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