “Positive. You like the money and benefits.” “Just a tad. Tell the truth.” “Oh. Herr Reichsfuehrer. Eiser.” “By the way. “One other thing. Are you absolutely positive no one in England knows my new face?” Himmler’s next thoughts fell upon the BOAC flight out of Lisbon. Tunisia. Without her.” “Yes. Although poky and bulky.
A shot of schnapps from the bottle he had in his boot helped. Schnapps helped there too. The last thing the pilot wanted was to be sent off course.” Hollinger said. The weather reports were wrong.construction of full-flaps and ailerons. He had flown in worse conditions on the Russian Front. The pilot kept an eye out for RAF fighters and Coastal Command twin-engines. Under a low ceiling. she could land and take-off in only a few feet of space. Max. he continued undaunted. Wesley Hollinger stood poised with the Secret Service men of Blue Force. Then came an unexpected fog once the transport reached the Scottish coast. Only the glow of the four fires spaced in a line twenty feet apart were visible more than three hundred yards across the field. Now cloud appeared over the North Sea. 250 . **** On the tarred road. his training ground for such missions. their two cars hidden in the bushes. opposite the grass airstrip. the sky had been clear. all armed with automatic pistols. This was going to be difficult – but not impossible – at night with radio silence. merging water and sky into one mass. When the unmarked JU-52 carrying Adam Eiser left the Hamburg airstrip at sundown. The fog had engulfed Denise. flying on dead reckoning and bare wits. Then a moderate crosswind picked up. “She’s getting worse.
. Then . The copilot nodded.“Seems so. Ahead.” “I do.” He sighed. yes.” “Sounds to me as if you know this Eiser fellow. **** Denise buttoned her coat to her neck and edged closer to one of the fires. I can’t figure out why he’s coming back. At least there was no wind. the other side was freezing. he was returning to the country of his birth. no sign of the fires. Inform Hitler of Himmler’s treachery. **** Adam Eiser peered over the cockpit seats at the orange and yellow-lit instrument panel. Badly. Confront him. Smoke?” “No thanks. return. I forgot. and to a welcoming committee of one. After a two-year absence. She turned around. Typical late November in this part of Scotland. .” answered Max Preston. “You know. . The altimeter read four hundred feet. They were losing this war. Then take care of him. And be rewarded. We . Identify him. 251 . Find the prisoner. One side of her was warm. Never took up the habit. “Still on course?” Eiser asked. England.” “Oh.” The Englishman struck a match. Poor misguided Britain. not bothering to glance back. He mulled the mission over in his mind. go back. A damp coldness had invaded the lowlands tonight. covering the flame with his hand. the man with him. Hess or no Hess. . “A real Scottish pea-souper.
” The pilot didn’t reply. Which meant they couldn’t see her. all right. **** On the ground. **** At an altitude of fifty feet. Then he banked and leveled off for final 252 . Preston stamped out his cigarette. Hollinger and Preston glanced up as a thundering silhouette made a pass overtop in the foggy darkness. Time to anti-up. the pilot made a necessary visual of the field. clear of the flight path.” Three Secret Service men stepped out from the cars in the bushes.her backside to the flame. **** The JU-52 copilot pointed to the glow.” Eiser said. She couldn’t see the Secret Service men through the ever-thickening fog. “Nice going. the length and width now imprinted on his mind. “Is that her?” “She’s a JU-52.” replied Preston. British engines didn’t sound like that. That was not good. Then she heard the rumble of engines. “That’s it. She ran for the end of the field. tugging at his fedora. He banked right to line up to the left of the fires. “I’d know that sound anywhere.
approach. running the few feet to the center of the fires. “Having the time of my life. and the holster inside his shirt that contained the instrument he called “the shaft”. 253 . The German airplane bounced to the end of the field. Eiser fell backwards on the deck.” Eiser picked himself up. The engines noise rose and the aircraft took to the air in only a few feet. Get yourself to the hatch. He looked down at his carrying bag. I’m not sticking around any longer than I have to. total silence once more. telephone wire.” “Sorry. a gold-plated ball-point pen that with one click turned into a knife with a thin. He eased the stick forward. burning away through the mist. three-inch-long blade. Heil Hitler. I am. The pilot pushed back on the column. He flew over what appeared to be a clump of trees. **** She watched the transport airplane make a perfect landing opposite the farthest of the fires. The fires were dead ahead. carrying a small piece of luggage. In seconds. He caressed the small steel acid capsules in his left blazer pocket. and spun around. Good luck. An image formed. “How are you doing back there?” the copilot asked Eiser. “Look out!” the copilot shouted. squatting down.
Pleased to meet you. We’d better douse the fires. He will notify me of your return. “I’ve booked a room for you. He removed his fedora for a moment.” “Fair enough. I know the innkeeper. “Where to?” he asked.” she said.She ran for the image.” “Heil Hitler. “I have my car waiting. It’s horrible. Your name is Floyd Hogan. calm yourself. After that. Heil Hitler. Act normal.” the woman replied. Just the way I remember Britain.” 254 . “Let’s go. she thought.” “Of course. Denise. I hope you know your way in this soup.” “Likewise. Denise?” “Yes. you’re on your own. Hurry. He placed his carrying bag by his feet. stopping short ten feet back. This way.” She tended to the flames by grabbing a shovel and digging up pieces of turf and snuffing the flames out.” “Tommie?” “At your service. Careful. Either the man was very good with an English accent or he really was English. and smoothed his hair. “Only on Sunday. I will then make the arrangements for your flight to Germany.” she insisted. Her mind was spinning. “A country inn about four miles from here. “The blackbird flies after midnight. looking across at her in the front seat.” Denise turned the ignition of the Vauxhall parked off the narrow tarred road.
The blackout headlights – only two small beams – made everything worse. his tone unfriendly. The bait to lure one more German agent. her thoughts went back to the May sub drop in daylight. She slammed on the brakes. 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 said quickly. She could not drive too fast.She laughed nervously. Now this. “I can’t see. The man in the hat and sunglasses – Rudolf Hess in her car. As she strug255 . She had driven him to Dunampton aerodrome. In a panic. Her hand went for the door knob. But the man anticipated the move. she could see Tommie’s head turning to her. She had taken the wrong road – the south road – and messed up the rendezvous. What is the matter?” She needed a comeback. The crossroad was coming up. Creeping. Slower. She turned the wheel and pulled the small black vehicle onto the bumpy road. They passed the old cemetery on the left. In an instant. her heart raced away on her. She slowed down. He grabbed her by the hair and twisted. Denise. She drove on. “Why are you slowing down?” he asked. “You are jittery. Out of the corner of her eye. She had talked with him. Then Hess escaped the base and crashlanded – shot down – near Glasgow.
**** They heard the rumble of the engine first. “Come on!” Hollinger hollered. The headlights were on. She screamed. she felt a liquid thrown against her face . **** Eiser leaped from the motorcar. he took to the grassy edge of the road. Like falling into the flames of a furnace. it burned something awful. Not to be heard. A painful. No one. Hollinger flicked on his flashlight. They saw the Vauxhall in the middle of the road. . They advanced on it. “Amateurs. stinging burn. falling to his knees. crouching low. Then the muffled scream. **** Pistols drawn. reaching for his knife. jumped a wet ditch. She couldn’t see. Hollinger – on the driver’s side – probed the inside with his light. 256 . . and stumbled across a weeded field. the engine running. After a few hundred feet. twice. Everything went black. the men ran in the direction of Denise’s piercing cry for help.gled.” Eiser uttered. and ran in the opposite direction to where Denise had been taking him. They split into two groups and walked around the front of the car. he turned to the left.
” In a fit of anger.” “True enough. Dammit all. Preston kicked the car.” 257 . I think you’re right. “Acid to the face. He’s back.” “Yeah.” “Quite so.” Hollinger agreed. “Unfortunately.” “Eiser?” asked Hollinger. And he’s starting early. Where he left off. Hollinger. “What are we waiting for? Let’s find him. Less bloody. Bloody throat. He must’ve known we had laid a trap for him.He opened the door and Denise’s body slid headfirst to the road. though.” “So it is him.” Preston grunted. Lucky bugger! I’m afraid we’ll have to wait until morning. bending over her. Mr. There’s no way of sealing off the area. It’s a different kind of cut than I remember.” “He doesn’t like much of anything. “Only one man kills like that. Preston nodded. “He has to be the luckiest man on earth!” Preston’s outburst surprised Hollinger. lately. “In this soup? We don’t have a prayer.” Preston shook his head. “The colonel won’t like this.” “But obviously still effective.
“All hell seems to be breaking loose. He was still tired from his trip up north. Thirty minutes later.” Lampert puffed on his pipe. or why he’s back.” Hollinger complied. “Yes. we don’t. Wesley. “Any word from Preston?” “Nothing! Eiser vanished. drumming his fingers on his desktop.” 258 .” he said. And on top of that he speaks an excellent English. doesn’t it?” “You’re telling me. sir. The Judge left word with his staff that he wanted to see Hollinger the minute he arrived in the building.” Hollinger sat silently. “Sit down.CHAPTER NINETEEN MI-6 Headquarters – November 28 That afternoon. “No. He knows his way around. He was steaming. We don’t know his cover. Never! He’s roaming about free somewhere and we don’t know what he looks like. And why not? This is his home turf. ready to explode. the young American appeared.” “Eiser never should have gotten away.
What’s with you and Langford?” “What do you mean?” “Getting a little chummy?” Hollinger recalled the walk with her in the park. We had her flown into London. “Guy’s Hospital?” the American asked.” Lampert hung up. Margaret. there was a new development. are you?” “Who. “Yes. Doctor.” Lampert lifted the receiver. “I dunno. Lampert flicked a switch. Line two. A woman. I suggest you get over there on the double and ask her some questions. “Hello. Colonel Lampert here. While you were gone. it is.” Lampert composed himself and stared at Hollinger. Maybe. Guy’s Hospital on the telephone. Who’s business is it?” “You’re not sweet on her.” “Right. the colonel glanced over at Hollinger.” The intercom buzzed.” “Someone actually survived?” “Yes. Margaret?” “Colonel. Don’t let your Embassy get a hold of this. Flight 725 had a survivor.” “Another thing. “MI-6 has a good source at Guy’s Hospital. “I wonder what they want?” “I’ve been expecting them. American. Thank you very much.” 259 . She refuses to give her name or say anything until she speaks to someone from her Embassy. me? I don’t like redheads.“Yes. “Yes.” “Thank you.” Listening. I will.
“Oh. Your fly’s open. her arm bandaged. devoid of makeup. sir?” “It wouldn’t be proper for you to meet her like that.” **** Guy’s Hospital Lydia Harris was resting in bed when Hollinger found her in the private ward. COI. her hair tangled. “It depends. “Good afternoon.” 260 . we want to keep this out of the papers. Her eyes were glassy. ma’am?” She brushed her hand through her hair. removing his hat. “How do you do?” “May I talk to you. faraway. “Wesley Hollinger. her face flushed.“Now. I’m sure she’s scared enough as it is.” “On what?” “Who you are?” He flashed his ID at the blonde. And it’s best they stay out of this.” “Huh? What do you mean?” “Look down.” Hollinger said.” “COI? The American spy agency?” “Not so loud.” Hollinger stood. run along. She was sitting up in her gown. wondering if this was going to be another alert for one of the knotheads tailing him. and Wesley?” “Yes.” “Then you’re not from the Embassy?” “Nope. What’s more.
But other than that I’m great. I don’t remember doing it. How the hell do you think I’m feeling? Pretty damn rotten. I flew over with an Englishman from Portugal.” “Who for?” “New York Times in Switzerland. eh? In London? What gives here?” “Let’s say I’m observing for Washington. ma’am.” She hesitated. are you?” “That’s right.” she replied reluctantly. a friend of a friend I know in Switzerland. considering I’m the only survivor of a passenger plane shot down by German fighters. “All right. I gashed my arm somehow.” “Really. May I ask why you were on the flight?” “I don’t know if I should answer that.“That so?” “Yes.” It was plain to Hollinger that she was in discomfort. “Correspondent. We’re both on the same side.” “How’re you feeling?” She coughed. what brings you overseas?” “I’m a writer. I work in collaboration with MI-6.” “Why?” “Classified. ma’am.” “Trust me.” “Yes.” “American intelligence.” 261 . “I took a cannon shell in my thigh and I was unconscious for about half a day. So. “OK.
“How do I know I can trust you?” “You can. I really don’t want to talk about the details. Everything happened so fast. We were attacked. She rolled her eyes. Miss? Mrs?” “Miss. Did you look at the negatives? What can you tell me about them?” He withdrew a notebook and pen from his coat pocket. Harris. Lydia Harris. “I . The only thing I could think of was to get out.“What’s the name?” “Who?” “The one in Portugal. glanced at them. if you please.” Hollinger felt a chill of goose bumps forming on his arms. The plane struck the water. by chance?” “Yes. The man in Switzerland wouldn’t be David Shean. . . but was shot by the fighters in the first pass. It’s just .” “Ken Sims.” “Welcome to London. that .” “That’s understandable. “Yes. .” “They went into the drink with everything else. .” 262 . . Let’s have it.” “Shit! Oh. Sims made it too. “You! So you were the one flying with him. I am. . everything’s been going wrong lately.” “You must be the courier from Zurich. Put them up to the light a couple times. excuse me.” She hesitated again.” “Sims had them in a briefcase.” “Where are the negatives? We’ve been waiting for them.” She nodded back. concentrating.
Hollinger. Miss Harris. Flight 725 had engine trouble. Was my roommate hurt?” “They never touched her. Shean said the prints were nowhere to be found.” “Those Germans don’t miss anything. right?” “Right. Harris looked at Hollinger oddly.” “What do you mean?” “Your house in Zurich was ransacked while you were away. Did the Germans shoot our plane down just for those three negatives?” “It appears so. “I can’t really say. then opened wide for the 263 . It’s hard to tell with negatives.” “Someone pretty high up the ladder had to authorize it. “And as far as you’re concerned.” “No they don’t.” “Anything at all? Any identifying features?” “A moustache.” “I want you to know that I have prints. “One last question.“Anything!” She took a breath. ma’am. Mr.” “It’s a start. Some big wheel in Berlin. yes. “We or me in particular?” she mumbled. I won’t say who. Got it?” A nurse entered the room.” “You’re telling me. “And how are we feeling today?” She held out a thermometer.” “You guys are on the ball.” Hollinger turned for the door.” He looked towards the door. that’s all I can recollect.” “Not any more.” “Dirty business.
“Speaking. Before the nurse could respond. How do I get there?” 264 . “Good idea. Scottish. “That’s a long bloody way.” “I see.” “I want to talk to Stephen Jordan. “It’s another language this side of the pond. adjusting it under her tongue. “Where’s that?” “Five miles south of Motherwell. Accent. She took it.” The voice was coarse.” Jordan had made one excursion already to that part of the country and wasn’t looking forward to another. on the road into town. “Just leaving. uneducated.” **** London Daily Telegraph “News Desk.” he said.” Jordan lowered his voice. Wait’ll you hear the Cockneys.” “I’ve something you’ll be interested in seeing. Hollinger said. sir.” The nurse glared at Hollinger.” “What in particular?” “Not over any telephone line.” “Who are you?” “A friend of Jack Buford. ma’am.stick of mercury.” “Meet me at the Orkney Inn.
black Hudson saloon. Every Scottish and English village had a pub. two stores and. He had to think of alternatives. He 265 . which he had stolen three miles from the spot he left Denise very dead. what with the rationing. Finding petrol had been even tougher. His plans had changed now. He couldn’t use her to return to Germany. his body filled with Benzedrine tablets – he considered his next move.. He looked around and saw a post office. Train to London. Denise was a trap. assuming he was still there. Boat. Hotwiring the auto had been easy. Driving it any distance – especially during daylight – was tough. Eiser ditched the fourcylinder.” **** Southern Scotland At dawn. under partial-cloud. There were no signs identifying the place. Wide-eyed – Eiser hadn’t slept for a day and a half. Fishing trawler.“Here’s the directions.. He didn’t know where he was. But he did it. Anything that could float across the Channel or North Sea. He knew how to run boats. A surprise visit with an old acquaintance. of course. Take the morning Glasgow train. arriving at the train station. He swiped a bicycle and followed a set of rail tracks into a village. All signs were removed in 1940 under the threat of a German invasion. he had to find a can and a rubber hose. a pub. First. then proceed to siphon a few gallons.
Then he strolled into the adjoining cafeteria and ordered fish and chips. “Where to. if they were still there. Sometimes overnight and weekends. He also had a friend or two at the Swiss Embassy in London. The KBA 49 registration number confirmed it.” He waved and pointed at the western horizon to the other driver. He went to the outside window beside the platform. His last meal was the previous evening in Hamburg. Undoubtedly ditched in the last half-hour. then pulled the hood up to run his fingers along the engine. Not this time. Maybe less. removing himself from the passenger seat and stepping onto the tarred road. lifted last evening from a country yard. He was starving. **** Max Preston and the two other Blue Force men found the abandoned black Hudson by a bend in the road. but he can’t hide.had owned a small yacht in Argentina. Used it to entertain his lady friends. paid his two-pounds-ten and bought a ticket for the London-bound train slated to arrive in thirty-five minutes.” Preston said. He nodded to the driver in the other MI-6 auto. “That’s the one. Warm to touch.” **** 266 . Max?” Preston looked at his driver. “He can run. “Try the village up the road.
and watched the ticket collector accept those aboard. “Are you a doctor?” one of the boys asked. including men and women in uniform with their kitbags. He felt tired. madam. as Eiser moved towards the train. my good man.” the woman said.By the time the train for London had pulled in. as a matter of fact. the station was packed with people of all ages. we surely do. Eiser dug for it. tugging at the fedora he hated. turning. black bag in hand. stood ahead of a woman and her two twin boys about thirteen.” “Yes. Eiser.” “That’s nice. “Yes.” the collector asked Eiser. The Benzedrine was wearing off.” 267 . “We always need doctors. I am.” “Ticket. “Here you are. please. especially during this time. “I have my own private practice in Liverpool.” Eiser said. “What hospital?” the woman wanted to know.
the reporter had stood in the first compartment.CHAPTER TWENTY Northern England – November 29 The Saturday morning train was busy. down the steps. Army. It seemed that everyone in England was taking the train north to Glasgow this day. reminding Jordan of a crammed cattle car. penciling in a newspaper crossword. Fathers. Standing room only. For the first one hundred miles. smelly. Once was enough to know. Daughters. A well-dressed man in a brown fedora. Near Nottingham. three seats up. Using the crowd as a cover. Air Force. Officers and ranks. Jordan darted from his seat. Sons. But by Leeds he had suspected something. and smoky. Their eyes locked once. Then he ran for it. At the next stop. several people stood to get off. and onto the concourse. 268 . Jordan played it cool. he had found his way to a seat in the rear section. would turn around every so often. Men and women in the service. a small town outside Glasgow. The body odor was the worst. Mothers. Navy.
why didn’t you go after him?” “Whatever are you talking about. Annoyed with himself. the last stop. He opened the door to outside. What gives?” “I beg your pardon. please. inches apart. “Hey. then he headed to a telephone booth.**** The train started before Wesley Hollinger realized he had lost the man in the dark-rimmed glasses. Hollinger returned to his seat. I don’t know what you were drinking. “Excuse me. sir.” Hollinger said into the receiver. but you had better have another and get a good sleep out of it. No sign of him on the concourse.” 269 . Hollinger got up and walked to the compartment’s rear. He had turned around and Jordan wasn’t there anymore. “Operator. A pause. This is ridiculous. And you’re following me.” Hollinger watched the man jump into a taxi. Oxford 9-41-2. He suddenly turned around.. poking a stiff-faced man in the ribs.” the man said. At Glasgow. He slowed down until he was one of the last in the line. dear boy?” “For the love of Mike. I was following Jordan.” “I’d like to make a call to London. And we both work for Lampert. pal. “That will be two-and-sixpence. They stopped.. he walked off with the others.
You’re not going to like this. He got the secretary. Call him off! Now! Before I notify Wild Bill that a certain organization has been spying on a representative from the White House. Margaret. . Click-click .. I want a little more respect.” “Respect?” “You know what I’m talking about.” “Where?” “Near Motherwell. do not speak another word over this line.” “Confounded man! How did you manage that?” “He got off with some others. and studied them. The phone began to ring. Would you be so kind as to get your damn tail off me?” “Wesley.Hollinger dug into his back pocket.” Hollinger waited for a response.” “Colonel? It’s Wesley. you must have had a hard day. What tail are you referring to?” “I’ve been followed for months and you know it. What do you have?” “Not much. pulled out a fistful of coins. Wesley.. “Colonel.” “Yes. . “Lampert here. He dropped the appropriate ones into the slots. are you there?” “Wesley. By the way. sir. sir.” “Where are you?” “Glasgow.” **** 270 . Then. I lost him. first.
10 Downing Street Churchill listened to the voice on his C-phone receiver in the depths of the War Room. With dark clouds approaching from the west. Nothing to it. If you say so. the owner said.” “So what! Keep up your surveillance. Jordan asked directions for the Orkney Inn. But he had to be sure. that’s all. then past the stone wall. Right there by the road. Scotland It worked. “Keep it up?” “That’s what I said. sir. He’d have to hurry. colonel. Turn right at the clump of trees and go about two or three miles. A quick exit was the only answer. “He knows.” “Yes. At a pub a block from the train stop. Take the west road out of town.” Churchill answered. Maybe no one was after him at all. A smell in the air indicated rain on the way.” **** Near Motherwell. again. Jordan borrowed the owner’s bicycle with the promise he’d return it. Piece of cake. Jordan’s legs were sore by the time he peddled off the tarred road leading into the old stone and clapboard 271 . Just don’t get caught.” “I do. Don’t stop now. Nobody followed him.
small sheep and cattle herds. Steady.” “You bet. grinding the first two gears. sir.” “How are you?” “Can’t complain. and pulled onto the road. in dirty coveralls and rubber boots.” They got into the truck. cloudy skies. and scattered buildings. A whiskered farmer about fifty. exposing the padding. except for the occasional heavy woods and bushes. lad. They squeaked loudly. He had made it. The stranger pushed the starter. but were doing the job. appraising the Londoner. This was ugly. The stranger put the wipers on. And it all looked worse under the rain and the dark. How are you?” “Don’t ask. “Yes. Jordan had never been impressed by the moors. stepped down from a dented truck and met the journalist near the door.” The stranger’s breath smelled of pipe tobacco. “Up the road. This was a farmer’s rain.Orkney Inn. In the gravel lot were a few trucks and autos. The bench seat had worn through in spots. Rain began to fall. let out the clutch. No foreseeable letup. Hop in. Ten minutes later. He pressed the accelerator of the rough-running motor. Leave the bike round the corner. “Where are we going?” Jordan asked. The truck was drafty. just in time. and in desperate need of a new muffler. chilly. A few minutes from here. It’s safe here. the 272 . desolate country. “You Stephen Jordan?” He offered his hand.
I mean.farmer braked the noisy machine to a standstill opposite a grassy field.” “Everybody here in these parts is saying the same thing. Certain people I know thought you might be interested. if you look close. Inside a zipper part of a briefcase. looking.” “Looking? Looking for what?” “Lost papers that were in the plane. this briefcase and papers?” “A few months. For weeks the Secret Service were all over here. You know. “How long has this person had .” “You bet there is. You made a pretty fair impression on someone who happens to be a good friend of mine. You can still see the plow marks. “Hess’s plane came down there. about two miles from the crash site. The gist is that the German plane had free passage.” “I will.” 273 . .” “How do you know they were looking for papers?” “I figured it out once I had a look at them.” “Tell him thanks for the vote of confidence. He said you were trustworthy.” “Jack Buford told me that too. The papers. . Him and me go back a long way.” Jordan spotted the grassy ridge through the rain. something’s fishy about that Rudolf Hess flight. The man pointed. “I know the person who found them. Jack Buford.” “You saw the papers?” The man nodded.
” A voice came on the line. I will connect you to his department. In the early afternoon. When do I get to see these papers?” The farmer reached under his seat and pulled out a leather briefcase. Just leave us out of your investigation.“Those papers could have something to do with her. pleased with his luck. looking around. “Editorial.” “Thank you. lad. You never met us or saw us.” said the newspaper operator. with a telephone number on a piece of paper.” **** London Eiser had a good night’s sleep and a hefty breakfast that morning. please. He dialed and waited. Daily Telegraph.” “Stephen Jordan?” 274 .” “What does this person want for them?” “Nothing.” Jordan stirred in his seat. 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. “Good morning. We don’t like Churchill nor the Duke of Hamilton neither. Trafalgar 3-2-2-6. lad. “It’s a deal. “Here it is. he walked to a sidewalk phone booth. “Good morning.
Dr. . . bullets punctured his cockpit. Bates. the Firth of Clyde glistened in the moonlight. date of birth . Won’t be back till Monday morning. With a war on I am a doctor twentyfour hours a day. and asked for an identity card. “Good day. “There you are. Color of eyes . thank you. He gave left rudder. sir. he was stopped by a military policeman.” “From Liverpool?” “Yes. wing. I’ll call him then.“Not here.” The man looked at the made-in-Berlin fake.” The policeman studied Eiser curiously. I have the papers. and the port engine. do you always carry your medical bag with you?” “Why. I do. Carry on. . I’m afraid. . height . What might you be doing here?” Eiser put his hand into his medical bag.” Eiser tipped his cap. if you care to see them. are you?” “Yes. sir. returning the card. “A doctor.” **** Camp Z He felt for the parachute under his seat. . Eiser remained calm. sir.” Eiser hung up. 275 . yes.” “Long way from home. “Official Red Cross work. Any message?” “No. . But when he left the booth. Suddenly. “That won’t be necessary. Over the nose.” “Incidentally.
The fighter hung motionless for a brief. He was terrified. Dungavel Castle is out there . slipping into the parachute . somewhere. Six thousand feet. Hard. . No kick in the pants. . He pulled and pulled. He pushed. The Duke of Hamilton’s castle. The turbulent slipstream stole his breath away. he tried again. He was free. He jumped. He spread his body out and pulled the chord. pushing him back again. It stalled. He reached overhead. Nothing happened. splitsecond of time.The RPM’s and pressures fell off. He swore. The briefcase was torn from his hand. A water landing was impossible at night. He shoved. his right hand on the briefcase. No flutter. He struggled. The ground came rising up to meet him. and considered Dungavel Castle. He was now on a mission of peace. Complete darkness. the other barely running. . His only way out was back to the mainland. The fighter was hanging on by a prayer. He stuck his head too far into the open slipstream. Dizzy for a moment. sliding back the cabin. He threw his gun and stiletto out the hole in the broken window. The fighter climbed and climbed. until it stood on its tail. . 276 . He knocked his head. he said to himself. one engine out. and was thrown back. The only running engine was vibrating the fighter. He heaved back on the stick to send the nose up. Straining was more like it. This is where I get out. He banked hard to port and nosed down.
Yes. Schubert was dreaming again. Farnborough. Maryhill Barracks? No. 277 . A bright light overhead.Then he woke up in his bed. It took him several moments to comprehend where he was. Farnborough. He rubbed his sweaty face.
It concerned them. in a way. while Jordan did his business into the urinal. With the papers. The American Embassy seemed the most obvious. One interview. near the elevator. then joined him at the sinks. They were the only two inside. The man followed him in. contemplating his next move. When Jordan left his office and went to the Men’s Room. One look. All it would take was one interview and he’d know. really. by the door. where Jordan washed his hands and face. he noticed a tall man leaning against the far wall. It was hard to know who to reach with the papers. “Stephen?” 278 . then again. Jordan could obtain the secrets of the prisoner. But. or whoever the prisoner was. Jordan thought it odd that the man waited inside. providing the papers were not fakes. But did they know the information already? It had nothing to do with the British.CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE London – December 1 Stephen Jordan squirmed at his newsroom desk. he could use it as leverage with the Prime Minister’s office to interview Hess.
His face was entirely different. “Hello again. Jordan still wasn’t sure.” “Good job.” “How?” “I hear you’ve been asking about Hess. . 279 . Medical mostly.” Eiser said. But the rest . “Do I know you?” “Don’t you recognize me?” Jordan thought there was something in the man’s deep voice that was vaguely familiar.” “You too? Why?” “I have my own reasons. “I need your help. A German bomb got me. . . Stephen.” “Adam Eiser. And the hair – short.” “Eiser?” Jordan was stunned. I want to know the same things you do – is he for real or not. old friend. . I don’t think so.Jordan looked over. “No . A moustache. I work for the International Red Cross. It had been two or three years since the Anglo-German Fellowship meetings. I dare say. The doctors fixed me up after my invalid release. I had my face burned during the evacuation at Dunkirk. .” “How did you know that?” “It doesn’t matter. old man.” Eiser’s tone grew low. . Like any newspaperman. He had a dark tan. “But . gray on the sides. I joined the Army. what happened? Where have you been?” “Surgery. The voice and the steel-gray eyes were the same.
I saw the prisoner from a few hundred feet away. The Prime Minister ignores my questions regarding the prisoner. Jordan phoned the Army to confirm Adam Eiser’s status with that part of the service. anyway. I suppose you have a plan?” “I do. That’s as close as I got.” **** In the afternoon.we want the truth. Where is the prisoner now?” “Mytchett Place.” Eiser said. I must know everything about this Camp Z and what kind of official identification I need to pass the gate and the checkpoints. Outside. “Where is that?” “Some old country mansion near Farnborough. you came to the right person. 1940 or 1941. I’m being tailed. That’s another thing. Perhaps. “I can’t find anything out. we can work together. they call it. “But I can’t explain here. Camp Z. I’ve been there. 280 . We have to talk.” “You are? Who?” “I don’t know. “Thanks for telling me.” Eiser smiled. What’s worse. Armed to the teeth. All the time. I know.” Jordan said. It’s a stonewall. for God’s sake. Two heads are better than one.” Jordan shook his head. Don’t be seen with me in public.” “Maybe. They’ll tail you too. There was no record of any Eiser with any branch of the Army in 1939. Interviews have been refused.
” “Come in. He knocked at room 310. What was Eiser up to? It would make for a smashing story. for fear of his home and office lines being tapped. Blasted! He couldn’t go in. looking up and down the hall. and drove to Eiser’s hotel. “Did anyone follow you?” Eiser asked. mid-autumn day. The traffic had been too congested for blocks. 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. By nightfall.This didn’t sit well with the newspaperman.” Jordan slipped Eiser a letter-sized envelope. “Here’s your permission from the British Foreign Office to speak with Hess. Now what? Try another day. with the hope of losing the shadow. taking countless turns. “I lost him. 281 . he was sure that he had. with Jordan emphasizing the secrets on how to get through the gate. containing a sheet of paper. “Official office stationary. Signed by Sir Alexander Cadogan with his office stamp.” Eiser shut the door and the two went into the plan over a bottle of brandy. At night? He didn’t wish to phone. He had to keep his wits about him. Jordan kept the papers stuffed inside his shirt. His shadow was out there and would see everything. Eiser opened. briefcase in hand. He passed the American Embassy.
“Anything else?” “Yes. of course. “An anonymous friend. in the bushes and trees. Outside. where his bedroom and study is.All you have to do is fill in your name.” “Now. I figure it’s someone close to the situation. “The armed guards are everywhere.” “Of course. The walls have ears. who wants to stay anonymous. The prisoner’s quarters have been replaced with armored glass.” Eiser opened it. The British record 282 . He broke his thigh and had it in a cast until September. but stays inside most of the time. So. The prisoner goes for walks in the gardens.” “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. “Is the signature authentic?” “A forgery.” “Excellent. then again on the first floor. Inside. he probably can’t move too fast. Typed. Another thing. Now there’re one hundred and thirty troops guarding him night and day. tell me more about this Mytchett Place. he tried some stupid suicide attempt back in June when he leaped over a rail and fell down one floor. Watch what you say. Too ruddy cold. A guard in Camp Z.” Jordan sighed. Just hope they don’t call the Foreign Office for verification. especially now. Then you are in. A damn good one.” Eiser put the envelope in his shirt pocket.” “Without that sheet they’ll turn you back.
Well. Stephen. Stephen?” “I’m a married man. My wife is expecting me.” “But I thought we were working together. I answer to a higher authority.” “Yes. It was a long shot. You know where to find me.every word. No one is to know I’m in England. They will send the guards bursting in there in seconds if they feel something isn’t quite right. I’d like to know what you find out about the prisoner. I don’t think I’ll be needing you after this. If Eiser had taken a train all the way to London. Preston on the second. They each took a floor. **** Jordan stood up.” **** 283 . Preston carefully considered what Hollinger had told him the day before. who Hollinger had already been shadowing.” “I can’t do that. then he could possibly contact one or two or more of his AngloGerman Fellowship friends. as they had suspected. Hollinger on the third.” **** Hollinger and the Blue Force team led by Max Preston entered the front lobby of the rundown four-story hotel and moved into position. One of Eiser’s associates was Stephen Jordan. But there wasn’t anything else to go on. You see. “Going so soon. I work alone.
The paragraph in the middle of the first page jolted him. Then silence. **** Hollinger crashed the door down and punched on the light. He turned to Stephen Jordan. He gathered up his hat. He ran up. . pounding on the door. and darted for the window. flicked the lights out. He ran to it and looked down the fire escape. Hollinger bent down. coat and carrying bag. crackling underneath Jordan’s shirt. He undid three buttons and saw a large manila envelope. He scanned the first page . “Jordan? Is that you? Are you in there? Jordan! Open up!” **** Eiser’s eyes went to the alley. barely making a sound. and flipped the body over. Eiser slid the blackout curtains and window up. He withdrew his gun from his holster. . His broken glasses a yard away. The window was wide open. “Jordan!” he heard from the door. He crossed the room.Hollinger heard the fight from the hall. the second page. Again. It was a trap. The briefcase beside him was empty. They were waiting for him. His hand grazed something. face down on the floor in a small pool of blood. He pulled it out and took out the contents. then a loud bang on the wall. a man’s low scream and what sounded like a struggle. His only way out. A loan for twenty million dollars! 284 .
You get one guess who’s been here.” “The front desk said he remembered the man. Could this be what Jordan drove past the American Embassy with? Footsteps in the hall startled Hollinger. we have a pretty fair description of him. Rather handsome. Max Preston ran in. He folded the envelope into fours and squeezed it into his inside coat pocket. And a tanned face. and looked down at Jordan.” “So he’s seen some sun since the surgery.” Preston said.“Son of a bitch!” he said aloud. Gray over the ears and above the neck. I had it pegged right. twirling his fedora. For the first time. Liverpool accent. Thin moustache. Light-colored eyes. Neatly trimmed. Didn’t find anything. Said he gave his name as Barrow.” said Hollinger. he thought. Same kind of mark. Hollinger glanced up to the third-floor fire escape. “Six-foot-two. “I must have just missed him. Short hair. reading from a note pad over a small flashlight. “Nothing left in the room. Gray or blue-gray. “Precisely. “Acid burns!” “Yep.” Preston and Hollinger conferred in the dark alley after questioning the desk clerk.” “He traveled light.” 285 . “And a slit throat. He couldn’t remember.” “He sure picked a dump to stay in.” “But we were late again. I checked around the alley.” Preston said. Brush cut.” Hollinger rose to his feet.
An Enigma II transmission. Who’s next?” Hollinger asked. “What the bloody-hell does Eiser want in England?” **** Hollinger returned to his flat after ten that evening. coat.“What do you think happened?” “Eiser could have squeezed some information from Jordan. Destination – Deputy Augsburg 3526/52. The typed sheets appeared official enough. He’ll undoubtedly notify MI-5. and reached behind him to the cabinet to fetch a bottle of wine and a clean glass. and plunged his sixfoot frame into the chair. 1941. Hess’s identification! Hollinger knew that much from the beginning of the year. then eliminated him so he couldn’t identify him. He sat up. he didn’t feel the least bit remorseful about taking the papers from Jordan’s body. Between them and us. and poured a drink. dated May 9. He flung his hat. I’ll ring Lampert and give him the update. He was tired. but his mind was functioning clearly. Rolling up his sleeves. He took a sip of wine. we’ll turn London upside-down. 286 .” He paused. The Falcon File. he cracked his knuckles. Point of origin – a German by the last name of Bremmel.” “Like he did with Denise. Given the conditions. “I wonder. and jacket on the sofa. He loosened his tie. He opened to page two of the papers he had found on Jordan.
I. Each German factory. had been receiving loans from several American banks to the tune of millions of dollars in order to finance their war factories. Here it was. The transmission had been sent to Hess. His blood was up.The pages were based on information that Bremmel had received in confidence from the firm that had employed him. So why not a possible NaziAmerican alliance? Hess too had a plan when he left Augsburg that day. that was possible.S. Filberg. Hell. all laid out in detail. Had someone been feeding him these documents. Incredible. Found near the crash site. Nazi war factories! Hollinger read on. Any idiot could figure it out. Why not? Had Hess brought these with him on his peace mission? Yeah. The significance of the information was brought home to him. the atomic weapons. the jet aircraft. yeah. how did Jordan come by them? He had made two trips to Scotland. Filberg. 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. May 10. When the loans were signed. He had warned the British of the death camps. Now. Hell. One of those not far from Glasgow. Each bank. an agenda of defection and forewarning. it seemed. His home – America. Wesley. or were they found near the crash site? Someone in Great Britain had been holding the information. there was a possibility. Think. Hollinger closed his eyes. Hollinger took a bigger sip of wine. 287 .
Had Hess received the information the day before he had left Augsburg? Amazing. This had to be a bad dream. Of course. like it or not. The Falcon File. and a third glass. And he didn’t stop there. . piecing it all together. Desperately. considering the possibilities. Then it came to him. 288 . His stomach was in knots. May 9. . The Falcon File would provide the answer. But how would he get into it? He swallowed the wine in his glass and filled it again.Now Washington was brought into this. He consumed a second . Then he had his answer. Hollinger put his head in his hands. He was suddenly – unexpectedly – mentally and physically exhausted. Hollinger picked the papers up and pressed them in his hand. he dredged his own subconscious for answers.
and poured the black dye into his hair. The sun would rise soon and he had to be out of the guesthouse before the others woke. and left the house as quietly as he could.CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO London – December 2 Eiser had slept badly. He did a good job too. Jason Bates on the government document given to him by Jordan. to find if he’d have an allergic reaction to the chemicals. He knew he had no time to try a patch test. He let the dye set. He washed his hair to remove the coloring from the scalp. It was evenly centered. the way most people did. Then he threw on his trousers. Eiser slipped the plastic gloves on over the cracked sink. and blazer. took the bottle in his right hand. He had to work quickly. and swallowed a Benzedrine. He washed up. fresh turtleneck sweater. carefully shaved his moustache off. massaging it in with his hands as he went. 289 . He closed the door to the lavatory and stripped to his undershorts and socks. It was a good thing he had used the landlady’s typewriter the evening before to tap Dr. and cleaned the mess in the sink.
Probably her only one in London right now. We’ve booked a New York bound Clipper flight for you this afternoon. A plane in London will fly you there.” “What are you doing here?” “I’ve come to escort you to the London airport.” She leaned closer and dropped her voice. . Ten minutes later.**** Hollinger checked in at the second floor of Guys Hospital. “Hi there. “Yes. Her leg still seemed to be giving her some pain. ma’am. But she was moving around. sir. He sat on a nearby bench and browsed through the city’s tabloid. “Is that the other part of the deal?” He took her away a few feet. “Are you a relative?” “A friend. Hollinger. She walked towards him. politely.” “I don’t have any choice in the matter. ma’am. a small piece of luggage in her hand. out of Whitchurch. actually. In the waiting area was a man in a leg cast.” “You seem . chipper. smiling. “How’s the leg?” 290 . do I?” He shook his head.” “Thank you. Hollinger got up and removed his hat.” “Hi there yourself. Another man was steadying himself on crutches. ma’am. “In a few minutes. .” He eyed his watch. Mr. Miss Harris.” Hollinger said. the London Times. I’m afraid so. she appeared down the hall. “Miss Harris will be out straightaway.” Hollinger answered the ward nurse politely.
” She did a quick twirl. she seemed to have recovered miraculously from her injuries.” “This is probably the worst area. But I can walk on it.” she uttered. the bombed-out buildings. the craters. The arm’s fine. She had makeup on. The MG was not new by any means. A light green. across the city. tossing her hair with her hand. boldly. It had a powerful well-tuned motor. “Geez.” he said. “See?” “Great. Come on.” “Not a pleasing picture. it’s not. Gosh! She was really quite pretty.” This was the writer’s first ride in a cramped English sports car. Lead the way.” She raised her hand. “Charmer. the cracked pavement. 291 .” He smiled. A Betty Grable type. “Don’t you look smashing. and took her down the elevator. **** The drive through the London war zone in the drafty top-up MG convertible obviously depressed her.“Sore. “What do you think?” Hollinger looked at the new dress the MI-6 had purchased for her. is it?” “No. “I didn’t realize it was like this. Structures not damaged by German bombs were reinforced by sandbags. reached for her new suitcase. Too pretty. In less than a week. but functional. it looked great on her. Twenty thousand Londoners have died so far.
The new clothes and everything. Long.Hollinger drove it fast. and retrieved her luggage from the back.” “Sorry. I have to get back.” “Well. “Slow down.” “I’m sorry things couldn’t have worked out better for you.” “I am. 292 . I want to live. “Thank you.” He let off the pedal. The pilot was waiting outside the machine. Either here in Europe or the Pacific. we will. “OK. naturally. “Yeah. “You’re welcome.” “Do you think we’ll get into this war?” she asked him bluntly. making several pedestrians gawk. will you.” Hollinger shook hands with her.” They reached the airport and Hollinger braked in front of the twin-engined Avro Anson on the tarmac.” She shrugged. He squealed the tires around one corner.” “You seem confident of that. Some day. Hollinger opened the car door for Harris.” she said. What are you going to do when you return to the States?” “Ask for another assignment. Sort of. weaving in and out of traffic. “I’m in a bit of a hurry. aren’t I? Thanks for your help. “I’m alive.” she answered.
Jordan had told him. trying not to be noticed. He had to take the back roads. The guard leaned over. Maybe we’ll see each other again some time. The toughest. sir. She doubted that she would ever lay eyes on him again. Bates. It was the first of two checkpoints at Mytchett. He could feel his second Benzedrine kicking in with a punch.” She looked at him strangely. holding his palm up.” “Papers.” “Yes. And he had to conserve the siphoned fuel in the tank. A private auto was a rare sight in the wartime British countryside. maybe. his breath steaming in the cool air. What might I do for you?” “My name is Dr. He rolled the window down. An armed guard stopped him.“Good luck. he was on his way. please. **** 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.” “The nature of your business?” “To see the prisoner. I’ve come on behalf of the International Red Cross.” she said. and evaluate his medical condition.” 293 . “Yes. Once past here. sir. “Yeah. He had taken his time driving.
white blouse.” He closed the door behind him. Eiser heaved a sigh deep inside. Jason Bates?” “Yes. The guard scanned them for several seconds. She was wearing an attractive outfit – blue jacket.” Eiser showed him the three Berlin phonies – driver’s licence.” The guard pursed his lips. ID card.” Then she thought twice on what she had said. matching blue shirt.” The guard returned everything. “Thank you. “Dr.Eiser dug into his medical bag for the credentials – the Red Cross and British Foreign Office verification. the stamp.” **** MI-6 Headquarters Hollinger found Langford standing by the window. “And where were you?” She turned around and blinked once. and pushed a note at her. “I had the morning off. The guard closely examined the forged signature of Sir Alexander Cadogan on the latter sheet. and the War Office pass. and birth certificate. smoking a cigarette. He was her boss. You may proceed. “Do you have any identification?” “Yes. 294 . and the Red Cross paper. She was there for him. “Very well. Park on the left. “What concern of that is yours? I’m not at your beck and call.
“I have something to show you. . in Berlin . . “Where did you get it?” “A long story.” “Wunderbar. You have that look in your eye. to Deputy Augsburg . . . Hess!” He nodded. May 9. then we did have prior knowledge. “I know.” He handed her the contents of a manila envelope.” “Yes. the Germans?” She looked up. I remember. her voice cracking. .” “There’s one way of checking this out to see if it’s on the level. It would have come through Bletchley. Her trained eye scanned the material in a flash. No time to go into it.” She seemed to foresee what was coming. I’ve seen it before. “No. We’re safe. I was in London. .” “I need your help. then Hess might have been trying to warn us of an agreement between American bankers and German war factories. See the date?” “Yes. Here.She read: Is the room bugged? “Well?” She shook her head. but is it genuine? It could be a fake. my.” “OK. Hess. If we received it at Bletchley. indeed. Get a load of this. Tell me what you make of it.” “You’d know the answer to that one. “American bank loans to .” She took papers from Hollinger’s outstretched hand. If that’s the case. Falcon File transmission from the Bremmel .” 295 .” “I was off that day in May.” “Oh. . . “Yes.
” She shook her head.” Hollinger put the papers into the envelope. Let’s try. “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.” “Yes. And chances are Churchill and Lampert know about it.Langford stood up and came around the front of her desk. You have access to the room. as usual. And there might not be anything there.” “We just won’t get caught. I don’t.” “Only if there’s another copy in the file room. I don’t know if I have one for that one. someone could have destroyed them.” “Worse. but. then it was part of Hess’s package. “We’d need permission from Lampert. and are keeping it under wraps. that’s all.” she argued. “I don’t like this. You’d be sent back to Washington.” “Some of the locks could be the same.” 296 .” “Now all we have to do is confirm this. “Except.” “Why?” “To use it against somebody – us – at the opportune time. I’d be thrown out of the Secret Service for good. If unauthorized people were caught in there. Her shoes were off. Blacklisted forever. But we have to find out. we’re—” “Up the creek without a paddle. Got a key?” “I have a number of keys for the different rooms. the Hess intercepts are under the Confidential section.
“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
. putting him in the hospital for weeks. The signal. old boy. Preston nodded. First.” “I’m not terribly fond of that one. “You refuse to cooperate – we kill you. . You stabbed one. The others stood around. The bound man was pushed to his knees in the soft earth. you can work for us and feed information back to Germany – information that we tell you to send.” “I was one of the three agents who came to arrest you. And you threw acid on another. about . forming a circle of men and steamy breath. Preston cleared his throat. “Now do you remember?” “So?” Eiser was unmoved. his face bruised. you’re considered too dangerous. glancing up. No trial. staring coldly at the German spy. August. He had survived a vicious interrogation in which he hadn’t cracked. “Should I?” answered Adam Eiser. . 1939 ring a bell?” “Not especially. He looked up at Preston. and dragged him into a nearby meadow. “I’ve been informed by MI-6 to give you your options. “Remember me?” Preston asked. Me. What’s the second option?” Preston checked the gun chamber of his pistol.” Preston pointed to his chest. “Does London . Frankly. extracting his gun from his holster.yanked out a man whose hands were bound.” 314 . . The two men in the first car – one of them Max Preston – followed seconds behind.
before your own mid-range commanders do. Herr Eiser. Eiser. . navy. Amateurs? I think not. if you must. “I’ll let you in on a little secret. my Deutschland. Such a . can’t do.” Preston replied. He examined Eiser’s face for a hint of repentance. wiping his cheek with a handkerchief. “Schweinehund!” “I know my German. didn’t we?” “Mere luck. our Intelligence has been intercepting all of Germany’s military signals.” “We caught you. We know what your army.” “I will. low groan as he fell sideways.” Preston sighed. 315 . “Deutschland. For you. “It’s not nice to call me a dirty pig. Eiser let out a wretched.” “I regret nothing.” He spit in the Englishman’s face. Do what you have to do. the war is over.” “Amateurs. For over a year now. pathetic waste.’’ “Sieg Heil!” “Poor man.” “Sorry. How touching.” “Too bad. “Where did you go wrong? An Englishman?” Eiser showed no concern.“I’ll take neither. .” Preston smiled. and air force are going to do in advance. controlling his anger.” Preston rammed the muzzle at the back of Eiser’s neck and fired once. There wasn’t any.
**** 316 . He didn’t enjoy killing people.” Preston said. However.” “Bring it in at once. He wasn’t going to mark this in his date book. upon his return. Herr Reichsfuehrer. He crumpled the paper into a ball and threw it across the room. **** Gestapo Headquarters Heinrich Himmler answered his intercom. So much for keeping an eye on the poodlekiller. The Gestapo leader cut at it with his gold-plated letter opener.“Bon voyage. Eiser.” The adjutant entered Himmler’s office. a courier arrived with a decoded message from Hamburg. He adjusted his pince-nez. left the sealed envelope on his desk. watching the blood flow onto the ground. Eiser was the exception. So much for becoming the Fuehrermaster. “Yes?” “Herr Reichsfuehrer.” “Yawohl. 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. For now. and departed. It’s for you.
The Japanese Task Force had been on the open sea for a week. in Hawaii. still undetected. CLIMB MOUNT NIITAKA It was confirmed. Tokyo time. Navy ships. when the coded message came over the wireless. December 7.S. at dawn. and the Army and Navy airfields as planned. There was no turning back now. 317 . Vice Admiral Chuichi Nagumo was to proceed southeast and attack the U. December 8.Pacific Ocean They crossed the international dateline.
Scheduled North Atlantic winter crossings were always terrifying at best with the Ferry Command aircraft overloaded with men and gasoline. thick gloves. with icy conditions. a parachute and life vest. The accommodations were cramped. It would be no milk run. But it was still the quickest route to Washington.CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR Prestwick. knowing damn well that he wouldn’t stand a fiddler’s chance if the aircraft had the misfortune of going down over the 318 . a fleeced flying suit. with snowflakes in the air that melted once they touched ground. 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. Scotland – December 5 Landlubber Wesley Hollinger decided to accept the risks as par for the course. At two in the morning. The buffeting westerly headwinds were often raw. He was weighed down like the others with a winter-issue parka. gusting to one hundred miles per hour.
Climb and dive. The flight would take approximately sixteen hours from Prestwick to Dorval. Therefore.ocean. and crash against the fuselage. There. so much ice formed inside one engine that it quit temporarily. Quebec. Hollinger had deciphered the pilot’s strategy. but later came back to life at sea level. 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. 319 . the ice would come sliding off the wing. Two hours into the unforgiving Atlantic airstream. The North Atlantic headwinds were the strongest at sea level. where the wing would ice up. the pilot had to climb to thinner air.000 miles of nervewracking boredom. lit by the moonlight. the hum of the engines eventually dropped Hollinger off to sleep. This flight did not sit well with him. over 2. Rescue missions were out of the question. Heavy on his mind were the two Dorval-bound BOAC B24’s that had crashed into the Scottish hills in August. through the cracks in the bomb bay. both minutes out of Prestwick and only four days apart. to conserve fuel. forcing him to dive for sea level. Forty-four in total had died. It was deathly dark. The B-24 took off and climbed into the scattered cloud. assuming anyone would ever receive the radio signal in the first place. Too bad he couldn’t do a crossword. Hollinger could see the ground off and on. Fortunately. On one occasion. instantly.
Then one engine quit. The exposed flesh on his face was freezing. And number four was leaking oil to boot. Hollinger flicked his eyes open. They went into another dive. Huddled under a thick blanket.He woke up. his body a block of ice. 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. Only daylight between the Liberator and the vast expanse of water. But this time the engine didn’t start. He still had several hours to go. This far north in December. **** 320 . He knew something sounded different. He couldn’t tell how far away the white caps were. He began to doze off. How long had he been out? He didn’t know. British mechanics determined that the B-24’s number two engine had an electrical short. A few thousand feet. He started to perspire. the sunlight wouldn’t last long. for sure. It needed parts. He was going to catch his death of cold by the time the aircraft landed. **** Kaflavik. He turned away. Hollinger saw the ocean below through the crack by his face.
the latest decoded Japanese message sent from Tokyo to its Washington Embassy. That day. Perhaps by Sunday or Monday. the carriers. The big prizes. Yet. Heinemann squatted in the weeds and wrote down his assessment of Pearl Harbor and the sought-after Battleship Row. However. But no Enterprise. At least an outside chance. Not now. All 4 carriers at sea. 3 cruisers. The Hornet and Yorktown had not been heard from for days. It was a long-winded thirteen-part communiqué that the Ambassador was told not to deliver to the Americans 321 . All four of them. the Lexington steamed out. two returning the day before.Pearl Harbor. 17 destroyers. 3 submarine tenders. 3 destroyers. In dock: 4 cruisers. a sealed envelope was delivered to President Roosevelt. the cruiser escort attached to the Enterprise had returned after being out of harbor for a week. Hawaii Edgar Heinemann adjusted the focus range on his binoculars and looked over the waterway from Aiea Heights. Whereabouts unknown. they probably wouldn’t return. **** The White House – December 6 At 0930 hours. With the weekend coming on. Five of the battleships had remained in port for a week. were gone. accompanied by five heavy cruisers. Ships at anchor at 1800 hours: 9 battleships.
The US forces in Hawaii had received and acted upon two alerts. and said to Hopkins. cleared the bile in his throat. One part – the fourteenth point – was held back until further notice.” 322 . The Japanese were riled. The President turned. Then the deadline was extended another four days. one specifically against sabotage.until specified by Tokyo. President. Harry. Roosevelt knew it was all coming to a head. “I don’t like it. what do you make of it?” Hopkins only sighed. put the thirteen-part message down.” “Neither do I. “Harry. American codebreakers had been receiving and decoding Japanese messages depicting their dissatisfaction with Washington. 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. Mr. The President wondered aloud what was in the fourteenth part as he turned to his adviser. on December 2. the American code-breakers had intercepted a message from Tokyo to their Embassy in Washington. They were ordered to wait until the 25th for a reply. The US Ambassador in Tokyo had been warning Washington for months of an armed conflict somewhere in the Pacific. Not at all. ordering Nomura and Kurusu to destroy their codebooks. Harry Hopkins. Then.
“Edgar Heinemann?” The German spun around to see two tall men in suits. “What’s the charge then?” They both drew guns.” “Is it against the law to watch the Harbor?” “No. focusing on the sudden incoming flight of aircraft.” he said. “You are under arrest. the leader of the attack. “Treason. Japanese.” one of them said. radioed Admiral Nagumo at sea. Tora!” 323 . . Tora.” **** Within sight of Pearl Harbor. The bright red-ball markings on the wings told him they were none other than . Commander Mitsuo Fichida. Now. .CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE Pearl Harbor Edgar Heinemann stood in the weeds on the hillside across the Harbor. not ten feet away. Here they come. coolly. “Tora. “Yes. Come with us.
The second wave of one hundred and eighty-three aircraft was halfway to Oahu. alive with people who had just arrived from other flights. flung him into the black Mr. Within two minutes. the waterspouts . The Japanese Blitzkrieg was on.” Hollinger slapped his briefcase. “Colonel. He watched as the low-flying fighters beat a path to Battleship Row. . . the bomb explosions . the first wave dive-bombers dove for the ships on and around Battleship Row. The word repeated three times signified to Nagumo that his aircraft had caught the American Fleet by complete surprise. you’ll never believe what I have in here. How did they catch him so soon? **** Bolling Air Force Base It was early afternoon in Washington. . the black smoke. Hollinger picked out the round face of Colonel Bill Donovan inside the noisy. **** Edgar Heinemann saw it as the two men handcuffed him. crowded air terminal. . He saw the ack-ack puffs from the American gunners . .Tora meant Tiger. as the fighters targeted the nearby airfields. “What’s up. . and drove away. Kid? I knew it had to be important when you used our private code. He could feel the concussion of the hits on the ships.” 324 .
“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.
he coaches a local fastball team. Wyatt enjoys collecting Detroit Tigers memorabilia. Wyatt’s other published works include aviation magazine articles in Canada and the United States. In the summer months. Erin. 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. Canada in 1984. thirty miles outside Toronto. He now resides with his wife and two children in Burlington. Ontario. A big baseball fan. This was followed up in 1986 by Maximum Effort with the same publisher. The Mary Jane Mission came out two years later. Wyatt made the switch to historical fiction with The Last Flight of the Arrow. a techno-thriller set during the Cold War years of the late 1950’s. In 1990. 355 . Ontario. 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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