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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
Considering the shaky world position.his old friend. he was hoping that the work was not in vain. That was a good sign. He took two trips to England in 1940. sir?” 18 . the experts in counterespionage on English territory. “Somebody is going to get their war soon. and the MI-6 Secret Intelligence Service. which gave him the ammunition he needed to model an American intelligence agency after the British. Wesley Hollinger was a product of that system.” The American spy agency – the COI for short – was officially up and running. who specialized in foreign espionage. Democrat President Franklin Delano Roosevelt. He studied MI-5. obtaining intelligence information that would someday be useful to his country. He discovered that the two departments’ paths crossed on occasion. Only two weeks earlier the President appointed Colonel Donovan to head a new federal intelligence agency designated “The Office of the Coordinator of Information. The Irishman had conferred with various heads of state and prominent people. That meant cooperation. Donovan threw Hollinger a sideways glance. it could not have come any sooner for a handful of Americans and Brits in-the-know. Wild Bill began structuring a top-secret federal organization. He farmed them out to observe and report. He recruited individuals. By mid-1941. With Roosevelt’s blessings.” “Why do you say that. Closing the newspaper.
sir. People who stand to make a lot of money if we go to war. Certain people. you’re still young yet.” Hollinger mumbled.” Hollinger felt uneasy.” “Yes. that’s who. And they always get what they want. are you telling me that–” “I’ve said enough. And idealistic.” The light turned red.” “Thank God for Hitler. thinking of the telephone conversation he had that morning with Aris. Hollinger slowed the Packard down at the light ahead. shit!” “Damn it! Watch it. that’s why. and Hollinger nearly slammed into the car in front of him. The White House. “What was that?” “Nothing. and turned at the street sign marked Pennsylvania Avenue. “Who’s higher than the President?” “Wesley. He looked ahead. Wesley!” Hollinger shot a glance at his boss. He couldn’t believe he was doing this. he saw it. “Roosevelt supporters. Take a right at the next block. sir. In the distance.“Because some high-ups want it. “Nope. “Sir.” “You mean the President and his staff?” Donovan shook his head. “Oh.” the colonel replied. If only that cheeky redhead were here to see him. Higher than that. **** 19 . his former secretary at his Wall Street lawyer’s office.
Ours. I can. colonel?” 20 .” “If he doesn’t bite. sir. Margaret. sir. sir. I should expect. It was not in his best interests to keep Winston Churchill waiting on his Whitehall 4433 private line.” “Let’s go on scramble. Washington time.” Lampert punched a white button on the side of the C-phone attached to a two-by-two-foot square box by his feet. He made it safe and sound last evening.” “Jolly good. we’re done for. “Yes.” “Thank you. anxious for a reply. the Prime Minister is on the line. What do you think he’ll say. You left word for me?” The Prime Minister’s familiar lisp was clipped.” MI-6 officer Colonel Raymond Lampert quickly lit his pipe and lifted the Cphone receiver. sir?” “Yes.MI-6 Headquarters. and will be briefing the President at tenthirty.” “Yes.” “There’s a good lot resting on our errand boy. But can the Kid do it how we want him to do it?” “Second thoughts. and peered into the room. I did. A cable was forwarded to me just a few minutes ago from the Kid. He’s there for one purpose. London The secretary finger-tapped on the office door. “Can you hear me. “Colonel. Any additional cables will be forwarded to your office.” “Very good. “Yes. colonel.” “As long as the Big Fish in Washington buys it. sir?” “What we told him to say.
mustering as much enthusiasm as he could. sir.” “Yes. Lampert doodled on his foolscap pad.” Lampert said. colonel. isn’t that what he rather is. Stop Hitler.” “Let me know the minute you hear from your Portugal agent.” Lampert hesitated. “Anything else. before he left?” “Up to more mischief.“Perhaps. “Wesley Hollinger.” “We’ll let the bloke think he’s a hero.” Taking a ballpoint pen. We’ve made the arrangements for the Atlantic meeting. Whoever would have believed it a few months ago? May the angels in heaven help us. sir.” “Certainly.” “I have an update. sir.” “Already? Good show. It’s on. A hero?” “Yes.” 21 .” “It is his office.” “Yes. while I have you on the line? How’s Operation Decoy coming along?” “Not a word. but—” “Never mind. now that you mention it. was he?” “He put NO SMOKING signs in his new office. sir. The end justifies the means. sir. as yet. Do you know what he did. colonel. I suppose he is. “Remember our goal. Did you receive the copy of the report I sent to the President?” “Yes. sir. He seems gullible enough. About an hour ago.” “In any event.
” “Fine.” “Of course.” 22 .” Lampert’s secretary knocked at the door. sir. sir. “Just a minute. Lampert waved her over. “I think we just got our answer from Portugal. “Sir.” She showed the package to him.” Lampert said. a sealed envelope has just arrived from the code room. Get it over with now.” he said into the Cphone. “Yes. Margaret?” “Colonel. sir.“What about Camp Z?” “I’ll be out the door in minutes.
across the creaky dock. when the water was the calmest. heavy. I will. “Yeah.” “Tell that to my stomach.CHAPTER TWO Firth of Forth. Sweating. Scotland Two husky men struggled with the long. The Firth of Forth was a windy waterway off the western slant of the North Sea. filled by hard-working fishermen during the less turbulent hours – in the morning. the waves were choppy. wooden crate. Then they ordered the whiskered fisherman on a north by northeast course. one of the men gripped the starboard rail and vomited over the side. Why do we have to go so damn far out?” “Still too shallow here. Now. they hauled it from the motorcar. Chin up. to the edge of the water line and aboard the small boat. anyway?” “Orders. It was a rough ride. midafternoon. We need to go another mile or more. “Are you going to make it?” the other man asked. Who’s going to look out here. Three miles from shore.” 23 .
a decade older than her. England Langford removed her reading glasses and sniffed. Then she set her tea down and thought for a moment. A dignified clerk. a young face under twenty-five stuck in with the “elite old farts. And Lampert and the Prime Minister too. The stale food. unforgiving water. Scott.“I’ll try.” The fisherman steered into the brisk northerly wind. **** Bletchley Park. She had picked up a summer cold from somewhere. The two passengers bent over the crate and picked it up. She told herself that she didn’t mind these last three weeks too much. With grunts. Jansen. “So long. She sat on her desk. The secrecy between huts. and a few minutes later killed the throttle. six days a week. She was back. Ellis. lapping a series of waves against the hull. Now she was 24 . Green. She forgot how much she disliked the place the first time around. Kraut. laughing at her situation. sipping her tea. they heaved it into the cold. Murphy. The crate bubbled and sank instantly. For King and Country. and was a little under the weather. They were mostly innocent old men. She was a desk soldier at her post.” the sick man said. The twelve-hour shifts.” as Hollinger had often referred to them. Boley. She had slipped into the old routine at the Secret Service cipher school. And married.
So far. Stacked on her desk were the messages from the girls in the nearby Decoding Room hut. Since choosing her profession. Langford hardly looked back. She didn’t have to drive an ambulance and pull mutilated bodies out of rubble. And fascinating. Different messages. Not many women in Britain had a wartime job as interesting – at least on the surface – as hers. and the other branches of the service. Like a sabbatical. It was another part of the radio war that saw her organization processing over eight million enemy words every month. the Ultra experts – the distributors of the traffic. She didn’t have to teach bratty kids. With her reading glasses in place. Not a bad job. waiting on her boss – Hollinger – to return to Great Britain in a few more days. as her girlfriend had done during the dreadful London Blitz the past winter. she tried to tell herself. Roberta Langford flipped her shoes off and lit a Player’s cigarette. this. Eighty-four for her eyes today. Next. or toil on an assembly line. the Navy. of which she was one – would take over and separate the correspondence for the Army. Alerting the Soviets and passing the German military codes on to them was forbidden. she took pleasure in heading off the Nazi military and High Command dispatches. The Russians couldn’t be trusted to keep the source 25 . Different hut. Different people. Although tedious. she leafed through the deciphered Enigma intercepts that had come through fairly steady from the Russian Front. Like a game.here only temporarily. It was different this time. Enigma II had six of low priority.
The Enigma orders in the deciphered messages spoke of lightning movements. Every area encountered a new set of rules. Lake Ilmen was only 100 miles from Leningrad. Let Lampert know of anything in the high-priority class. a prime objective for the Germans. And the next day. He’d be getting some dispatches today.secret. Today. and glorious victories. and on the Atlantic U-boats. Screen and catalogue for the departments. The cryptographers at Bletchley always had to keep in mind that the Germans had many variations of their high-grade cipher traffic. the German Wehrmacht forces had slashed deep into the Soviet Union. They were getting severely whipped by superior German forces and their newfangled machinery. without question. in the north country. To be sure. major and minor sieges. And the next. the German Sixteenth Army had already reached the south side of Lake Ilmen. Roberta Langford would follow the directives. They couldn’t do anything anyway. At the rate they were advancing. Langford shot a glance over her shoulder to a map of Russia she kept on the wall. Her job was to chaperone only. 26 . 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. In the five weeks since their synchronized Operation Barbarossa ground and air attack. Some meteorological reports – six – had come through today. She nodded. the Sixteenth Army would push on tomorrow.
go on in.” he said.” “Got a cable for you. they had the codebooks for reference. He had telephoned a few minutes before. Stolen. She heard two people in the hall. thank you. my dear.” “Thank you. “I’m looking for Roberta Langford.. “Ah. L for clear. “Hello.. Spencer. deer-like eyes to see the freckled face and the thick round glasses of Spencer Winslow from the Enigma II Hut Nine.” “Yes.” 27 . Blue tobacco smoke enclosed her like a fog. . Lucky for Bletchley. From Washington. What brings you here this hour of the day?” She sniffed. Your Yank boss man. of course. “How’s the cold?” “Better. except by phone or memo first. The Germans changed letters weekly. K for cloud . “You don’t say. there you are. keeping in mind that inter-office contact was forbidden. .” She puffed on her cigarette. I should think. . Caught you before the shift change. This week . looking about. A female voice answered. “And you are?” “Spencer Winslow.” Langford looked over her glasses through brown. Simple enough codes. once broken. .using single letters for various conditions.” a male voice asked.
” He slapped the sealed envelope in his hand.” They smiled at each other. The Prime Minister favored Former Naval Person for himself when communicating 28 . Churchill was no better. SAY HELLO TO THE JUDGE. WISH YOU WERE HERE. With this kind of incompetence. his old stomping grounds. What a way to run a war.” “We’ve never even so much as gone out. “Now I’ll take that. he saw. TOODELOO. She was Redhead.“They delivered it to the wrong hut. What a tease.” “That’s simply terrible. for he thrived on his codenames. Langford knew. “Don’t pull my leg. He felt comfortable now in his surroundings. Langford smiled at Hollinger’s silly humor.” she told him. this exclusive club. MEETING POTUS FOR COFFEE. THE KID. He left and she opened the cable. HEY REDHEAD. Lampert was the Judge or Your Honor. Churchill was the Big Guy. Then again. “Right you are. shaking his head. we’ll lose for sure. Enigma II transmissions were recently christened the Falcon File.” “So. He came.” “I don’t know what you see in that fellow. he conquered. if you don’t mind. It made sense.” “I don’t see anything. Falcon was the Deputy Fuehrer’s codename. there’s other fish in the sea?” She laughed low and husky. And it didn’t end there. “Hut Nine.” She held out her pearl-smooth hand. The fast-talking American had a nickname for everybody.
Too dreary. Not the way she had been with Arthur.with Roosevelt. She wondered how well Hollinger was performing on his trip to the White House. but rather nice at times. the RAF fighter pilot from Liverpool. He knew her status since Arthur had dropped her. Spencer Winslow had always enjoyed her company. She was fond of Hollinger. She took a long pull of her cigarette and 29 . Although she always backed off. One of the few at Bletchley. So many to pick from. when he wanted to be. At least with Hollinger there was never a dull moment. Love? Good Lord. Neither was she steadfastly in love with her new friend. Not really. But she was in no hurry. no! At least she didn’t think so. Hollinger’s “Mission of Persuasion” to Washington. Alex Nevin. Roosevelt used POTUS – President of the United States – whenever he cabled Churchill over the London-Washington Hotline. although she was leaving the back door open all the same. She tried to tell herself she was not in love with him. Nicknames and codenames were getting to be a habit in this line of work. But he wasn’t her type. What would they do when he returned? She still couldn’t quite see herself with Hollinger. he was still trying. Suitors everywhere. and he had tried to move in on her a couple of times. He definitely had a good side to him. the bloke with the ego. He was a cocky young man. He was also the one who came up with Operation Urge. Not with the man who hardly ever took things seriously. Sometimes he was even honestly sincere. He was single. Not to be left out.
England Lampert steered his mud-covered Austin to the gate at Mytchett Place. Only a handful would even guess he was an impostor. Lampert checked in with the armed guard and drove ahead to the gravel parking space alongside the driveway. the sinister. This was Camp Z. unkempt gardens full of rhododendrons. 30 . under close surveillance. Three hundred feet up. Damn this cold! **** Farnborough. The German was now referred to as Prisoner Z. She sniffed and wiped her nose with a tissue. Lampert could see the German prisoner walking the gardens this late afternoon. as well as colorful. eighteenth century Victorian mansion an hour’s drive out of London had housed Great Britain’s most notorious Nazi prisoner-of-war. For two months. in close formation. two Spitfires from the nearby fighter base roared. Most of the world knew him to be Nazi Germany’s Deputy Fuehrer Rudolf Hess.wondered what Lampert thought of the gutsy analyst now. slittrenches dug into the lawns. floodlights for night use. very slowly. full-throttle. The Kid was briefing the President on the status of England. Put a mark on the wall. It was another warm day in what was turning out to be one of the hottest summers on record. Inside the double-perimeter barbwire barricades were machine-gun posts.
his new. When he saw the cracked. it seemed. and chipped furniture. All the windows were closed. then entered the gloomy front entrance of the badly-maintained estate. he looked around. he wondered who had done the decorating. “Your identification. lit his pipe and waited. 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. dark walls. one level up. although they knew the prisoner wouldn’t get too far in his current invalid condition. surrounded by a metal cage.” 31 . The mansion was surprisingly cool. Colonel Raymond Lampert went about his work today with a high degree of dignity. Lampert nodded at the sentry who stood opposite the caged-in room. month-old MI-6 title. Beside it was the sitting room on one side. sir. Lampert climbed the squeaky oak staircase. So did the prisoner. At the top. When the armed entourage helped the prisoner into the building through the ground floor music room. the bathroom on the other. Everyone – inside and out – carried weapons at all times. wooden floors. The ex-British Army officer who had distinguished himself in the Great War had all the time in the world. A drunk? Mytchett Place could have passed for Dracula’s castle. Security was tighter now in Camp Z. the colonel waited several more minutes.Lampert raised his six-foot frame from the vehicle. as Executive Officer of Enigma Operations. The prisoner’s bedroom was on the first floor.
” Lampert exploded.” “Stop what?” “You’ve been talking to the guards and making statements like ‘How do you know I’m the real Rudolf Hess?’ Is that true. He took it. Look here! We’ve been hearing some things about you. his eyes watery. They were expecting him. The colonel flipped out his pocket-sized MI-6 Secret Service ID and waved it under the nose of the eager sentry.” said Lampert. “No. Immediately. then returned it. one of the new faces. colonel. looked. “Yes.“Of course.” “I’m sorry. shut up! Don’t be such a ninny. Lampert slid into a chair.” “What do you want then?” “Let me be frank with you. his voice shaky. He was pitifully pale and hollow faced and still appeared to be in some agony from the fall in June.” “Thank you. who are you? A doctor?” Prisoner Z asked in German-accented English. “Oh. his left leg in a cast. it seemed to Lampert. next to a mahogany table. You’ve been up to no good. and leaned onto the table. “He’s in the sitting room. dear boy?” 32 . He looked up grimly. Prisoner Z was seated in a wheelchair. in only months. I don’t know any Frank. He had aged years.” Lampert opened the door. And we want you to stop.
. Lampert got up. . “No . 33 . You will not attempt any stupid suicides to gain attention. the Deputy Fuehrer of Nazi Germany.” Schubert hung his head. My rights are being violated under the rules of the Geneva Convention.” Lampert continued. “I came to Britain in an unarmed plane.” Lampert’s fist clenched.The prisoner looked directly at Lampert. his eyes on the German. What do you think of that. more . I have a headache. trouble. this pigstyso the Duke of Hamilton can’t find me. We know your name. You will not play any more silly games.” “I’ll give you a worse headache if you dare to trifle with us. and we’ll go after your family in Germany if you do not cooperate. . “Do you understand? Can I at least get a nod?” Schubert nodded twice. isn’t it?” “Shut up! You are Rudolf Hess. A flag of truce. “Any more trouble from you and we’ll do away with your miserable life. You know what I mean?” Then he vanished beyond the door. “I was hoping you were a doctor. “Rights! You listen to me. . his mouth hardening. I’m kept in this . . “You know my name? How? It’s the drugs. Herr Felix Schubert? Are you following me?’” Schubert’s face flushed red. . including your real purpose in coming here two months ago.” Lampert waited. everything about you.
It was more like Roosevelt summoned you. Finally.” Hollinger and Donovan thanked the man. “Have a seat. The White House was better than Donovan’s description of it only minutes before. Churchill’s 10 Downing Street was a dump by comparison. You might have to wait a few minutes. and past large furnished rooms.” Donovan said. who smiled his pleasure before disappearing through a side door. sir?” “Churchill didn’t send you. “Yes.CHAPTER THREE The White House Hollinger reveled in the once-in-a-lifetime moment like a six-year-old with a new toy. gentlemen. down long corridors. “I feel I should fill you in on something. To arrive at the Oval Office inside the one-hundredand-twenty-five-room White House. they were ushered to a small reception area. he and Donovan were steered by an aide up wide stairs.” “He did?” 34 . Wesley.
” “OK. maybe.” “Is that all?” “No.” “That’s ridiculous. “It is? I don’t get it. What you’re made of. Why me in the first place?” “Because you’ve already been briefed on the Hess mission. “What kind of decision. Churchill. Where on earth did he get that idea?” “I dunno. The President has to come to a decision about you.” “Yes. But I still don’t get it.” “Sir. They both happened to occur at the same time. be yourself. Remember. 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. You have me convinced.” Hollinger was surprised and disappointed. sir?” “Either send you back to England or keep you here in some capacity. It could very well be based on how you handle yourself today.” “The President wants to see if you’re of use to us there.” Hollinger fiddled nervously with the fedora in his hand. OK. sir.“Yes. 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. To put it simply. you’re available. I can assure you that I’m not the wild man people say that I am.” 35 .
He turned to greet Donovan first. superbly-cut suit and large diamond ring on his hand. “this is Wesley Hollinger.” “Excellent. the young.” Minutes later. Mr. Then the President’s strong eyes fell on Hollinger. “Swell. in green tie and white shirt sleeves. the aide returned.“Oh.” Hollinger thanked the aide again for the quick tour. and hurried after Donovan through the door into the Oval Office. 36 . over-emphasizing one of the colonel’s nicknames. fellah?” he said jovially. rugged American with the thick.” Hollinger smirked. cigarette in mouth. The President was behind his desk. He was instrumental in the breaking of the German Enigma II diplomatic code I had briefed you about. President. “You may go in now. one of our COI agents in England. “You mean I just happened to be in the right place at the right time.” “Exactly. President.” “So you’re the fellah who’s turned England upsidedown. And he also had considerable experience with the breaking and decoding of the Japanese Purple code. wavy hair. “Wild Bill.” Donovan said. “What should I call you? The Kid or the Tyrant of Hut Nine?” Roosevelt then broke into thunderous laughter. Put er there!” Donovan set his briefcase at his feet and shook hands with the nation’s mighty commander-in-chief. eh? What name do you prefer to go by?” “Sir?” Hollinger gulped. “Mr. how goes it.
sir. With his large upper chest. 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. As Hollinger perceived it. sir. Someone who Hollinger’s father would probably call a real Iron Ass. I should be used to it by now. you two. “Sorry. I couldn’t resist that.” “Sit down. son. And you. 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.” “You’ve made quite the impression over there. Still.” “Thank you. wheelchair-bound for the last number of years. Wesley? Coffee?” “Yes.” 37 . it was a shock for Hollinger to actually see the President’s metal companion beneath him. sir. The newsreels did not show the bona fide Franklin Delano Roosevelt. Welcome to the White House. Wesley. strong shoulders and deep voice. 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. To walk.” “That’s quite all right.Hollinger relaxed and marveled at his commander-inchief. Coffee sounds great. Bill. FDR had been victimized by polio. he used cumbersome leg braces and crutches. Coffee? I know you like yours black. the President was the Babe Ruth of American politics. Roosevelt’s handshake was firm and warm.
“What else is new?” he said. with little effort.” “Does he?” “Yes. son?” “A little touchy sometimes. sir. But he believes a Channel invasion is still coming. the British don’t scare easily. He folded his arms. However.Roosevelt took the silver pot on his messy. . sir. Hollinger had been forewarned – the President would be blunt. Britain will go belly-up. Planes. Winston Churchill. crushed his cigarette in a desk ashtray. paperfilled desk and poured for the two men as they took up chairs. Churchill wants more aid. The oil of Iraq and the Persian Gulf is a priority. So . “The Brits have cracked the German codes. The wheelchair creaked.” The President listened with modest concern. Ships. forthwith.” “So. Hollinger set his fedora on his arm rest. sure. mister. casually. He also seemed as haughty as his overseas counterpart. Churchill doesn’t plan to throw in the towel. and lit a new one for his holder. Thanks for asking. sir. But they are in no condition to stop Hitler by them38 .” Hollinger said. Without oil. Roosevelt smiled. can England hold out?” the President barked. Rommel has his eye on the fields. . “The situation is grave. “It’s nice to drink a good cup of coffee again. “How’s the shoulder injury. then added cream and sugar to the mug given him. We know that keen communications and updated intelligence operations are the keys to winning a modern war.
I agree with Wesley.selves. He sensed the President was toying with them. you’re getting around. sir. Bill. They can’t win with Enigma and radar alone.” “True. “With all due respect.” “What do you think of this. In person.” He glanced at Donovan. As you may know. the appeasers would have taken over by now. Not after. “But are we prepared for war?” His tone indicated that he already knew the answer.” Roosevelt nodded. knowing the ropes. “In detail.” 39 . Bill? Is he telling us the truth or is he another angel of British propaganda playing with the President?” Donovan pinched the brim of his hat in his lap. Wesley?” Roosevelt thundered. I understand. “I think he’s giving it to us straight. You must be well-enough versed on England’s readiness. “Wesley. Churchill was nearly overthrown by parliament two months ago.” “Ours?” “Maybe. They need some muscle.” “Are you saying we should get into this war. we might have to eventually. Before England falls. You’ve spoken to Churchill. “We were well aware of it. “No more than the British were in ’39.” Roosevelt turned again to Hollinger. Radar saved them. in the not too distant future. Hollinger paused to study Donovan.” “If that had happened.” Roosevelt threw his head back. cigarette in his mouth. They barely scraped through the Battle of Britain.
twisting the sheets at different angles. before the President picked up more of the details on his own.” “What’s his upcoming strategy?” “Survive till the end of the year. It doesn’t. Three times.” the President said slowly. Some people feel Britain will lose the war. . The next topic.” “Yes. Hollinger looked uncomfortably around the office for several moments of silence.” “Lay it on me. while his leader digested as much of the information as he could. The oil contracts on hold.“Yes.” “No. They want to negotiate. Hollinger gave a heady explanation of what appeared to be two sets of peace proposals.” Donovan dug into his briefcase and handed Roosevelt several mimeographed sheets that had made their way across the Atlantic in Hollinger’s briefcase. The way I prefer it. Somehow. the freezing of assets across the board. sir. “That’s why I’m here. What about this . And he jumped from subject to subject. sir.” “Doesn’t sound too healthy. Hitler’s and Hess’s. . FDR was a blunt man. The ban of further gas and iron ore shipments to their island. Yes. With the tar on. young man. “What about the Japanese? You’ve heard the latest. 40 . sir. Hess incident?” Hollinger cleared his throat.” “Hitler is only one problem. Roosevelt had a peculiar way of reading.
So he did bring them. Churchill’s men supposedly informed the Russian Embassy in Great Britain. “I guess he does now. that is. That’s astonishing!” “Still years away.” “And the result?” “Stalin didn’t believe the British.The President broke the silence after two minutes. Only Hitler thought Hess was representing him. therefore we think they’re from Hess’s actual typewriter.” “I see. glancing over his reading glasses at Hollinger. Prior to the attack in June. We have no reason not to. sir. the American leader read more. Jet aircraft. five hundred miles per hour. He sure does. Maybe by his own hand. The Fuehrer. sir. that’s correct. just the same. But scary.” Roosevelt rubbed his face with a hand. sir.” “Yes. “Hess claims the Germans have atomic weapons.” “Yes. and rockets. Three times the speed of sound.” “Says here he was seeking asylum?” the President asked.” Silently. And Hitler let him go. “Are these direct copies of a German type?” Hollinger nodded. “Concentration camps?” 41 . I didn’t expect them to be that well along. “There’s a few spelling and punctuation errors. “Yes. sir. sir.” The President laughed. “Do you believe it?” “Yes. sir.” Hollinger confirmed.” “The battle plans for the attack of Russia.” “Yes.
sir. “Classic case of the inmates running the prison. “The Germans are methodical people.” The President’s face went pale. President. Hollinger wanted to say. Some master Aryan race. sir. execution sites. Now. who 42 . I’m going to like you. Most of this is still in the planning stages.” The President seemed to deflate by the second. “We don’t know that yet. Wesley?” “I’ll try anything once. MI-6 agents have confirmed everything as true. Auschwitz and Dachau have been around for a few years to house political prisoners and Jews. sir. perking up. sir.” “That’s correct. He and Donovan eyed each other. both slowly grinning. Mr. “In other words. Hollinger was not accustomed to drinking before eleven in the morning. I hope so.” the President said. they are being converted over to what Hess described as—” “Internment camps. That is to enslave and to kill. boy. Two of note.” “Atta. Roosevelt buzzed the intercom for his valet.” The President inhaled noisily. What do you say to a martini? You game. Coffee isn’t strong enough this morning. beneath the fancy words they have one purpose.” the President answered. But. Along with their version of genetic breeding. “Have these reports been verified?” “Yes. his voice rising.“Yes. They go by several names. What’s their method of execution?” His voice seemed weak.
The presidential martinis were great. Here they are. There’s no more than the equivalent of fifteen million dollars after the exchange – at most – in the account. On his first taste. British agents in Switzerland checked it out. holding his drink up.” “That’s not all with Hess. but came up short when they discovered Himmler had placed a secret codename to it. “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 was sold. The money was only the beginning of 43 .” Hollinger confirmed.” Hollinger said. Donovan knew what he was talking about. The President enjoyed doctoring up the exact amounts of gin and vermouth. at first. then left. “Himmler? What does he have to do with this?” He paused to read.” Donovan said. “So do we. sir. topped with a strip of lemon. “I’ve yet to taste a martini anywhere quite this good.” “Another set?” “Yes.” Donovan and Hollinger glanced at each other. I take pride in my bartending. Wesley. But now we know it was a lie to entice the appeasers.brought with him all the ingredients on a roll-out. “Thank you. “Sir.” Roosevelt beamed.” Roosevelt buried his attention in the mimeographed copies handed to him from Donovan’s briefcase. sir. President. “There was another set of proposals found. “The one billion booty seemed legit. Mr. MI-6 tried to access it.
they’ve discovered his name is Felix Schubert. and send a man over by sub instead.” “What!” “A Hess look-a-like. “’Fraid so. We think he had schemed to kill Hess in mid-flight.” The President was mortified. In case the line was tapped by the enemy. With new experimental truth drugs. “Himmler? That’s incredible. only—” “Hold on here.Himmler’s participation in the Hess flight.” Hollinger said. we might have to take it to our graves.” 44 . to present a peace deal with the British. over the wire.” The President raised an eyebrow. He had a plot of his own. Himmler’s man shot Hess dead. What do you mean he shot Hess dead? Who the hell is behind bars in England?” “Sir. sir.” “Churchill couldn’t tell you the truth. boy. Part of the pact would see Himmler take over as the new Fuehrer.” “How long will the British keep this a secret?” “With the real Hess dead. then attempted to fly out of Scotland for Ireland. “Good Lord! Are you serious? An impostor?” Hollinger nodded. using Hess’s aircraft.” “Who else knows?” “Only a handful.” “No wonder the British are so tight-lipped about it. Hess escaped the net and flew his way to Scotland the same time Himmler’s man arrived by sub. “The man the Limeys have in custody is an impostor.” “But something went wrong.
” “I see. President. was the word. Mr. Churchill has made it clear that no one in England who knew Hess before the war will see the prisoner. as the Brits say. “I saw both him and the real Hess up close. He’s convinced that Germany and England are plotting against him. bringing the martini to his lips and swallowing. “Since the news of his flight. meanwhile. then. unauthorized interviews are forbidden. Hallucinating. glancing at Donovan.” 45 . Hitler’s broadcasts said Hess was crazy. . enough to fool those who had never met him face to face. Churchill.” “Only a few choice people know. “The likeness is pretty fair. us three.“It’s a massive cover-up.” Hollinger continued. is under heavy guard in a castle fifty miles southwest of London. MI-5 don’t and will not know. It’s labeled Most Secret. Movies.” “Oh. did you?” “Yes. photographs. a few feet apart.” Hollinger shook his head. He’ll play along if he knows it’s his only way to stay alive.” A hush swept over the three men. . a few members of MI-6. It’s a desperate situation. The impostor. He . “It might look that way to him. What do you know? You saw this man. sir. “An impostor.” Roosevelt grinned. But that’s not the case. Neither will the Special Operations Branch of MI-6.” Roosevelt said. Stalin is suspicious. he was the one who shot me.
We’re neutral and we don’t want to abuse the neutrality laws. when I see him. Tell Churchill that and I will too. “On the whole our country isn’t behind England. You’ve been a witness to some of this at Bletchley Park. you’re already privy to some sensitive information. Even though we’re already in it more than most Americans realize. for England’s sake. Tell the Prime Minister that. If the truth were known about how we were secretly aiding Britain. They have me by the short hairs.Roosevelt sat up. a pride in his voice. We share secrets. see I told you. sir. We see eye to eye. one of these times. one that Wild Bill knows well. I’d be impeached by now.” Hollinger said. England – Churchill in particular – needs this administration. One reason only. Therefore.” Hollinger felt at ease in his heart. “I hope it won’t be too late. “Wesley. Not me.” Donovan looked over at Hollinger as if to say. I can’t afford to bring a divided nation into this. clenching the cigarette holder in his mouth. he was headed back to Great Britain. Another administration in the White House would have passed England off as lost. “we’ll get into it.” “I will. Only Congress can declare war. I decided to go for my third term of office last year for one reason. How and when is the question. it’s quite safe to tell you a story. Not enough to send American boys over. 46 . Perhaps. But damn it. My situation is critical.’’ Roosevelt nodded with a fluid firmness. There’s been a direct channel between us for two years.
And another chance with Roberta Langford. “To my knowledge. “Shocking. the briefing at an end.” Roosevelt said firmly.” Roosevelt returned the papers to Donovan. This is it?” Roosevelt waved the papers in his hand. but your eyes and ears should be open for anything that might concern us as Americans first. “Return to England. 47 . “Yes. Keep a low profile. Then again.” Donovan stood beside Hollinger. one of Wild Bill’s sidekicks. His future was being discussed in the Oval Office. Wesley.” the President ordered. you two. He only had to wait ten minutes to find out the verdict. sir. Have a safe trip back. “so we can talk behind your back.” Hollinger stood and crossed into the reception area and sat down in a wide. Him. Thanks for coming. boy. Donovan called him back to face the President. they aren’t. smiling. sir. Wesley Hollinger. Wesley.“Me too.” “Yes. If it was all the same to him. raising a finger. I want somebody who can sink their teeth into the situation there.” “This has been a most enlightening morning. won’t you. he’d vote to gladly remain in England.” “Leave the room for a moment. Report directly to Colonel Donovan. comfortable chair.” Hollinger was relieved. that’s all they gave me. “Wesley. “How do we know that the British aren’t holding anything back?” Hollinger had been considering that for weeks.
“By the way. “Good luck. Any day.” Hollinger replied. grabbing his fedora off the arm rest. looking up from his wheelchair. and God speed. In fact. They knew which end was up.” 48 . He was won over. sir. Iron Asses. Donovan turned to Hollinger. my boy.“Thank you.” The President appreciated the remark. And they could drink at any hour. FDR and Churchill had a lot in common. “And a special thanks for the refreshments. you’ll go far in the COI. our little talk in the car about the war is not to be repeated to anyone. They were ruthless with their opponents.” Filing out in step with Donovan. and in a low voice said. Hollinger came to some quick conclusions. “What talk?” “Good boy. forget I said it.” Hollinger cleared his throat. Walking down a hall. in a democratic sense. Hollinger. the both of them.
so Jordan’s contact said. The anonymous caller had warned him of that. He left the car and worked his way through the thicket called Windsor Forest. The grounds were also fortified against German Commando raids. He’d stick to what the anonymous telephone caller had whispered to him. He would have to stop his car a good mile back and take the rest of the way on foot. He saw the red-brick mansion through the trees. squatting down as he came to the edge of a clearing. Every soldier was outfitted with a firearm. which he knew was well back off the road. So this was Camp Z. Two detachments. one from the Coldstream Guards. Run exclusively by MI-6. were detailed to guard the famous prisoner. either a pistol 49 . he drove on with extreme caution. His powerful binoculars would have to do the rest. He couldn’t go any further.CHAPTER FOUR Camp Z – July 30 Once Stephen Jordan pin-pointed the general location of the mansion. the other from the Scots Guards.
Jordan waited. The soldier walked along the 50 . It would have been easier to tell had he not sustained the injury because Rudolf Hess had a distinct walk. unsteady turn of the property in one corner. So watch it. Jordan was told. Jordan shook his head. 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. slowly. The man on the phone was right for the umpteenth time. not to be heard. he zeroed in on the prisoner’s face. After an hour. It didn’t matter. The prisoner was closer now. The prisoner’s upper leg was in a cast. An armed soldier appeared. The howling engine of an overhead banking fighter suddenly drowned out every noise for a few seconds. A few had both. Jordan pulled his hand out of the foliage. Disappointed. the back door swung open. The German did look like Adolf Hitler’s deputy.or a machine gun. making a slow. It was too far. Four men were inside the barbwire barricade. It was plain to see from a few hundred feet away. thirty feet off to the right. Jordan had heard of the prisoner’s accident. He couldn’t tell conclusively. then a guard assisted him into the mansion. two guards propping him up. A man in dark clothing emerged. Jordan flipped his darkrimmed glasses up into his hair and with the binoculars to his eyes. Jordan started to climb down. The prisoner was out in the yard for only ten minutes. Then he stopped cold.
Before the tea gets cold.” one guard sighed out loud.” “Let’s push off. All the soldier had to do was look up and Jordan was cooked. The guards stopped short. He closed his eyes and said a silent prayer. Then Jordan heard a strange noise.” **** 51 . another soldier stepped forward. “Birds. Jordan held his breath. Tea time. Jordan moved his foot. It was very quiet now. Blasted! The soldier was relieving himself in the weeds. nearly gagging him. stopped. “Whew.” The soldiers walked away into the clearing.clearing and stationed himself immediately under the tree. “Anything?” “All quiet on the eastern front. The sound of the fighter was gone. And he’d have a lot of explaining to do. and brought their firearms up. Jordan clutched the trunk with one hand. “What was that?” They ran for the forest. We’re getting paranoid. Pissing right under the tree! The strong smell of urine drifted up to Jordan. Come along. his Bren-gun by his side. A hissing. Then two robins flew out of one of the trees. When the guard finished up. The soldiers heard it. his binoculars with the other. He’d be marched off to the mansion and interrogated.
a man named David McLean. HERR HESS. He recalled the wild rumors he’d been hearing since the prisoner had crash-landed his ME-110 in Scotland more than two months ago. Kirkpatrick had since denied he ever said such a thing. Why? Had someone talked to him? Warned him? Even threatened him? Were they the same people who were denying the newsman – Jordan – access to the prisoner? 52 . Jordan slapped the paper down.London Daily Telegraph Jordan loosened his tie and flipped through his office files until he found the bold Glasgow Daily Record frontpage headlines of the Rudolf Hess flight. the BBC executive who made the official government identification of the pilot with the Duke of Hamilton. Kirkpatrick told Jordan that he felt that the prisoner looked different than the Hess he had known in Berlin. HITLER’S RIGHT-HAND MAN HAS RUN AWAY FROM GERMANY AND IS IN GLASGOW SUFFERING FROM A BROKEN ANKLE. Jordan poured over the crisp clipping which included the government’s official statement. NAZI LEADER FLIES TO SCOTLAND. Ivone Kirkpatrick. a simple nobody who had become famous overnight by pure accident. At the time. However. HE BROUGHT PHOTOGRAPHS TO ESTABLISH HIS IDENTITY. Back in May. RUDOLF HESS IN GLASGOW OFFICIAL. and removed his glasses to rub his eyes. Jordan checked one such rumor out by asking someone he knew personally. and the account from the ploughman who had captured Hess.
May 18. 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. OPERATION ORDER NO. with the genuine Foreign Office stamp. Four letters to him on newspaper office stationery had gone unanswered. The location of the camp and the person’s duties were described in detail. No contact with the outside world. Jordan had a flood of questions. books. And the steel magnate Simon Brenwood – Churchill’s fiercest opponent – refused to talk. and even some little tidbits 53 . But no newspapers or wireless. Any visitors had to be authorized and signed for with paperwork by Alexander Cadogan. Then came yesterday’s anonymous phone call. He was responsible for the health and comfort of Prisoner Z. One was an official government document with a significant first line. The anonymous person knew a lot.It seemed anyone who knew Hess on sight wasn’t allowed to visit him. And two letters later left in his mailbox. writing materials. Food.1. Only the name had to be filled in to be valid. MOST SECRET. recreation were to be provided. The editor of the London Times was one of those kept at length. And he probably wanted to stay anonymous. what to watch out for and the dangers along the way. The second letter was one such signed and stamped verification. how to get there. It instructed a certain unnamed person to proceed to a place called Camp Z at 1200 hours on Sunday. Permanent Under Secretary at the Foreign Office.
He was so young then. stiff. Jordan had to laugh. He was courteous. He sat hunched at the table. Some people in London knew the truth. Fine woman. the prisoner’s eating habits and table manners were atrocious. from an upper middle-class background. Jordan saw it for himself five years ago in Germany. Jordan could forget the whole Hess thing. He especially enjoyed beef and chicken dishes. like her husband. somewhat dimwitted. He lunched with him. and a hell of a lot smarter. For instance. Jordan remembered how Rudolf Hess walked. He was a newsman who still felt compelled to find and report the facts. So inexperienced. A bright-eyed idealist who sought the truth. But for Jordan. Jordan even took a turn with the Deputy Fuehrer on his beautifully-manicured property. Vegetable dishes. Some close to Churchill. And he was rude. and often wolfed them down. forgetting it was not an option. elbows spread out. Jordan didn’t miss the clues. or perhaps Churchill was part 54 . Proud. He was still an idealist. even under the cloud of military secrecy and the stiff censorship inflicted on newspapers during the war. Not rude. thank you very much. He had met and chatted with his wife. upright. Ilse. like the rest of England had settled to doing. Barely twenty. Intelligent. A precious few. Hess was supposed to be a vegetarian. He had spent some casual time with Hess at his home outside Munich in 1936. Something – no! – a lot. His first year on the job. wiser. obnoxious. Only a few years older. didn’t fit. of course.about the man behind bars.
If we can stand up to him. made more sinister and perhaps more protracted by the lights of perverted science. For the hundredth time today Jordan contemplated what had been driving him mad for weeks. will sink into the abyss of a New Dark Age. where strategy was changing significantly from month to month. . 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. But that was last year. men will say. ‘This was their finest hour. The powerful speech – still talked about in the free world – had helped to carry Great Britain through the Blitz and the Battle of Britain. 55 .of it too. year to year. Maybe his whole damn cabinet knew. including the United States. . all Europe may be free and the life of the world may move forward into broad sunlit uplands. Ancient history in this war. including all that we have known and cared for. 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. Was this man imprisoned at Camp Z Nazi Germany’s Deputy Fuehrer Rudolf Hess or . In 1940.’” It had been over a year since Churchill’s “Finest Hour” radio broadcast had inspired the free world. the whole world. But if we fail.
By the summer of 1941. military officers. to the Bahamas to act as Governor. powered by compressed air. lit by candles in lanterns.” Designed to house 2. Insiders called it “The Hole in the Ground. Appeasers feared him. the leader of the “British Peace Party” to Washington as Ambassador to the United States. politicians. Communication tubes. Prime Minister Winston Spencer Churchill continued to conduct the affairs of his country at war with Adolf Hitler’s Nazi Germany. and newsmen were labeling the plump. with exposed timbers. Soon after. wires. one member of Parliament went so far as to say that the only way to fight Hitler was with another Hitler. the Hole was the nerve center of the English war effort.The voice behind that mighty radio broadcast puffed furiously on his thick Havana cigar this afternoon. Here. braces. who had his own agenda for ruling by decree. In private. lined the walls and whistled as messages were sent from one department to another. and the Prime Minister’s office. meaningless 56 . the Duke of Windsor. a radio station. he had the gall to exile the figurehead of the appeaser group. and pipes. strong-willed. a dull. Churchill a virtual dictator. a cabinet room. a power station. hunched over the end of the conference table in the underground War Room one hundred feet below Whitehall and his Downing Street residence. He had banished Lord Halifax.000 people. in the midst of musty smells. No wonder. In these surroundings stood a map room. Connecting dungeon-like rooms were ugly and damp.
Strang. Since the Hess flight. The Duke of Hamilton. Brenwood. Simon Brenwood. If the Prime Minister could take care of such VIP’s. Since Dunkirk. Oliver. It still bothered Churchill how France had capitulated so easily in 1940. They paid for it. at least. And Churchill had Halifax’s successor. dearly. Butler. across from the large-scale map of Europe. The French had the strongest Army in the world – on paper. such as House of Commons back-benchers who didn’t toe the line. The Wehrmacht continued to goose-step across the Russian Plains. At his desk. many wondered what he could do to others of lesser note. the sixty-six-year-old War Lord was in a surly mood. Churchill read a few copies of the Enigma intercepts – meteorological reports and 57 . He couldn’t continue to fight a war on just words. As a result. Enemy U-Boat strength had picked up. Great Britain had little left of her armed forces. with barely a fight. Over his cigar. and he’d be the first to acknowledge it to close friends. But Hitler’s forces cut through them like a knife through butter. He was losing the war. Rommel – the Desert Fox – still had his way with the demoralized British forces. leaving England in such a desperate state. few had been testing him now that the high-level Fifth Columnists were brought under control and were behaving. arrested. All because the fools didn’t believe in the danger of air power.assignment for the man who had secretly supported Hitler all along. O’Malley. more Allied cargo ships were being torpedoed to the murky Atlantic bottom.
Poland. running a country during a war. flying the Swastika. Latvia. France. Norway. knowing that more lives would be saved in the long run. Czechoslovakia. It was to be Coventry. Frightening stuff. But if he had done that the Germans would have known their Enigma code had been broken. Churchill found it alarming to know so much. The Germans were unbeatable. Sent over from Colonel Lampert’s office. that evening! Churchill could have called for an evacuation of the city to save lives. they were on the standard eight-by-ten inch sheets. Churchill did not enjoy playing God. not to mention the guts of the message. Today’s intercepts spoke of a thrust to Leningrad. The four neutrals – Sweden. All under the shiny Nazi jackboot. Each message indicated the frequency. Hungary. the call-signs of the receiver and the sender. It reminded him of the Blitz last November 14 when Bletchley had intercepted four hours in advance the next German bombing target. An ever-expanding portion of western Russia. 58 . Estonia. Spain and Portugal – were the only untouched countries on the continent. the date. Switzerland. with regret. the time. Churchill had to let the raid go on. Lithuania. Most of North Africa was Irwin Rommel’s domain. Austria.Hermann Goering’s orders to his Luftwaffe fighter and dive-bomber leaders on the Russian Front. where the black pins and red strings identified the boundaries of the Axis Empire. in the overall war picture. He turned around to the map of Europe. Terrible business.
To start with.” 59 . isolated.” “Yes. sir. Twenty miles from annihilation. a mere twenty miles as the crow flies across the Channel from occupied France. had arrived for the weekly in-person MI-6 progress report. Even lost my temper with him. “Don’t we all? What about that little problem?” “I read him the riot act. The door handle rattled.” Lampert answered. Churchill laughed. And a chunk of Egypt.” “How’s our lame man?” Churchill grunted. grayer. “Close the door. sir. Find a chair. one of those in the inner circle.” “It’s imperative that he does. “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.Algeria. I did. the two men had discussed Prisoner Z’s future should the British be victorious over Germany and should the impostor go to trial. older.” “Jolly good. sir. his voice sturdy. and heavier of late. Colonel Lampert. colonel. He’ll cooperate. The other things?” A week before.” “Thank you. Do everything you can to safeguard him against any further incidents. Libya. Churchill peered over the rims of his half-moon reading glasses. Great Britain stood off to one side. we’ve increased the drug dosage in his food. “He snores.
” “Brandy?” “I’d be delighted. Covered the Berlin Olympics in ‘36 60 .” Lampert took his generous portion.” Churchill smiled. “There’s people who want to interview the prisoner.” They sat around the table and drank.” “Well?” “We found some pre-war notes in our files in Hess’s handwriting. he unscrewed the cap and poured until the glasses nearly spilled over. “Stephen Jordan. have you?” “Yes. But no whiskey and soda. What’s her name?” “Ilse.” Churchill found the brandy bottle and two glasses in a side cabinet. “To the war effort. “Come for your afternoon spot of tea. you know. Churchill licked his lips. sir. One of those old Anglo-German Fellowship Association clods. A newsman. I have a letter right here. sir. “Bottoms up.” “Who is he?” Churchill dug for the sheet. sir?” “I ran out. His third written plea to me to see him. A good forger will do the job for us. With shaky hands.“The handwriting? He’ll have to start writing to Hess’s wife soon.” “Jordan? From the Daily Telegraph?” “You know him?” “Yes. An excellent offer that is fitting for the moment.
the information. filled it with some bricks. sir. sir. “Operation Decoy.” Churchill bit the Havana cigar between his teeth. Kenneth Sims. Switzerland is always our best source. Buried at sea. I’ll just ignore them.” “I’m glad of that. Use the Hess papers to their benefit.’’ Churchill nodded. not a bleeding thing. two of our men had it taken out of the ground. He hoped this idea would bear fruit. And he knows the Duke of Hamilton quite well. Then the German took a Lufthansa flight to Berlin early this afternoon. and dumped it a few miles into the Firth of Forth. Alienate Himmler from the rest of those gutter rats. Anything else for me?” “Our man in Portugal.” “Oh. For the first day or so.for the Telegraph. Saturn. Deliver the first blow. What did he say?” “It seems the trap’s been laid. I suppose.” “Is that so? Chances are he might have met the real Hess in Germany. “Did you do what was necessary to Hess’s body?” “Yesterday.” “I don’t like that.” 61 . after Sims gave the Gestapo man. Schmidt. Our agents have their ears open for any information coming through our listening posts in the neutral countries.” “It’s highly possible. They put it in a crate. cabled Headquarters this morning.” “Out of sight.” “You think he’s heading straight to Himmler?” “Could be. yes. yes. out of mind.
” “It doesn’t matter. more than anything. “He did! What offer is that?” “Yesterday.” “Have you heard from the Kid?” Churchill grinned for the first time. “Incidentally.” “What’s in the offing?” “If England signs a negotiated peace to end the war. Quite the lad. a top secret communiqué came through our Embassy in Switzerland from the German Embassy.“Precisely. That’s what really counts. “A cable came through yesterday. Hitler said he is willing to give up some . for a promise of a free hand in Russia. . certainly not since the attack on Russia.” “Don’t remind me. are they?” 62 .” Lampert’s eyes bulged. Hollinger and Donovan gave Roosevelt both barrels. young Wesley.” Churchill cleared the bile in his throat. The two ambassadors are the only ones briefed. . They’re waiting on my reply. As long as he told Roosevelt what we briefed him on.” “There’s no sign of a Channel invasion. above and beyond his original proposals in Hess’s papers.” “You think Hollinger knows the score? Remember how the sneak outsmarted us with the Hess flight. concessions. colonel.” “Sizable concessions. The President got the good word – the Hess proposals and the impostor information. his jaw thrust out. He must see that. “Lucky. I want you to know that Hitler has given us an eleventhhour peace offer.” Churchill said.
63 . “it doesn’t leave us in a bargaining position. I will tell our Ambassador to kindly inform the German Ambassador to go shit in his hat. The winter spoiled his plans for conquest. The colonel was one man who would dare to speak his mind. Churchill didn’t object to men in the tight Whitehall circle doing that providing they eventually came to an understanding. previously-occupied territory. Churchill’s understanding.” “If Hitler’s willing to make concessions – whatever they are – for Russia. sir?” “By all means. colonel.” “May I make a suggestion. Germany will set the world price of oil. this can’t be leaked out to anybody. What kind of peace will that be?” “I’m merely thinking of a temporary truce.” Churchill cut Lampert short.“Let’s say.” the Prime Minister said.” “You don’t say? Is he serious?” “That’s not the point! Serious or not.” Churchill considered Lampert’s opinion. But I don’t necessarily have to follow it through. We’ll grind to a halt. that I don’t wish to elaborate on. then don’t you think we should negotiate with him?” “If Rommel reaches the oil fields. of course. Remember what happened to Napoleon. If Hitler is willing to deal. The Prime Minister detested yes men. he just may burn himself out on the Russian Front. Forget the whole thing as if it never happened! I’m not even going to discuss it with my cabinet. “We’ll see if Hitler pays heed to history.
They believe anything we tell them. “Just some stretching of the truth. “Peace with Hitler” was a dirty phrase in Churchill’s presence. Prime Minister. The Americans. We got the Russians into this war by sitting on our rumps and doing absolutely nothing to help them. He’s a monster. As far as Hollinger knows. Donovan is under our wing and he’s close to the President.” Lampert shook his head. . Say . And not to be trusted.“We can always try testing him and come back with a clause of our own. Hitler has to give up North Africa too. Mr. He knew better than to press. What if they should discover we’ve been pulling their legs? It would cause a row in their papers. providing there’s some shred of truth to it. on the other hand. “Speaking of Russia. School mates. Between friends. “We are on some dangerous ground. you don’t suppose the President asked Hollinger if we had notified the Russians about Operation Barbarossa?” “I rather suspect he did. .” Churchill didn’t mind Lampert’s honesty. What did Roosevelt call him? My Secret Legs.” Lampert caved in. Our Lend-Lease could come to an 64 . He wants the oil. the issue is dead. like any soldier worth his salt. despite the gloomy possibility of total defeat. sir.” “You mean some . Obey blindly. . There will be no Vichy-type government in England. I told you. lying to.” “Nonsense! He won’t. will require some coaxing. . we did too.
Just in case he finds out what’s really going on. Good thing she had reserved. Aris trotted her way through the light rain to the restaurant within walking distance of her bank.” “They won’t find out. She always had to view the street. I will have to convince Roosevelt in our meeting that the fate of the world lies in his hands.” The Prime Minister laughed. if the Jewish camps and the German technology doesn’t do it.end.” “The President is holding all the cards. “My God. As usual.” “I want you to keep an eye on Hollinger. closed umbrella in hand. He 65 . The consequences could be worse than what we’re facing now. for it was busy early today. She knew him simply as Smith. “One other thing. Good for their ego. Donovan’s man arrived exactly on the hour.” The colonel knew that watching Hollinger’s every move was easier said than done. **** New York City At 11:40. Americans like that sort of thing.” “Yes. “As you wish. she was given a window table. sir.” Lampert nodded. We’ll just help him along. And he has to know it. what will?” “I have to wonder.” Lampert nodded again. colonel.
dark-haired thirty-five-year old woman of Greek descent. “Mr. He’s in his vault every day. He pulled out a cigarette and lit it. don’t you?” Smith nodded. the colonel is very interested in anything to do with I. remember. colorless vegetable juice. “Call me Aris. Mrs. we’d have to either heat it or dip it into solutions. Palini. I did.was younger than her. a sugar mixture. “An invisible liquid of some sort. and I’d be a suspect. “How’s my old boss. He sat down and smiled. Lowering his voice he said. He’d know when something’s missing. Bill tells me you came across a file on Filberg.” Smith sighed. in his twenties.S. Trouble is.” “He’s right. for us to read it.” the man said to the attractive. “Hello again. not saying a word to her until they started on some hot coffee delivered by a cheery waitress. “Yeah.” “Did you bring any of the sheets with you?” “Of course not.” “You think it’s invisible ink. Filberg. “You don’t know Chapman.” “With what’s happening over in Europe. getting along?” “Swamped.” She looked around. “Why not?” “I couldn’t chance it.” she replied. Mr. then the 66 .” “Don’t I know it. Once we do that. That’s why I called him. How could I bring anything with me? Fold it up? Even the slightest crease or fold in one of those papers.” Smith leaned forward. Could be milk.” He was surprised. I guess you’re right. Bill.
I wonder what’s coming off? Anyway.” “When?” Smith asked. But I have to get into your bank to see the file.” “No. Aris sipped her steaming mug of coffee. we’re laughing. we can’t.” 67 .” “Thank you.” “Yes.” Smith smiled wide. “The next occasion that Chapman leaves.S.writing stays visible. So.” He shrugged. Put ourselves in Chapman’s shoes. the ones used in a photo darkroom. good work. If that’s the case.” “Unless it’s read through a filter.” “I’ll wait for your call. We can’t put the papers back in the file like that. Filberg. maybe he reads it through a filter. you’re not supposed to read it.” “What kind of filter?” “Could be a common red safety type. the huge German munitions conglomerate. “What’s so amusing?” “Quite the coincidence that your bank – a red-blooded American bank – has a file on I. “Chances are that might be the case here. you would. He’d have to access the material every so often. At the same time.
Herr Reichsfuehrer. Berlin – August 1 Heinrich Himmler pressed the silver-framed pincenez to the bridge of his nose and punched his intercom button firmly.” “I understand. That was enough for Hitler to seek revenge and retribution.” “When he does. Response would have to be swift. No one of consequence could be spared. I want to see him at once. 68 . he hasn’t.” answered the alert male adjutant in earnest. “Yawohl. “Has Hans Schmidt arrived yet?” “No. Herr Reichsfuehrer.” Himmler wrote in his date book: 16:45. regardless of who else is in the appointment slot. Reichsfuehrer-SS Heinrich Himmler had been methodical in his approach to the Hess case. Spoke with adjutant concerning Schmidt. The Fuehrer said that Hess had intended to hand the British the plans for Operation Barbarossa.CHAPTER FIVE Gestapo Headquarters. Herr Reichsfuehrer. The last ten weeks. Heads would have to roll.
He was still in custody. The dreamy idiot. X. Most had been released by now. the therapists – who had treated him. Albrecht’s father. Their friends. Albrecht Haushofer was one of the first put out of circulation. They were promptly arrested. He wondered if she knew of her husband’s guarded background. Number 16..That pleased Himmler. 69 . It didn’t matter now. So were many of their friends and associates.. then freed.. the former chicken farmer had stretched his tentacles and systematically directed the fate of the Deputy Fuehrer’s medical and physiological doctors – the mediums. He was the true law of the land who held the power of life and death over Germany and her conquered territories. All were interrogated. Professor-General Karl Haushofer. X. was brought in. So were their assistants. Hess’s wife remained unscathed. He was Number 15 on the list. The homosexual. Himmler had drawn up a numbered list and marked X’s beside each name. drilled.. And the astrologers Hess had kept strange company with. Himmler took to the new assignment with his usual structured energy and terror. tucked away in prison writing sonnets to amuse himself. With a stroke of his gold pen. the homosexual ring he belonged to in Munich. the renowned father of Geopolitics. Their associates. for it was he who would carry out Hitler’s decrees in the form of national emergencies. Or did it? X... the doctors. under Himmler’s watchful eye.
A black Mercedes would pull up and throw him in. In the resulting shield of confusion and paranoia. It was Bormann’s idea to officially announce Hess’s assumed mental illness before really thinking the whole thing through. by the Fuehrer’s orders. one day . Then he’d vanish. once the news broke of the Hess 70 . But that would be going a bit too far. . 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. and that he had been harnessed by the British influence at an early age. A great and wonderful X by Bormann’s name. soon. He’d be Number 1 on a future list. including the designers of the ME-110. But a little scare wouldn’t hurt. The German people were now saying that a crazy man had been second to Hitler. That was fine with Himmler. . Himmler promised himself that he would get Bormann . . Hess’s former chief of staff. bloated rat with a criminal record past. whom Himmler could easily lie to for the sake of national security. The airport and Messerschmitt factory staff. Without a trace. Like so many others. Himmler was accountable to no one. Himmler wished he could have arrested the entire Augsburg personnel too. Martin Bormann. had taken over all of the Deputy Fuehrer’s former duties. a country under British control.The criminal. except Hitler. Bormann was just a slimy.
X . Mutilated bodies of relatives and in-laws were piled near a lake shoreline. X . In two separate incidents. his mountain resort in Southern Germany.flight to Scotland. X.. . 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. doused with gasoline. lit.. Only Schubert knew that name. and 71 . Number 25.. . Age was of no consequence. Himmler still wondered who the man in British custody was. His latest plan to rid Germany of Hitler was sound. . Schubert’s married daughters. Seven X’s.. every day since May 13.” Himmler was now about to make contact with the American Embassy in Berlin... More X’s. taken outside her home and axed to death.. Nieces and nephews strangled. The BBC broadcast stated that he first gave his name as Captain Alfred Horn. was bound in the middle of the night. within forty minutes of each other. X. Aunts and uncles in the family were bound and drowned. their husbands and their children were all shot through the head in their living rooms. Schubert’s wife. . and burned into the sand.. Even so. Kidnap his syphilitic highness on one of his next visits to Berghof.
. **** 72 . The German Secret Service headed by Admiral Wilhelm Canaris was one such agency destined to fall. counterespionage. Hitler was too naive. . But to Himmler. He would demand absolute obedience to the state. The biggest X of all . the air-raid shelters. He would be the master spy of the super intelligence network that would devour the others. With Hitler out of the picture. The details were sealed away in a letter that Himmler would courier to an important American official close to his Ambassador. less than two hundred miles west. a letter that was presently tucked in a safe inside his first floor office at Gestapo Headquarters there at 4 Prinz Albrechtstrasse. his messy chocolates. The various organizations and agencies of the Third Reich would fall under his control. Canaris’s days were numbered. He didn’t trust them. He hated spies. his useless wall maps. spying meant everything in the grand scheme of things. and the other outbuildings for the good of the Gestapo. the Gestapo leader would be the most powerful man on the continent. and spying was of little importance to him. The state in one word would be . . the mighty Fuehrer himself. No more of the Fuehrer’s pathetic birds. The grand Fuehrermaster. Himmler could easily confiscate Berghof and make use of the huge compound. Found them too double-hearted. . Espionage. the residence. Spying was his lifeblood. Adolf Hitler. Him. Heinrich Himmler.whisk him off to Switzerland.
Falcon. He remembered a submarine trip. I am the Deputy Fuehrer . and put his head on the table. once she knew who he was. The one who came to my cell. They clicked their heels. She should. I know the Fuehrer’s innermost thoughts. then his entire body off the bed. The Englishman told me the same thing. They told me I did. He was trying to confuse me. sat. They bowed. They knew who he was. Or is that my name? 73 . . pretending he was on his feet. He walked across the floor. Then by Reichsfuehrer. Why not? I am Rudolf Hess . He stiffened to attention in the chair. closed his eyes. She was surprised to see him. . He knew the British were trying to drive him mad . Who told me? The Englishwoman.Camp Z Prisoner Z lifted his head and chest. because after every meal he felt a warming sensation on the nape of his neck. He was confident it was the food. lifting his head. . I am Rudolf Hess . It was a struggle. But he called me Schubert. But she knew who he was on sight. He read it in her pretty face. They saluted. . They treated him with great respect. . . the dark-haired woman on the beach called him by a codename. wrestling with the throbbing in his head. and there was nothing he could do about it. . . I am the Deputy Fuehrer. Where was he going? The sailors and officers were calling him Reichsfuehrer.
I am grateful for your speediness in receiving me. Hans Schmidt is here. that it made you leave the sanctity of your beloved Lisbon?” Himmler beckoned his visitor. “Herr Reichsfuehrer. arm out like a ramrod. clicking his heels. “What do you feel is so important. “Then leave us alone. Don’t be shy. Herr Schmidt.No. . He ignored the dizziness and the discomfort of the cast on his left thigh. Herr Reichsfuehrer. I know the Fuehrer’s innermost thoughts. “Herr Reichsfuehrer.” “Show him in.” Himmler instructed his adjutant.” 74 . he said.” The adjutant bowed. Sieg Heil! Sieg Heil! I am Rudolf Hess . “Come. “Heil Hitler!” “Heil Hitler. **** Gestapo Headquarters Himmler peered up from the lenses of his pince-nez. He stood and saluted. “Yawohl. Some recent information has come to my attention that I felt I had to report to you in person.” Himmler wrote the time of Schmidt’s arrival in the date book. In a shaky voice. .” Schmidt stepped in and saluted the man with the smile and thin moustache in the black Reichsfuehrer SS uniform. Come closer.” The agent walked up and came to an abrupt halt. looking straight ahead. I am the Deputy Fuehrer.
He said that . controlled shockwave hit Himmler. Of course. have. Herr Schmidt. Totally ridiculous! You booked a Lufthansa 75 . I said Hess was pronounced crazy by the Fuehrer and that we are the masters of—” “Never mind what you said. you. . . . . Herr Reichsfuehrer. “What!” The agent stepped back. “He said that he was deserting the sinking ship.. “Hess?” “Yawohl. Schmidt! Tell me what it is.Himmler folded his hands over his desk papers.” “What about the fool?” Schmidt licked his lips before going on.” A sudden.” “I’m surprised at you! That is ridiculous. understand the unpleasantness of it. and smiled. And the difficulty for me to say what—” “Never mind the speech. Herr Reichsfuehrer . his eyes piercing. some . have .” “You must . “That’s what he said.” “Have what? Spit it out!” “Have aspirations to oust Adolf Hitler and be the Fuehrer yourself.” Himmler felt a twinge in his spine.” The agent clicked his heels. rumors since Hess’s flight to Scotland. . “A British Secret Service agent in Portugal approached me and said there’s been . . . He jumped from his chair and stood face to face with Schmidt. He said it came from a good source. “Go on. . . . I’m a busy man. What did he say?” “He said there was turmoil in our High Command. . ..
Ignore these Englishmen. Do you understand me?” 76 .” “I forbid you to discuss this outside this room!” “Yes.” “Yes. of course I knew that—” “Have you told anyone else?” “Oh. Never! It is ludicrous to even think of it. . his eyes frightened.” The agent winced. Herr Reichsfuehrer. I would never do anything to the Fuehrer. You went on his word? The word of an Englishman?” “Well. .flight and came all that way to tell me that! I wouldn’t do any such thing to the Fuehrer. “No one. no.” “What was his source? Did he have documentation? Any confirmation?” “Well .” “How very interesting. I—” “Don’t you realize how utterly stupid you sound? We’re at war with these people.” Schmidt shook his head violently. Never.” “You didn’t see any papers?” “No. no. I did feel obliged to inform you of it. They will try anything to turn us against each other. He did not. “I realize that. Herr Reichsfuehrer. Don’t you see what the British are trying to do? They are desperate. Herr Reichsfuehrer. Herr Reichsfuehrer. and large.” “To anyone! And avoid any similar situations at all costs. Herr Reichsfuehrer.
But he had to. Return to your duties in Portugal and make yourself useful. Of course. you are. Himmler had disposed of Geis over the Hess mission. He had been forced to do nothing to Schmidt. Herr Reichsfuehrer. “Very well.” Himmler showed him the door. I will not. He couldn’t snuff 77 . Schmidt was another matter entirely. “Yes. He blinked once. Herr Reichsfuehrer?” “Nothing!” Himmler exploded. “What does he mean by that. Schmidt. “Heil Hitler!” Himmler swung around.” Himmler turned away. outside of intimidating him.” “As you say. He let Hess get away in a substitute aircraft. And don’t listen to any more silly rumors. “Nothing at all! The British don’t know anything. Herr Reichsfuehrer. They made a fool of you.” Himmler stared into the agent’s face. Herr Reichsfuehrer.” Schmidt’s voice was barely audible. inches away.Schmidt nodded. How dare you! Dismiss. Are you going to let them do it again?” “No. Herr Reichsfuehrer. Go. But there is one other point that the British agent brought up. Schmidt clicked off an arm salute. I am sorry to bother you. stabbing a finger an inch from Schmidt’s face. He was too valuable. arm outstretched.” “Yes. “Heil Hitler. yes. the bumbling imbecile. “Well!” “He said that they know what we have planned for the Jews.” Looking relieved.
heavy gold-colored drapes. he took a long bus trip over the Canadian border into Montreal under the cover of official U. Besides. **** Montreal. tossing his fedora into a chair. man. he found time to play some tennis with his younger brother. “This is living. and the wide dance stage on the top floor. Quebec.” Hollinger said to himself. the elegant dining room. Hollinger was impressed with everything. and flopping backwards onto the soft bed. including the fancy lobby. Donovan had told him.S.him out. Today. Behind the 78 . and check out two of the girls he remembered. Canada The Kid checked into his room at the Mount Royal Hotel that evening. It was in this case. from his White House briefing with the President on the status of Great Britain and the Hess mission. they could be testing others. Any good cover had to be at least close to the truth. From what he had seen of the other parts of the city’s plush hotel. with a large window. Government business. It was spacious. he had stopped in at a book store and noticed an English translation of Adolf Hitler’s Mein Kampf. Two days had gone in a flash. to surprising his parents in Rochester with a visit. Hollinger bought it. He couldn’t kill them all. and a huge double bed. On the way to the hotel. Back home. if the British were testing one German agent.
Come on.” “It’s OK.” “Yeah. New York. The Lend-Lease observer. A knock at the door sprang Hollinger off the bed.counter stood a blonde woman. She was pretty. Nice legs too. amused at his own cover.” “Stick close.” “Why not?” 79 . you’re the government man. So. “Can’t do anything in a hotel room by yourself. “Quite the place. and a leather flying jacket entered. white shirt. You?” “Rochester.” Hollinger said. The door’s open.” “Lead the way. wearing dress slacks. Ohio.” They shook hands.” A thick-set man in his thirties. Especially the blondes. I like it.” “Where you from?” “Cincinnati. You’re my pilot. The pilot looked at Hollinger’s well-cut suit. Don’t get into any arguments with Frenchmen. aren’t you?” “You got it. tie. “Larry Waden. “I’m Wesley Hollinger.” Waden lit a cigarette.” Hollinger told him. like Robbie. that’s right. You’re American. here. He found he was always thinking of Roberta Langford now. “You Hollinger?” “That’s me. Pleased to meet you. We’ll show you the spots uptown. though. “Come in. Montreal women that he had seen so far weren’t too bad. The woman had smiled and he smiled back as he took the book and the change. Larry.
“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.
” the man said. ‘Tis foul weather it is.” 97 . “Ere comes the rain. Jack Buford. He soon struck up a conversation with one of the counter patrons. Yeah. Right about here.” “How do you know that?” “We picked up a signal on our set last month.” “Really?” Waden nodded. When he spoke. there has been some mighty peculiar things around here. The story goes that they send daily radio reports to Berlin.“You better believe it. They refuel subs too. The Germans are supposed to have a weather station out here somewhere. red-faced. “Newspaperman. his lips barely moved. son. “It’s funny. Before they come and hit our supply ships on the way to Britain. Stephen Jordan felt like the foreigner that he was. “Some long-range aircraft of theirs have been spotted on occasion. being the only man in the place with a suit and tie. thin patch of gray on his head. 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.” Waden shouted. weather-beaten Scottish fishermen and farmers. nodding. a relaxed middle-aged group of thirsty.” Hollinger was taken aback. eh?” Buford puffed on his pipe. downing the last of the ale in his glass. He was an approachable man about fifty. “Condors.
Hurt himself bad. “Hello there. “Look what the wind blew in. in particular. son?” “The peculiar things around here. wet and dirt-streaked. Outside. thank you.Jordan glanced at the nearest of the windows.” “Thought I’d pop in for a few pints.” Buford chuckled. The inn shook from a blast of thunder.” Buford lowered his voice. shaking the rain off. To fix it up. “Medicinal purposes?” “You bet. That strange Hess flight.” Buford laughed. Charlie. No. cheerfully. yeah. son?” “No. “Where was I. “Oh. You hear a lot of things in a country pub. What about the Hess flight?” “The story is that the moment that plane was tracked.” “What about it?” “You want some more ale.” Charlie replied. in faded work clothes. lightning rolled across the sky. People talk. The man was elderly. Yeah. “Just how peculiar?” Their attention was diverted to a man arriving through the main door. “He slipped and fell off the dock in a rainstorm two weeks back. he said to Jordan. How’s the shoulder?” Out of the side of his mouth. Buford eyed the old man setting himself down across the bar. one of the radar technicians at Edinburgh – his father comes round occasionally – was told that the plane wasn’t to be touched.” “Really?” 98 .
In trench coats.” “Can you vouch for this?” “Can I! I know the man who drove them out.” “You and millions of others. What else?” “Try a stout. “Please. It’ll put hair on your chest. or something or other. Do you remember anything else odd?” “Yeah.” “That a fact?” “He’s sitting just over there. but she was a body nonetheless. Safe passage. son. maybe. What else?” he said.” “What two men? What did they look like?” “English. anxious to get on with it.” 99 . son.” Jordan hated stout.” “A safe passage? Who has the power to do such a thing?” “I can’t answer that. I often wonder what that Hess fellow really was doing here. They rented a boat one afternoon and took to the Firth. Like you. Who knows? The Secret Service. A body. “Two men threw a body into the Firth a few miles from here. “A body?” “Yeah.” he whispered. Buford looked around. That’s what I said. Maybe that Nazi-loving sonof-a-bitch Duke of Hamilton fellow or someone higher than him. You sure you don’t want another pint of ale?” “I’m sure. It was in a crate. Bennie Warner’s his name. son.Buford nodded. “Really. there was.
what about that crate?” the writer asked.” They got out of their seats and crossed the floor. by himself. Warner looked Buford’s age. and they threw a crate in the water. Jack. “Tell him Bennie. Come on over. “Buy me another bitter and I might be forced to loosen me tongue. He promises not to print anything.” “Didn’t I tell you.” Jordan answered. Laddie. “Just want to tie up some loose ends. and no one said another word until the filled glasses were brought over. He quickly ordered a round of drinks. Buford made the introductions. They don’t know where to find you.“Where?” “The one in the corner. “Now.” Warner belched. about the crate.” Buford urged his friend. Bennie. 100 .” “Come on.” “They won’t do anything. but this Jordan fellow seems to be all right. “What’s to tell? Two men I never saw before paid me to take em into the Firth.” That was good enough for Jordan. He had finished his third drink and was on his fourth rolled cigarette. “But they threatened me. not to blab it?” “I know. The three sat down together.” “What kind of crate?” Jordan asked.” “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.
one of the gentlemen said. 101 .” “Aye. Buford here. toasting his bitter with the men. “Cheers.” Bennie replied. I promise not to print anything. Your names won’t be mentioned anywhere. “I didn’t look at her.” Warner sipped his drink. ‘So long. “And me. make sure they aren’t. “Thank you.” “Me too. anything like that. it was a German body?” “How the bloody hell should I know. If you hear anything. But when she went over.” Buford said. They paid me good.’ The other one with him told him to shut up.” “Your friend. said there might have been a body in there. “Or there be a great deal of trouble for me.” “So. mister.“Long. He was growing increasingly nervous. Laddie. Kraut. then drank. give me a ring in London. and they told me to zip my lip. Mr. If she was a corpse.” Jordan said. You have my word. Bout the size of a coffin. I don’t make of habit of looking at corpses.” Jordan pulled out two business cards and gave them to the fishermen.” “What did you do then?” “I steered em back to shore.” The three clinked glasses.
.” Waden said to Hollinger standing behind him in the cockpit. sliding under the nose glass. banking the aircraft. his oxygen plugged in and checked periodically by the radio operator for possible failure. “Prestwick. The Scottish Lowlands. and went. 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. roaring over Glasgow on a southwest course. hungry. Once they made landfall at the Scottish coast. next stop. Hollinger dozed in the radio room. loomed straight ahead through a smoky haze. Most of the way. One Firth of Clyde trawler came . 102 . the final stop for RAF Ferry Command. and had to use the washrooms something fierce.CHAPTER EIGHT West Coast of Scotland Islands disappeared a thousand feet below. They were tired. heading for the open country. He called Prestwick tower for an altimeter setting and landing instructions. The crew were anxious to touch ground. cold. Then another. .
. “Landing gear down.” “Intercoolers?” “Open. Liberators. He stepped back to the edge of the bulkhead and sat down. the concrete runways of Prestwick airport were clear for the landing.” “Cowl flaps?” “As required. head on his knees. DC-3’s. The aircraft shuddered and creaked for a moment. Mixture?” “Auto rich. Hollinger saw other ferried aircraft lined up at dispersal. . Prestwick suddenly poked out of the mist. Throttling back to 155 miles per hour. Waden dropped to full flap. “Wing flaps twenty degrees. It was in this area of Scotland that Felix Schubert had been shot down and forced to bail out three months ago. A good sign.” “Wing de-icers?” “Off.” “Booster pumps?” Bridgewater hit the switches. pressing the landing gear lever.” “Wheels?” “Gear down .Hollinger had to smile. Waden bent down right. “On.” Waden informed the copilot. and locked.” At 135 miles per hour.” On final approach. “Props?” “Twenty-four hundred. “Wing flaps twenty degrees.” the copilot replied. 103 . Hudsons.
the aircraft spun completely around to a full stop. “One-thirty . his head coming to rest at Waden’s boots. followed by the nose wheel. The pungent smell of gas suddenly dominated the cockpit.” The runway reached up for them.” 104 . and get your ass outta here!” he yelled. The left side quickly crumpled under the strain. Full on her belly now. The pilots knew they were in a pickle. jolting from his seat. Lucky for them. The main gear hit the runway with a strange thud and the right side of the aircraft crushed to the concrete. The Liberator slid sideways onto the grass. Hollinger was unconcerned.. Then the two starboard props clanked to an ominous standstill. Hollinger was thrown across the deck. “Get up. screeching across the concrete. while the horrified crew could only watch and ride it out. Hollinger banged his head against the bulkhead. nearly knocking himself out. He turned around. “I’m going. By then. Dazed. the other two props clanged to a dead stop. onetwenty-eight. . Waden and Bridgewater powerless to control the direction of the aircraft. throwing the crew to the right. . pulling Hollinger up with him. Hollinger leaned on an elbow and sniffed.Bridgewater called out the speed. Then it all happened so fast. These guys knew what to do. “Everybody out!” Waden released his straps. tripping over Hollinger. The undercarriage had collapsed! The Liberator pulled to the right..
Winnie wants to see you. “What gives? We won’t get to London till. badly in need of a shave. to the middle of the aircraft. a second apart. What a schedule. colonel?” “Get up. Three hundred miles and a debriefing with the Prime Minister.” Hollinger slid off the bench inside the airport. The men leaped out. “Run!” Waden cried. They managed to get forty feet in the clear when two explosions. bunched together as one. “What are you doing here?” “Change of plans. hurtling them to the ground. How goes it.” “No rest for the wicked. “Yes.” 105 . stretched. and yawned. Churchill awaits us. after midnight.” Hollinger looked at his wrist watch. what. Wesley? There’s work to be done. leaning on the suitcase he had used as a pillow. **** Prestwick Hollinger felt a shove in the ribs and opened his eyes. today. “What the devil are you lying about for. He looked awful.The men scrambled. hell. I came up to give you a lift to London. He rubbed his face. The radio operator kicked open the fuselage door. pipe in mouth. Hop to it. “Thought I’d catch some shuteye.” Lampert ordered. glowering down at him. It was the Judge. rattled their eardrums.” “The Big Guy? Today?” Lampert nodded.
We’ll eat along the way. it was rough. He’s been asking questions around the area we dumped Hess’s body. He hated how the English always understated things. What did he do now?” “He’s snooping. And 106 .” Outside. Prisoner Z at Farnborough. “Not so fast. colonel. “Do you recall that newspaperman I spoke to you about? Jordan?” “Yes. “I heard it was a wee bit of a rough landing. I remember. Lucky for us. sir. He never sleeps. A little too much. rolling down the passenger window part-way to allow the smoke out.” Hollinger sighed. only the navigator had a few scratches.” “All right. “From the Daily Telegraph? The one who’s been writing Churchill to see . We could have been fried if we hadn’t gotten out in time. There was nothing left to salvage. “Yeah.” Hollinger replied.” “Never mind.” No one spoke for several minutes. they piled into Lampert’s Austin and began their long drive south. .” “What happened?” “The undercarriage snapped on landing. I brought along some sandwiches. Before long. Lampert lit his pipe. You should know that by now.“Doesn’t matter. . They figure the locks malfunctioned. sir.” “Yes. Time is of no consequence to Winnie. Come along.” Lampert reached down for Hollinger’s bag. I’m hungry. let’s go.
” “No.” “An interview.” “Is this leading to something?” “We’ve commenced a twenty-four hour shadow on him. “Incidentally.” “Swell.” Lampert asked.” “Tell me. sir.” **** 107 . he’s still thinking up a storm. I saved you the crosswords. I’m asking for a volunteer before I pick you?” “Special duties.he tried putting pressure on the Duke of Hamilton to pull some strings for him. And how’s Donovan?” Hollinger sighed. I’m too busy.” Hollinger grinned. Wesley. He can mix a great martini for breakfast. “Thank you. sir. Of course not. I bet?” “Precisely. “Oh. “By all means. lad.” There was another long pause.” While laid up in the hospital back in May and June. “But don’t do them on company time.” “I’d advise you to take some additional weapons training. is it?” “Correct. he had gotten into the habit of doing the crosswords in the London Times.” Hollinger sighed. “how did you get on with the President?” “You’d like him.” “Interesting. Always coming up with something or another. He had no choice and he knew it.
we presume. what I’m about to tell you can’t leave this room.” “I don’t doubt it.” Smith said.” COI Director Colonel Donovan looked down at the photos in his hands.S. when she was your secretary. Aris. reading. left then right. seeing that it was in their file. I. sir. – August 3 Donovan smiled. Chapman & Company is dealing outright with the Nazis. “We owe it all to Aris. Can’t conduct a war without ball bearings. Now we know that Kerr. But she sure as hell turned some heads in that New York restaurant yesterday.” Donovan spun slightly in his office chair. can you?” “No you can’t. How is she? Still as beautiful as ever?” “I don’t know what she looked like before. What is it?” “You’ve stumbled on a can of worms. “There it is. “Thank you. You must be briefed on some details. “Nice work. “I shudder to think.” “You mean it might not?” “Smith. seated across from the powerful man. He was pleased with Smith’s photos. A twenty million dollar loan to a German ball bearing plant. sir. sir.Washington. 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. Filberg. D.” “Yes. and through the parent German company.C. I heard a few things during my 108 .” “Yes.
I don’t get it. Did you know that they have an American Board of Directors?” “Are you serious?” “Perfectly. and none other than the man who put America on wheels.” “Somehow. Smith.” “Kuhn. Chapman is only a small Wall Street banking firm.” “Well. Henry Ford. At least.” Donovan shrugged.” “Yeah.” “It’s true. What do you know about I.S. This is the world of high finance. Loeb are mainly Jewish. Loeb & Company. sir?” “Kerr. Or I should say I don’t want to. and get this. I can’t really see that. Kuhn. hang onto your hat. “Henry Ford! I don’t believe it. “Probably.” “Who?” “Paul Warburg of Kuhn. You know. small in comparison to the others. a fairly large Wall Street investment house. a third or a quarter the assets of the big Wall Street banking houses.days as a Wall Street lawyer. Why would the Nazi’s go to them? Why not some of the larger outfits?” “Maybe the others weren’t playing ball. “What. I saw things. Also on the board is Charles Mitchell of the Federal Reserve Bank of New York. with strange bedfellows. Filberg?” “It’s a German munitions conglomerate. Loeb.” Smith froze to his chair. eh? I’ve heard of them.” Smith folded his arms. boy.” 109 . when you consider that Chase Bank in Paris has been operating wide open since the Nazi occupation last year.
And the strange thing is. we had better keep an eye on Kerr. Banking ran in the family. isn’t it?” “I’ll say it is. Federal Reserve in 1913. and so promptly. But I thought the Nazis hated Jews. too. Most of the board of the directors on Kerr.” “Thanks for coming. “Sir.“It has?” Donovan nodded. Furnishing the Nazis with loans. these Jewish bankers here couldn’t care less what the Nazis did and are doing to their own people in Europe. was one of the founding fathers of the U. 110 .” Donovan set the photos down on his desktop. I know that through our agents in France.” “I guess not. Smith. Supported Hitler since day one. Keep that under your hat. “You bet it has. William Chapman. from what I can recall. A Nazi sympathizer. damn it.” “With a name change. What gives?” “They got money. Chapman?” “Vincent Chapman? Met him a couple times.” Smith sighed. His uncle.” “Fancy that. Lots of it.” “You mean Aris will. Anyway. he’s Jewish too. Ironic.” “Yes. Weird fellow. what do you know about Aris’s boss. Keep in touch with Aris and me on a regular basis. Chapman. Chapman are Jewish.” “Meanwhile. Vince. sir.” “Is he now.S. she’s our key.
well briefed by the Kid. her quick trot echoing in the corridor.. “Freeze!” Langford screamed. Roberta Langford was always in a hurry. monster. Churchill.” “Hi. you. He waited.then jumped out and yelled. a box in his arms. Hollinger threw his hat on the desk in the Whitehall office allocated him in early July. Aris is married. Smith.Smith stood. Besides.” “Happily?” “Yes. sir. would be on his way to his Atlantic conference with Roosevelt. “And remember. chewing gum.. The prodigal son returneth. “I will. head down.” “What did you do that for?” “Aren’t you glad to see me?” 111 . beautiful. He set the box by his feet and hid in a doorway. Tomorrow.” **** MI-6 Headquarters It was still as hot in London this Saturday as the day he left.” “She sure don’t look it.” “Goodbye. dropping her papers. and took to the corridor. “Wesley! Oh. A twohour private audience with the Prime Minister and a three-hour sleep were behind him now. Hollinger turned a corner and there she was coming his way. she’s too old for you.
I like it better the other way.” he said. Fancy. no.” She curtsied. Executive Assistant Enigma Operations. yes. Don’t you sleep?” With one look.” “But the hair has to go. “Do you now?” He observed her dark-green. By the way. “Under the circumstances. he gave her the impression that sleep was unimportant.” “Only when called upon. folding his arms.” “You think so?” “I do. Too matronly. “Have you done something to your hair? You tied it back.” He laughed. the day before I left?” He leaned on the door frame. “What dinner?” “Remember. I did. “Nice outfit. and high heels with round toes. She had on a trace of lipstick and makeup. But the Colonel said you still work for me. “There you go. broad-shouldered jacket with matching skirt. You know. Didn’t I. gently. I’ve been so busy. “At your flat. too.” 112 . I’m ready for that dinner you promised. I saw your new title on your door. you look ghastly. down on the sides and back. “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. her hand to her chest. I forgot.” “Oh. Rather becoming.” He helped her pick up the papers.She gasped for air.” She put a hand on her hip. touchy. “Thank you. Sorry I asked. up in the front. Besides.
for you. Silly me.” “Incidentally.” Hands in his pockets. I’ll be working late. “I can never get mad at you. it is. rocking on his heels. “A package came for you. You know. I’m holding you to it. Is that all that’s left in England? Organ meats? Next thing you know I’ll be eating haggis.” she sighed.” She shook her head and looked down at the floor. letting loose with a slight grin.” “Don’t be too sure about that. “Atta girl. that. Special delivery.” “Sorry.” “Don’t like the menu?” “Just kidding. he said. On second thought. I didn’t want the enemy to know who you really were. I’ll try and force it down. I wish you hadn’t put Redhead on an official trans-Atlantic cable.” “Tomorrow?” “Tomorrow.” 113 . Honest.”‘ “Then break it.” Hollinger laughed. “For me?” “Yes. You like me.” He bent down to lift the box.He nodded. “Security reasons. deep down inside. OK. “What’s that?” “What’s what? Oh. I was just about to put it on your desk. “Don’t look so enthused. “But I’ll have to break a previous tentative engagement. you’re cracking. What do you say to kidney pie and Yorkshire pudding?” “Oh.” She perked up.” She smiled fully. I could mosey on over tonight.
Be right back. The commando squads are following orders and performing admirably. I’d better take the papers to the colonel. Hollinger was nowhere to be found.“If you’ll excuse me. the box was on her desk. and different shades of lipstick. Thanks for asking. **** Gestapo Headquarters Spy master Heinrich Himmler did his best to stay cool and collected when the Fuehrer telephoned from the Russian Front. six Baby Ruth chocolate bars. In the land of rations and scarce commodities these were a gold mine of treasures. a small bottle of French perfume. how’s the cold?” “Fine. how is that coming along?” 114 . She pushed her anxious hands through the contents – three pairs of silk nylons. When he wanted to be. now. It’s almost gone.” “You’re welcome. She pulled at the wrapping tape and opened the flaps. “Yawohl. some fresh oranges. a tin of American coffee. Her eyes bulged.” “By the way. Shan’t be long. the likes she hadn’t seen since 1939. I have a report. mein Fuehrer.” When Langford returned to her office. five packs of Wrigley’s chewing gum.” “The Jewish problem. What a sweetheart Hollinger was. Bless him.
11:15 – spoke with the Fuehrer on the Jewish problem. Himmler knew the cocksure agent wouldn’t be a pushover like Schmidt or Geis or the others. The 115 .” “Ask Herr Eiser to return at once. “How is our Fuehrer. “Yawohl. just tell Hitler what he wanted to hear.” In a few moments. the paperwork and the blueprints. mein Fuehrer.” “Worried. Merciless. and pressed the intercom. Hydrogen cyanide crystals. mein Fuehrer. Herr Reichsfuehrer. Himmler stared at his resummoned visitor.” “And the chemical? What is it called?” “Zyklon-B. For now. “Yawohl.” **** Himmler hung up. you might say. Herr Reichsfuehrer. Herr Reichsfuehrer.” Adam Eiser dared to show a ragged smile.” Himmler wrote in his date book. Organizing the prisoners into staging areas for transport.” Himmler knew that to be a lie. mein Fuehrer. by the end of the year or early next year. The Filberg organization says it’s an instant kill. “Why the delay?” “It is taking some time for the logistics.” “Yawohl. the bidding.” “Speed it up! There is no place for the unfit.“The special camps will be running at full capacity. and then we have construction of the units.
He was useful. He was one of the few men Himmler respected. Canaris had no choice. the German Secret Service chief. He was fond of inflicting pain and death. Eiser had guts. and had his own unusual code of self-preservation. Canaris was the one who forgot to cover his own tracks. He took the jobs no one else wanted or could do. A mere mention of his intimate relations with known Berlin prostitutes – the evidence in Himmler’s Gestapo dossier – was the convincing factor. thirty-five-year-old agent with the unblinking. Himmler admired snitches who worked for him. and that was to spy on the German Intelligence High Command based in Berlin. He took risks. He worked for money and the Nazi ideals he had cherished since his teenage years. He had acquired the necessary data needed to report to Canaris. 116 . Anyone who could outsmart Admiral Wilhelm Canaris. Himmler convinced Canaris to let Eiser jump to the Gestapo without letting Canaris know that he was the one being spied on the whole time. Himmler’s file on agent Eiser was clear. Recruited by Canaris in 1940. Eiser was a smart snitch who covered his tracks.flamboyant. He was making a very decent living as a “specialist” in a market that catered to his talents. six-foot-four. Eiser had been handed what some would consider a thankless assignment. all the while going straight to Himmler – by his own initiative – and reporting to the Gestapo leader on everything he was telling Canaris. ice-gray eyes was too clever for that. and get away with it he had respect for.
if you don’t mind me asking?” “I. Filberg.” “The business cartel?” “The same. 50. After these two. . You will confine your activities to—” “England?” Himmler nodded. “What exactly did you have in mind. and Roman nose could go. “Yes. . Hats were popular where he was going. He studied Eiser’s features to confirm his evaluation.” Eiser’s eyes gleamed. “I like them already. The first one is your old stomping grounds. . backyard job.S. Nothing could be done about the eyes and deep voice. An interested rich party. And I’ll throw in a bonus. light hair. high cheek bones.” 117 . Herr Eiser. a well-deserved month’s vacation to the Riviera.” “I thought you might.000 pounds sterling in your Zurich account. The second a . All expenses paid.” “The usual fee?” “Better. .The Reichsfuehrer-SS wiped his pince-nez clean.” “Germany?” “You are reading my thoughts. But the long. Eiser looked too Nordic. Much better.” “Who. The first job . Herr Reichsfuehrer?” “Two jobs. prominent jaw. A new donor has stepped forward. Herr Eiser.” “What is the second?” “I’ll get to that. He’d have to start wearing a hat.
I understand. I have a plan.” “I’ve heard of her. Herr Eiser.” “Why is that. you will be in and out.” 118 . as if he asked the question every day. Herr Eiser. The person in custody may not be the genuine article.” “What exactly is my job?” “Kill Party member Rudolf Hess. naturally. she is. “Yes.“England? Germany? Highly unusual. Herr Reichsfuehrer.” “And I’m a wanted man in England.” Eiser didn’t speak for several seconds.” “May I be so bold as to ask why you want him dead. and a perfect cover for you. a new identity.” “Yes. falsified papers. “Kill Hess?” he said. Probably guarded like no other person on all the island. Someone could have inserted an ersatz Hess. Herr Reichsfuehrer?” “Certainly. “I know that too.” “I know that. wouldn’t you say?” Himmler smiled. I hear.” “But he’s in British custody. You know Hess.” Himmler smiled. I wouldn’t get very far.” “Who?” “The British. Herr Reichsfuehrer?” “You’re only contact will be our agent Denise. “Yes. No radio communication with Hamburg once you are there. For the first assignment. And she’s pretty too.
The first meeting was in the Chancellory. to see . December. or me for that matter. Takes only seconds to work. slim. I have to send you somewhere. Herr Reichsfuehrer.” “I thought you might. 1939. Herr Reichsfuehrer. Briefly. .S. “Why is I.” Eiser sat up. He was clever. I know someone who will help you in your identification of the Deputy Fuehrer when the time comes. kill him anyway. I must know one way or the other if the man in Churchill’s hands is Hess or an impostor. .Eiser folded his hands in front of him. But first.” Eiser considered what he was up against. Either way. I met him. bringing Party Member Hess to mind. How will I kill him under the English noses?” “Lethal injection. wore a meticulously-cut uniform with the shiniest black boots. at the Chancellory. Filberg so suddenly interested in Hess?” “It doesn’t concern you. Herr Reichsfuehrer?” 119 . “Yes. But. he dies.” “Kill him?” “He’s crazy.” “Very good. a specialist..” “Yes. Twice. While you’re there.” “But what?” “That was some time ago. Will you still take the first assignment then?” “Of course.” “Where. cool. Don’t worry. “What if he’s the real Hess?” “Simple enough.” “I see. Clear enough?” “Yes. suspicious of anyone too close to the Fuehrer. Hess was tall. isn’t he?” “So the German radio and newspapers say..
bombers. East Prussia His First World War Iron Cross reflected the strong indoor lighting. yogurt.000 Russian aircraft. armor. Herr Eiser?” “What does my backyard job entail?” Eiser laughed. Adolf Hitler began to consume his light lunch of raw vegetables. and within a week ninety percent 120 . and mineral water. Just kidnap him. In the first nine hours of the attack. directing the war against his hated Communist enemy. In 1917. His Blitzkrieg forces were advancing swiftly into the heart of the Bolshevik empire. “What is on your mind. the one he had worked the hardest for. more than twenty years later.” Eiser said.” They stared at each other. he had single-handedly captured enemy soldiers at gunpoint.“A trip over the border. “I see. and infantry. The decoration was the one possession he was most proud of. Switzerland. Since the attack on Russia. “Kill the Fuehrer?” “Oh no. his forces destroyed over 1. coupled with precise radio communication was a well-oiled machine. he found himself spending most of his time here at Wolf’s Lair. The network of fighters. In silence and solitude over his wide map of the Eastern campaign. Nothing like that. his fortified bunker close to the Eastern Front. For onehundred thousand pounds.” **** Rastenburg.
Hitler’s deepest innermost thoughts were directed at the British. They were poking their noses where they didn’t belong. Speed! Lightning war. He allowed the miracle at Dunkirk to take place. They were numskulls. . His heart ached. But they didn’t talk. Speed! . Although Russia was his prime target. Churchill – he is the one who’s poisoned their minds. but stupidly. . and the Duke of Windsor were Hitler’s favorite Englishmen. and declared their unquestionable admiration for the New German Order. Hadn’t they read Mein Kampf? Had he written it in vain? Bolsheviks were the German enemy. It wasn’t any prelude to invasion as Churchill had bellowed in his broadcasts. Lloyd George should be in 121 . England fought the Battle of Britain bravely. and Britain had better stay out of it now. Now they were interfering with his plans for expansion. Speed! . He couldn’t understand why they were still fighting him. Both had visited Germany and Berghof. All Europe was his. There was no point to invading England. They didn’t sign. . not the British.of their front-line aerial strength. It was so useless. David Lloyd George. Britain’s Prime Minister during the Great War. He ordered the panzers to hold up at the beaches to give time for the British to surrender and ink a peace deal. They escaped. They were supposed to be his blood brothers. like the world had never seen before. It was a tactical bluff to lure England to sign a peace pact. Hitler snickered. He had introduced a radical change in tactics in which air power was the key. .
He was already a quarter-way there. Hitler reflected on Hess and the ill-fated flight. Hitler hammered his fist on the table. Churchill’s pawn. 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. Tops. It was the only way now. No negotiated peace. the Fuehrer had decided. Whether the British and Russians had intercepted the plans for Operation Barbarossa or not.power. not his brother George VI. his fingers crinkling the blinds. Only unconditional surrender. it didn’t matter. Hollinger watched every one of her graceful moves. He was counting on a twenty-week campaign to finish off Stalin’s forces. not that Jew-loving Churchill. **** MI-6 Headquarters Hollinger stood at his Whitehall office window and faced the car lot. 122 . And the Duke should be on the throne once more. Then total capitulation. She kissed the officer lightly on the lips and climbed in. you nincompoop. There would be no mercy on them. furious that his peace offer to Churchill was thrown back in his face. Five months. Hess. who had refused the latest generous offer of concessions. It was all going to his plan. Through the slit he saw the RAF officer open the car door for Langford. A beaten Russia would sign.
In the States. too. Langford. With the lipstick he had bought her in Washington! How long had this relationship been going on? What a rail he was. And he did for a time. Then he thought about something. Was the Englishman the previous engagement she would have to break? Hell. Hollinger was taken by Roberta Langford. Why her? There was no denying it. What did she see in the schmuck? At least he had good taste. though. She was probably wearing the nylons he gave her. He closed the blinds. He yawned once more. sleepyhead. But damn. after all the jokes he used to make about redheaded women. closing the blinds and returning to his half-finished crossword. he thought he could forget her. cursing under his breath. Hollinger yawned. 123 . The nerve of her. He was falling for a redhead.The two drove off into the light surface fog.” he mumbled. And a redhead who smoked! “Some guys have all the luck. they kissed. But seeing her again brought back the fervor. Wake up. No great catch on her part. A year ago this would not have been possible.
She had declared herself professionally neutral in 1815. the Munich Special jerked into the train station. Switzerland was a small country wedged between the borders of Germany. although it didn’t stop them from exporting a major portion of her goods to the Third Reich. During off-hours. David Shean was there to greet it. Sunday started out quiet for Shean. she had been growing rich off the Second World War by banking for the Germans. The Swiss deplored the Nazi tactics. and radios. a Mondaythrough-Friday salesman dealing in telephones. and had remained that way ever since. 124 . and France. typewriters. following the end of the Napoleonic Wars. Western countries called the Swiss ‘cynical opportunists’ and ‘renegade Germans’. he was on the lookout for any unusual activity or irregular sort of people in the country that had come to be aptly named as Spy Alley. Italy.CHAPTER NINE Zurich – August 4 With a clank of wheels and a hiss of steam. and surrounded by a natural barrier of mountains. By 1941.
He had a memory for such things. slowly. Brown hair. Twice Lancer turned. hundreds out of the ranks of the Gestapo. Hitler had a thousand agents in Switzerland.Germany criticized them for being a haven for Jews and Marxists. Metal elevators were 125 . No mistake. Six blocks from the station. his eyes searching the storefront windows. Shean kept him within sight at more than forty feet back. carefully. What the bloody hell was Lancer doing here? Shean tucked his newspaper under his arm. The Americans and the British also had hundreds of their own agents in the country and they used their respective embassies for communication channeling. Meanwhile. No hat. took to the street on foot and followed the man. The Swiss had a favorite saying: “Six days a week we work for the Germans. He was in his thirties. Shean expected it both times. Shean was surprised to see Lancer slip through the revolving glass doors of a ten-story office building. 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. and merely kept walking. nonchalantly.” This Sunday. They had a long-standing nickname for him – Acid Man. No one was inside the lobby. On the seventh day we rest and pray for the allies. The sidewalks were moderately busy with morning traffic. But it was the brutal. cold eyes that first pinched a nerve in Shean. On a Sunday? Shean followed. It was Lancer. A crowd was always a good cover. two or three inches over six feet.
“Ring Hollinger for me. London Sunday at the office wasn’t any less busy than any other day. He lit his pipe and the sweet smell of pipe tobacco filled the air. Margaret?” “Yes. When she arrived exactly on time. Colonel Lampert’s secretary would always promptly serve the first tea of the day at 10:30. Shean grunted. sir. looking across the room to the framed pictures of Churchill and King George VI. As was the custom. Immediately. He had lost him.” “What’s that in your mouth? Gum?” “Sure is. Wesley. “Spare me a few moments.” “Sure. I wish to have a word with you.straight ahead. No one was on the stairs to the right. An organized mess. Files littered the floor. From the good ol’ USA. sagging from the weight. No movement by the numbers overtop. Lampert waited patiently. the colonel’s spacious office contained stuffed bookshelves. colonel. Any instructions?” “Tell him to see me here. **** MI-6 Headquarters. would you please.” “Right away. Lampert said to her.” Content with his tea. Hollinger appeared in under a minute. Wrigley’s. Want some?” 126 .
I think I hit the target a couple times.” Lampert demanded. “Yes.“Certainly not. How did you do at the firing range?” “Not bad. based on the Schubert’s peace papers. Maybe we can spark a sudden turn of events that will 127 . I don’t want any gum chewing in my office. Hollinger shrugged. grinning. for the love of—” Hollinger glanced up.” Hollinger lifted his foot and stuck the gum to the side of the shoe. “What’s the matter?” “Never mind. or somebody else’s?” Hollinger laughed and sank in a chair.” “Yours. cracking his knuckles. Nothing out of the ordinary. We want to isolate the Fuehrermaster. “Oh. strapped to a chest holster under his jacket. I think we’re wasting our time. goes home to his wife. If you say so. We’re feeding information to those close to Himmler. Get rid of it. monitor his reaction and see whether the information will climb the ladder. Goes to work. Lampert had two files on his cluttered desk. and Schmidt’s subsequent flight to Berlin. the pistol that had been his companion of late was visible. sir. beneath a bright desk lamp. Or goes out for a few bubblies.” Lampert then walked Hollinger through the SimsSchmidt discussion in Portugal.” “Yes. sir. “Winnie named it Operation Decoy. “How’s the shadowing?” He took a swallow of the tea.” “Keep on him. then goes home to his wife. “Jordan’s a good little boy.
MI-6 out of Zurich. Perhaps cause some infighting or topple it. You know what I mean?” “Wishful thinking. Hey. how about that. Good man. I saw it. if you would. dragging on his pipe.” The American read the tab in the top corner.” Hollinger muttered.” “He’s rather keen on Lawrence Olivier movies.” “By whom?” “Me. It’s just .” He pointed at the picture. “Look at this. in his forties. Maybe his parents didn’t like him. I prefer Clark Gable.” “Who do we have here?” Hollinger asked. “His name is David Shean. the name. Say it fast and it comes out like atomizer. Switzerland. Comes highly recommended.” “Ordinary codename. “Adam Eiser.” “You heard of him?” “No. It wasn’t very good. You know. laying it open for him. “His codename is Lawrence. The American saw the photograph of a man with a receding hairline.” “To each his own. . turning the file his way.trip up the upper echelon of the regime. “Take a look. I hope it doesn’t backfire on you. A Yank in the RAF.” “Why should it?” “You never know. “Yes.” 128 . Better yet.” Lampert moved a file towards Hollinger. .” Lampert frowned. Betty Grable.” “OK. Lampert took the file back and gave Hollinger another.
” “You think someone sent for him?” “Yes. This morning. It’s highly possible because he’s worked primarily for the SD. Then there are master spies. Eiser was in South America.” “You’re kidding. Eiser is the latter. Even if a neutral technician is blackmailed to tap the cable. I’ll explain shortly. let’s get back to the file. it doesn’t matter. Plain-language code. Shean saw him in Zurich. This man’s frightfully good and he’s dangerous.” Hollinger took the sheet from Lampert’s hand. which this is. There are spies.” “What’s unusual about that?” “Last we heard.” 129 . Something significant might be in the offing. A-Man is undoubtedly short for Acid-Man. AMAN IN TOWN. A nickname someone in MI-6 had given Eiser years ago. ARRIVED BY TRAIN.” “How did this Shean get word to you so fast?” “A regular cable. He can get it to us in minutes. HEAD OFFICE SIX FOUR. Codenamed Lancer. It took awhile for it to register on me. shall we. MI-6 has a man at our London cable office. LARRY “What does Aman stand for? Is that a misprint?” “A hard A-sound.” “An uncoded cable? Why?” “They’re quick and easy. The best foreign agent the Germans have. An uncoded transmission is above suspicion if it looks innocent. right?” “I don’t kid. Here. Our agent even changed his codename a tad to Larry. A-Man.“Please.
run by Himmler.” “Anglo-American Fellowship Association. then German Ambassador to Great Britain. Eiser’s in the middle. 1906 in Liverpool and reared there. eh? Did anybody in England not belong to that outfit?” “A few. a dock worker. sir. until he came to a faded photograph of three men in suits. Go on.” “No kidding. But an ardent Nazi. German father.” “Will you keep quiet and let me finish.” Lampert said. Eiser was an only child.” “Sorry.” Hollinger flipped through the half-inch of paperwork.“What’s the SD?” “The Sicherheitsdienst. Mother 130 . Born. A one-time British citizen. The father’s nationality was the dominating factor. Eiser and Jordan knew each other?” “Yes. Their duties cover a wide range of internal surveillance and espionage around the world. “At an Anglo-German Fellowship Association black-tie affair. Getting back to Eiser. and gave Hollinger the data from memory. He’s of mixed decent. Lampert cleared his throat. The secret intelligence and security service arm of the Nazi Party. “That was taken here in London in 1937. “Wait a sec.” Hollinger froze. they did.” “Who’s the cat on the left?” “Joachim von Ribbentrop. British mother.” Pipe in mouth. drinks in their hands. Stephen Jordan to the right.
Two weeks before war broke out in Poland. For years he had made fools of the British. with a certain flair for the dramatics. He reportedly knew Hess and the Haushofers. He had girl friends. His father never remarried. Helped to distribute the English-translated version of the Nazi newspaper. muscle. By then. They let him operate to see who he was making the rounds with. and a new career with Wilhelm Canaris of the German Secret Service. spying. offering his services to the Germans through their Embassy to spy on the British. but never married. he disappeared and wound up in Germany. Besides being illusive. followed by Himmler and the Gestapo and Sicherheitsdienst. The Depression came along. and collected lists of those sympathetic to the Nazi cause. he was an expert at explosives. He had vast contacts in Parliament and Whitehall. assassination. The father died in a work-related accident in 1930.died when he was ten. 131 . schools that his father could barely afford. He had high marks. A lone wolf. He made friends with British newspapermen and businessmen. A real pro. The British knew what he was up to from a source inside the German Embassy. fine music. He was a man of many talents. He drifted from job to job. He had training as a doctor. but dropped out of university after two years. A lover of the arts – the theater. Adam was a firm believer in the National Socialist Party. Joined the British Fascist Movement and the Anglo-German Association. Eiser went to private schools. Volkischer Beobachter. Always at the top five percent of his class.
” “A high-roller. counterespionage. I’d say. The worst kind.” Hollinger flipped the file closed and slid it towards Lampert. “we always know where he’s been. but packs a wallop.” “And he works for money. He had worked mostly in neutral countries. “By using the acid and the dagger.” “I hope I never meet up with him. eh?” “Quite. he knew precisely where to strike. But we’ve never been able to catch him. his nickname of Acid-Man and codename of Lancer. A Nazi of independent thought. then stab them in a main artery behind the ear. The victims choked to death. British-made dagger. Hence.” “My sentiments too. 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. It’s a game he’s played with us for two years. Due to his medical training. He incriminates himself.” “I agree. common to female Secret Service agents. Usually paid in pounds sterling in a Swiss bank.” Lampert said. almost as if he wants to leave clues. He had a distinct style of killing.” “No doubt. Perhaps money will be the death of him one of these times. Lots of it. and sabotage.” 132 . “It sounds as though he enjoys his assignments. when he got the chance at close range. He travels rather light. Most ingenious. His weapon was a thin.espionage.
” “And what about Jordan? It seems a coincidence that we’re tailing Jordan at the same time. codenamed Bradley. Five o’clock came and went. “Not with what my government’s paying me. lad. A mentor of Eiser for a time.” “SD?” asked Hollinger.“I’m glad I won’t have that to tempt me. They’d be closing the building in another thirty minutes.” Hollinger joked. Any significance or connection? Heinemann and Eiser pulling up stakes and moving out. the same week that Eiser is spotted. Thought you should know this information. MI-6 has asked Donovan and your COI for some assistance in that part of the world. huh? Just here for the love of it.” “You too. Edgar Heinemann. Shean 133 .” “Thanks. He just up and vanished.” Lampert smiled slowly. “Maybe. a colleague of his in Brazil disappeared. watching a few faces come and go on this off-day. “Yes. I mean?” “I don’t know. Lampert puffed on his pipe. It’s worth looking into. “Funny.” **** Zurich Shean paced the entrance near the revolving door for the rest of the afternoon. don’t you think?” Hollinger asked.” “Same here. Still no sign. No sign of Eiser. Perhaps. But thought to be retired.
He glanced over at the building’s long directory in block letters on the wall board for the umpteenth time. Dr.” 134 . But the evening wasn’t going well until she brought out the brandy and poured it into two crystal glasses.” She blew out a perfect smoke ring. **** London At the flat. “I ate it. he found two names. and threw his newspaper in a trash can.” “I’m glad you had the decency to leave me a corner.wondered if Eiser. He smirked. She was ladylike and polite. and waited on Hollinger’s every want. She and Hollinger drank and seemed to loosen up quickly. by chance. there boss?” Langford asked. Anyway. Then something finally registered. Out the back. “How did you like the kidney pie. “I couldn’t stop. Under the heading of plastic surgeons. Shean raised himself to his feet. didn’t I. Seissburg. She lit a Player’s. Langford was the perfect hostess. One was German. the Yorkshire pudding was delicious.” “I thought you seemed rather partial to it. There was only one other way Eiser could have left. knew he was being followed. Shean’s footsteps echoed on the marble floor as he strode to the balcony above the entrance. and puffed. You ate over half the pan.
They looked good on her. All right. which was ideal for Langford.” She sighed. You being the hostess and all. Flats were safe again with the Blitz over. I had to. down on the sides and back. “Well. Yes. “Anyone ever tell you that you have nice legs?” Hollinger asked.” “On what? Don’t answer that.” 135 . He liked the way she appeared. “Is this relevant?” “Depends. one-bedroom flat was on the first floor in an unbombed area of London within walking distance of MI-6 Headquarters. The comfortably-furnished. You’ve told me. But who’s counting?” “You are one rather tactless man. 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.” They retired to a long brocaded sofa in the small living room. He was not surprised to see that she had on a pair of the American-bought nylons. Her hair was up in the front. “Fancy that. Hollinger watched as Langford kicked off her shoes and crossed her legs. I think. Three times. Thought I’d try a new French brand that someone gave me. She was wearing a white. silk blouse and stylish blue skirt that showed off her slim waist and shapely figure.” “Yes. I am.” “Yes. You changed your perfume. taking their brandy with them.He shrugged.
As the American talked.” “Maybe you will someday. and he knows it. after a little threat. including the inside of the Oval Office. We’re part-way there already. he could be impeached for breaking the neutrality laws. There’s something I can tell my grandchildren.” 136 . hobnobbing with Churchill and with Roosevelt.” “Schubert? Yeah. yes. “The President is in-the-know now. I haven’t even met Churchill. probably not. yet. “I’m told the colonel says our prisoner is cooperating. Roosevelt’s in a jam. without the people’s support. Will the German plans for domination make you Americans fight for us?” “Not that by itself. You really are precious.” “Splendid.” Hollinger answered. Then he got to the martinis. If he goes too far in aiding Britain. Eleven o’clock.” “You have to get married first. in your case. . in the morning?” “Yep. . And he has the full lowdown on the peace papers. he noticed Langford’s eyelids drooping and her forehead starting to crease.” “Why do you say that?” “Because you’ve been to 10 Downing Street and the White House. “You had martinis with the President . About the impostor. Then again. making her grin.” Hollinger went on to describe in detail the rest of the meeting and what he remembered of the White House. is he?” “Oh.He grinned.
“He’s a perfect gentleman.” “He’s a nice man. “I’m feeling a .” “I know I shan’t.” She attempted a smile. “I hope he’s treating you well. something like that..” “Protect my virtue. . I’ll try and get you in. Must you know so much about me?” “What about that beanpole of a flyboy?” “Then you do know?” She paused. . thank you very much. If he gives you any trouble. “Look. “I dunno. Hollinger wanted to say. let me know.. . “Are you seeing anyone?” “Maybe.” He scratched his chin.” She gave him a slight smile. . “That’s nice. will you?” “Yeah. you know.” “He is.” 137 .” “Good grief! You were assuming.” “You’re not . Why little old me?” He shrugged.” She massaged her temple and grimaced. It might happen. I know the evening’s still young and all that. but you don’t look that well. headache coming on.” Her eyes burnt into his.“I doubt it. “Everybody does.” “Pregnant? Certainly not!” Her hand went to her hip.” Which means he’s boring as hell. I’ll run along. Maybe I’ll relax and read a new book I bought.” Hollinger pictured them kissing in the parking lot. “Just asking. The office is talking about it. “More brandy?” “No thanks.
She liked to pretend she didn’t like it. “Thank you.” As she began to close the door on him. ta.” he told her. They looked into each other’s eyes.” She walked him to the door. Mein Kampf?” “Yes. I hope you feel better soon. He stared at the chipped door. Ta. I hope so too.” “You’re joking.” Hollinger stood.” “Oh. you’re just saying that. Hitler’s. she said through the crack. Although only 138 . Of course. “I’ll see you at the office.” In the hall. Hitler’s book of bent ideology. “Till tomorrow.” “Ah. followed by Langford.” “Adios. “I want to see for myself what he says in it. Was he too abrupt with her? Nah. I am. she thrived on that. It’s what kept her charged in a man’s world.” “Why on earth would you want to read that?” She felt her forehead. Hollinger fumbled with his hat. “Hitler’s Mein Kampf!” “No Churchill’s. Hollinger didn’t move for several moments. one-bedroom on the fourth floor with connecting living room and kitchen. It was a deep mystery to him why he couldn’t get to first base with her.“Which one?” “Mein Kampf. boss.” “It’s been lovely. really.” “I’m sorry if I upset you. What the hell was it then? His flat was a roomy.” “Yes.
two miles from Langford’s place. Like a mule. So outgoing. then curled into his chair with Mein Kampf. And not one to mince words. He first put on a pot of strong American coffee. A brain. What a woman. opened the book to the first page. Then he met Roberta. She was really quite a knockout. and began to read. Inside. she probably could be. like Roberta. that he didn’t like redheads before he came to England. And so doggone stubborn. If any woman could be an iron ass. Strange. She was no pushover. Pretty. So intelligent. 139 . it was in a better end of town and offered a brilliant view of the city on two sides. Hollinger did exactly what he told Langford he’d do. He thought back to the blonde counter woman in Montreal who sold him the book. Hollinger shook his head.
Roosevelt’s love for the open water continued unabated as the current reigning Commander-in-Chief. The President arranged himself in his wheelchair. Roosevelt had been in office eight turbulent years. cloudy. Gathered in a group of military brass and civilians. He relished the sea aroma this dull. misty morning at 0900 hours aboard the pitching deck of the American battleship cruiser USS Augusta. he watched with the others as one to the east in anticipation of Churchill’s ship. The ship beneath him had been cleaned to perfection. with a brown hat. He drained his hot mug of coffee. beneath a set of long. Newfoundland – August 9 The President inhaled the brackish.CHAPTER TEN Argentia Bay. gray guns pointed across the Bay to the green hills beyond. set to arrive in minutes. After taking the oath in the midst of the Great Depres140 . he was the Assistant Secretary of the Navy. damp air. Ready to receive the British Prime Minister. In the First World War. and asked his son for a fill-up. the waves lapping against the hull. the President wore his leg braces over a brown suit.
NRA. And he became FDR. Farmers and city workers couldn’t pay their mortgages. CWA. that he had made government too powerful. labeled by their three-lettered initials – CCC. He placed federal controls on business. Roosevelt made bold strides in legislation to combat the bad times.” At the time. He spent billions on relief and public works programs. He hoped that Churchill would understand that. Five thousand banking institutions collapsed the day before Roosevelt’s inauguration on March 4. he had informed his nation. At last. WPA. He quickly became the President who people either loved to love or loved to hate. For the first six years of his administration. an officer spotted two ships steaming towards them. Since 1939. Thousands of banks were closing their doors. FDR’s goal was to prop America back on its feet again. and Hitler’s attack on Poland. Conservative-minded people said he had gone too far. Government agencies shot up overnight. But he knew that to convince the British leader of America’s sincerity might be tougher than any opposition the President had to face in implementing the New Deal. he was an outsider looking in. one of every four workers was jobless. the President had been concentrating his efforts on the war. Trouble was. TVA. 141 .sion. 1933. “The only thing to fear is fear itself. But the common man adored him. Thousands were standing in bread lines.
They laughed. with gray camouflage that blended into the sea. supported by his son. squatty. The President had made up his mind that he would not greet his long-distance ally sitting down. the hum of their engines drawing closer by the second.“Looks like the British delegation now. The Augusta replied in earnest with God Save the King. Roosevelt and Churchill would finally meet for the first time. dad. Roosevelt saw Churchill right off – short. dressed in Navy blue. Churchill’s fleet had been dodging German wolfpacks at sea for five days. They both had to set up sophisticated screens to confer here.” “Now where have I heard that before. opposite Newfoundland’s shores. after two years of correspondence. far bigger than the others. and stood. Someone pushed the wheelchair off to the side. the war-weary Prince of Wales had blasted the Bismarck to the bottom of the sea. “I wonder what Churchill’s like? Some say he’s a bully. Then a fourth ship. causing the American cruiser to rock gently. his eyes moving up to his son. HMS Prince of Wales. They were destroyers. holding to the rail with both hands.” Elliott Roosevelt said. split through the three and chugged alongside the Augusta.” the President said. Just that May. 142 . A host of men stood on the deck. Roosevelt set his coffee down. Her band aboard quickly struck up The Star-Spangled Banner. The ship’s paint was peeling and parts of her showed rust. cigar in mouth. Three ships burst through the surface mist.
Flashbulbs popped. Mother Churchill’s home country. A pleader in desperate need of munitions help. U-boat sinkings. A meeting of the political giants that cemented a kinship on the spot. the two giants were finally alone. IN THE PRESIDENT’S SUITE THAT EVENING. they discussed the plight of the Soviet Union. Commander in Chief of the United States of America. for the sake of the military advisers and civilian staffs. seated around a table.” Both ships anchored. The British boatswain on the Prince of Wales cried out. with his entourage. landing craft – for the far-off day when Britain would invade the European continent – and current British-American relations. but a pleader. Churchill stepped onto the Augusta. Lend-Lease. Roosevelt towered above the Prime Minister. with a mutual friend – a bottle of vintage French wine. Now it was time to be direct. Franklin Delano Roosevelt. 143 . Earlier that day. The two leaders shook hands for the photographers. Winston Spencer Churchill.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. “Fall in for entering harbor. This was history. It was more than plain to everyone concerned that Churchill had come not only as a leader. Lord of the British Empire. At eleven hundred hours. As far as the American public was concerned. the President was taking a well-deserved rest – a little R-and-R – near Cape Cod.
” Churchill laughed. We’re finding out new things about him all the time. He’s a washed-out Luftwaffe pilot. “He’s .“I’m impressed by your man.” “The man you have locked up.” “What an idea! We should try something like that. Good man. Hollinger. . that right?” The President puffed on his cigarette. Hess used him as his double in the elections during the Nazi’s rise to power. . “Quite so. Winston. He said Hess was seeking asylum. The two were able to make the same speech on the same day in different cities. “Could be. besides his name? What is it?” “Felix Schubert. “I’m sure it would have its advantages. A truck driver sent by Himmler. we realized we had a Hess double.” “Give him lots to do. that boy.” “We will. what do you know about him.” “Or just lucky.” Churchill said. “Looking for future executive material?” “Maybe. wine glass in hand. of use to both of us at the present time. Donovan and I want to see what he’s made of. Thanks to Hollinger. Two married daughters.” “More men like him would make Donovan’s job easier.” Churchill rolled the cigar in his palm. cigar in mouth.” the President said. He has a wife.” “How do you know?” 144 .
Private German firms are bidding for the contracts to build the sites.” “Both frightening.” 145 .” “A hundred years!” “That’s the deal I made with those scoundrels who tried to deal with Hitler.” “His papers are. The atomic formulas or the death camps. So we’ve been drugging him with truth serum.. They’re called Commandoes. “I don’t know what disturbs me the most. swallowing a mouthful of wine. The race is on. I promised to protect their good names and all that rot.” The President’s voice trailed off. they do exist.“Schubert himself.” Roosevelt looked grim. They mass murder Russians by the thousand. he didn’t admit he was an impostor. What about these liquidation squads in Russia? Are the facts right?” “Yes. “It’s horrible just thinking about it. “Yes.” “Hollinger said the data was confirmed on the camps.” Churchill nodded. Run by the Gestapo.” “Do they know who you really have?” “Certainly not! And they never will!” “Where’s the real Hess?” “At the bottom of the Firth of Forth. They have no tolerance for prisoners. For the longest time.. except for some as cheap labor.” “How long are you going to keep this Hess thing under wraps?” “A hundred years secrets stamp should do it.
First of all. 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. Stalin could do us a favor. Congress would crucify me. We need help. your government would be welcomed in exile. “In private.” “I know.” 146 . Winston.000 miles at 30. A prototype will be ready in a year. Capable of carrying 10. The biggest bomber ever.“The Nazis are mad. I’ll have to hide our costs somehow.” “With what? No bomber has that range. Pressurized cabins.000 feet.” “Indeed. there’ll be more death camps around the world.” “If the Germans beat us to the atom. I want to know one thing. “Boeing is working on such a project. Including the Royal Family. I’ve said it all along. But that’s only one of our huge expenditures.” “Or die trying.000 pounds of explosives over 3. The world’s first global bomber. The other is those atomic secrets. If we enter the war due to your collapse or for another reason. “I’ll answer your question in two parts. Let’s hope and pray the Russians can put a stop to Hitler for us.” Roosevelt smiled.” Churchill said. When are you going to get into this ruddy war?” “We just can’t go and declare war on Germany without provocation. If England should fall – God forbid – then what?” Roosevelt regarded that. To work together on splitting the atom. our air force would be forced to bomb Europe from bases in Iceland and Newfoundland.
something else on his mind. The President poured more wine for them. “There are no such concessions.“Either way.” “They can’t fight.” “Scout’s honor?” Churchill raised his right hand. “Viva la France.” The suddenness of the loaded question caught Churchill completely unprepared. 147 .” “Is that so?” Churchill’s eyes bore into the President.” Roosevelt wished he could believe his friend.” Roosevelt nodded. “A false rumor. Tell me about Hitler’s concessions. spread by the Germans. “Scout’s honor. it’s a favor. our Embassy in Switzerland sent me a report last month. He stared at the American and said coolly. A sudden twinkle appeared in his eye.” The two greats were silent for a few moments. “Winston. But they make damn good wine.
” “When you’re not napping. “When do you find the time?” Langford asked.CHAPTER ELEVEN London – August 16 They asked for coffee.” he said. I take it?” “Listen.” “Very funny. margarine. What’s another word for arrogant or overbearing?” “How many letters?” “Nine. Hollinger had ordered his coffee black. and selected a table opposite the cafeteria entrance. Hollinger. Only a few scattered chairs were occupied by the in-house male and female staff this Friday. “I need a wake-up. “I got it.” He rubbed his bloodshot eyes. He pulled out the day’s London Times crossword – half filled in. Ends with o-u-s.” She tapped her fingers to her lips. “What’s the problem? I do them here or in the office. It begins with an i. and jam. 148 . Another hot day in London. The windows were open. toast.” “Let me think about it.
Fascinating stuff. he’s schizophrenic. But nearly everything he stated in the book has come to pass. he has a pretty high opinion of himself.” “Speak for yourself. “Must you be so noisy?” “Sorry.” “But some of the other things I found distressing. “I stayed up reading the rest of Hitler’s book. “Sounds like someone I know. the things that he had said he would carry out if he became Chancellor.. that’s for damn sure. he believes he is the one true German leader and his National Socialist Party is the one true party.“What’s with you? Couldn’t sleep last night?” she asked. He calls them the Jewish state. It took over a week.” She laughed. You didn’t have to waste your time reading his book. The International Jewish world of finance.” “Anybody could have told you all that rot.” “What do you think of him now?” “For one thing.. and wiped her mouth with a napkin. What did he say?” “Well. granted he wrote the book many years before he came to power.” “Once you sort through a lot of the political clap-trap. But I got through it.” “How nice. He hates Jews.” He folded the crossword up and put it away.” He slurped his coffee. “All right.” “For instance?” She bit into her toast. munched. “OK.” “In particular?” 149 . let’s not start anything. OK.
The Big Guy wasn’t holding the reins.” “I did.” “So right.” “How. a man about thirty sipped his coffee. may I ask?” 150 . this year. Then his army walked into Austria. how could a man physically do it? “Well?” “It’s gets more juicy. He crossed his legs.“The Austrian-German Alliance. it could be obtained at the expense of Russia. Hitler said that if Germany required land. it might have turned out differently.” Langford stared at him. huh? And I think I only scratched the surface. yes. “I need hardly point out that we had a different prime minister then. Otherwise. Once in office. I learned a lot more than you think. I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt. Besides. Peace-in-OurTime Neville Chamberlain.” He looked to the side. He said he would eat the bread of the Eastern hordes. and neither England nor France did a thing to stop him.” “True.” “Next. Too feminine. annexed it for the German Reich. On June 22.” “You really got caught up in it. Hitler started making speeches about how oppressed the Germans who were living in Austria were and that Austria should return to the Fatherland. dearie. I take it. looking straight ahead. that also came true. Hollinger hated it when a man crossed his legs. Amazing. Two tables down.
Try me?” Hollinger downed a mouthful of coffee. From this point on.” Langford put her cup down. “Yesterday? What are you talking about?” “You won’t like it. I read it in his book. Denmark. I did my homework. Especially after yesterday.” “Oh. heaving for a breath. 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.” She leaned to one side. let’s keep our voices low. He had heard that Hitler was willing to hand over five occupied European countries – France.” “If you wish.” he mused. and Holland – for a written promise 151 . “Really.” “Promise?” “I promise. to dig that out?” “No. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you. Her face was a mask. Should I want to tell anybody?” “Yesterday.” He took a deep breath. I didn’t have to. Norway. “Now get this. Hitler is not planning to Germanize the world and take it over.” “You went deep into Hitler’s mind did you. Promise you’ll keep this to yourself. Belgium. Contrary to what many believe.“I never should have read it. good grief!” “Listen. “I’m all ears.
” “Anyway.” “Don’t get cute.” “So.” He grinned wolfishly. So. He’s using them as leverage to get what he’s really wanted all along. my lady. He never wanted the other countries. How do we know the British aren’t holding anything back? “What could I tell him? I never heard of any peace offer.” 152 . It’s just a rumor. Russia!” “The book again.” “Professor Haushofer’s teachings?” “That’s the fellah. then. getting back to Hitler.” “To conduct such an undertaking against Russia. Think about it. he would need an ally. “I wish I could.” “He’s kept his word. breathlessly.” “Rubbish. You’ve heard of him?” “Yes. what he’s always said in Mein Kampf. his eyebrows bouncing. He was Hess’s Munich University teacher in the days after the First War.” “Not necessarily. It’s all part of the Geopolitic vision for Europe. what did you tell Donovan?” Hollinger dwelled on what was sticking in his craw – Roosevelt’s words. his one ally in Europe – England. Hitler’s always wanted to expand east. you know what else he said in his book?” “I’m waiting. Your precious England. I wouldn’t believe a word of it. You’re pulling my leg.of a truce with Britain and the promise of a free hand in Russia.
he’s always craved an understanding with the British. He’ll do it to us too.” “Take this into consideration.” “Balderdash.” “How well I remember. For a smart person. then attacked him two years later. For the most part. Or something along those lines. in the first person. He’s bluffing. He signed a non-aggression pact with Stalin in 1939.” “I beg your pardon?” “You’re believing your own propaganda. Hitler’s too tied up with Russia.” Waving his hand. “It could still happen. you don’t know a snitch. There was a great and mighty future in an alliance with Britain. I do.” “Shit.“What the devil!” “He said it. A peaceful coexistence. He doesn’t have the guts!” She wiped her mouth.” “Something like that. “Yeah. huh? I doubt it.” 153 .” “Yes.” “You seem to suddenly fancy yourself as an expert on Hitler’s motives. as you might recall. “Hitler’s word isn’t worth you-know-what. The Blitz stopped the night Hess landed in Scotland to talk peace. Hitler invading England across the Channel.” Hollinger leaned forward.” Langford said. Hollinger added. “There would be no sacrifice too great in winning England’s willingness. It’s right there in black and white. sure. With his western flank protected he could then move east on a great Germanic march.
They sent me to the White House to soften up my own President. “Listen. 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.” “Go on. He’s lied.Hollinger fell silent for a moment. How do we 154 . when she had been trampled on and had miscarried.”‘ “What are you saying?” Hollinger hesitated.” Hollinger heard again his President’s voice. May 10th was the night she had been caught in the Luftwaffe raid on London. You know. “My eyes are open. to Roosevelt.” he retreated. And now he’s deliberately drawing my country in this war. Hypothetically.” He shook his head. Robbie. . taking some time to get in gear again. you know. To me. let’s say. They set me up. you found out that a so-called ally – no. I bet you two bucks to ten that the Big Guy never told the Russians about Operation Barbarossa. And to Stalin. A damn stool pigeon for His Honor and the Big Guy.” “He’s lied to us. I . “You might say that. . He’s lied to Roosevelt this week at the Atlantic conference aboard some rusty old ship. to Donovan. of course. . “Forget it. What are you trying to say?” “Churchill let Barbarossa happen to keep the Germans busy in the east. And I fell for it.” “Mere conjecture. suspiciously. “Sorry. . come to think of it. didn’t . What if.
feel that way. “So? Everything you’ve said is circumstantial evidence and is dangerous talk around here. And I march to the tune of different drummers. And another thing.” Langford was livid. “Let me remind you that you are working with and for us. As a cipher analyst. At any rate. and you came up with this. Bordering on treason. the COI. Roosevelt. I heard that Hitler had every chance to annihilate your forces at the Dunkirk beaches last year. Donovan.” “I bet you do.” “I know this isn’t the best thing for British-American relations. Hollinger. But he didn’t. however.know the British aren’t holding anything back? “You know what people are saying about Churchill?” “What is that?” Langford wanted to know. I do appreciate the British hospitality. I’m still an American first. We’re both sworn to the Official Secrets Act. You have no proof of anything. “It’s not only the book. Don’t forget the peace rumor out of Switzerland.” She looked around at the few faces in the room. until her eyes narrowed at him. Your own countrymen. “The only way to fight Hitler is with another Hitler. That’s 155 . my dear.” “Hah! Some analyst.” She backed off a touch. And there’s no sign of any German invasion fleet. Washington. He wanted to sign a peace pact with you. I haven’t been doing much of that of late. “One week of reading. Mr. But let me remind you we are still hypothetically neutral in this war.” Hollinger grunted. On loan.
That’s only what we’re told. “Trust me on this. And England’s part of it. don’t I? What about you?” “You’re forgetting the broken Munich agreement. . He’s certainly not a threat to us in America.” “Listen to me. “Your opinion is so strong that you don’t necessarily believe it.. and the jet aircraft. ‘thou protests too much.” “What are you saying? Hitler’s not a threat?” “In a way. How do we know the papers are legit?” “You’re incorrigible.why. and the Master Race genetic testing. they are. “If they’re on the level..” “Wait a sec.” Langford went on. This is Europe’s problem to sort.” “He did?” “Yes. Robbie.” “To paraphrase own dear William Shakespeare. Well.” 156 .’ ” “Meaning?” Hollinger asked. what about them?” Hollinger hesitated. How did you know about the jets and camps?” “Lampert briefed me on the full details of Hess’s papers. He let you get away to think about it. Then Hess came. methinks.” His hand moved towards her hand.” “According to our foreign agents. and.” “Oh. and . “How can you trust Hitler’s word? What about the extermination camps. With Hitler’s peace. .” “Wise up. touching it.
“End of the year. After that . I need time. well .” “I don’t suppose there’s the slightest possibility in your mind that you’re wrong?” Hollinger stood his ground. . fair..” “What?” 157 . and . “Leave me alone!” “You take offense at my opinions?” “Oh.” Her face turned a deep red.” “Bugger you! Why not ask for the end of the century. “End of the year. “Give me some time on this. please.” She frowned. I. I beg you.” “Promise me. to show that I’m right. I have an opinion. “Oh! Sometimes I could just—!” “I’m not a traitor.” “Them is the breaks. You’re a levelheaded woman.“Based on what? Nothing I’ve heard from you in the last few minutes.” “That’s your prerogative. . “None whatsoever. “We’ll see who’s right.” “I don’t.” Hollinger grunted. the other hand on her hip. and pulled her hand away.. .” Hollinger chuckled.” “How much time?” Hollinger shrugged. . . I thought you’d be one person who would understand. . She fixed him an unconvinced cold stare.” She wasn’t in the mood.” “Robbie.” “This is no way to make friends and influence people. good guess!” “Don’t foam at the mouth or anything.
She stalked off in a huff and a flash of skirt. murmuring something indistinguishable. Hollinger chuckled. I suppose. It fits.” The American found a chair. you buffoon.” “You’re welcome. We still cannot locate Eiser.“I don’t know yet.” She made an attempt to walk away. but stumbled. “I believe the word is imperious. you’re right. “Perhaps.” Then she turned to leave for the second time. “Not now. I shall take my leave of you. Then she returned half a minute later.” She whirled in her seat and bolted to her feet. Hypothetically. She was not Robbie the sweetie now. chin out.” Hollinger pulled the crossword sheet from his breast pocket.” “I’m referring to the puzzle.” she snapped. No pun intended. head high. Every MI-5 agent here in England and MI-6 agent in Europe and 158 . “What was that?” “Nothing!” **** Hollinger spit out his gum and headed to Lampert’s office. “Yeah. “Meantime. It seemed her foot had fallen asleep. We fear he went to Switzerland for plastic surgery to do a job right under our noses. tapping a pen on his desk blotter.” “Oh. Sit down. “Bad news?” Lampert was in his shirt sleeves.” she snapped. Thanks. Wesley. annoyed with herself. too cross with him to speak. “Close the door. “I thought you called me incorrigible.
eh? Lucky bum. when’s the Prime Minister due back in town. in the afternoon. possibly three months. the COI located Edgar Heinemann – Eiser’s tutor – for us.” “Sunday. I called a specialist this morning. Bought a boat ticket for Honolulu. His first order of business was a morning report to the House of Commons. given a doctor of caliber. I wonder what Eiser’s up to?” “Yeah. just before you came in the door.” “I hope his trip was worthwhile. Then. he did. His phone rang. Hawaii. He closed a file and lifted the receiver of the C-phone.” “Geez. “Yes. Wesley.Africa knows his face. By the way. He has to change it if he ever wants to come to this end of the world and we think he will.” “Hawaii.” **** 10 Downing Street – August 18 Churchill had returned to London that morning from his Argentia Bay conference with Roosevelt. he found his way to the underground War Room.” “Where?” “San Francisco. Wesley. It takes two.” “So does he. How long does it take a patient to heal completely?” “Funny you should mention that. Incidentally.” 159 .
We’ll make out as if we don’t know.” Churchill pressed the proper button. sir. Neither he nor Langford know. sir.“We best go on scramble.” “Who?” “Hollinger.” “Thank you. Welcome back. I’m afraid. Colonel Lampert. If we send him home. He has us over a barrel. I think. Whether we told Stalin—” Churchill swore over the line. I don’t know how he does it. Donovan will ask questions. “Do you hear me?” “Yes.” 160 .” “Seems so. “We can’t panic. “What about the May 9th Falcon File transmission?” “Not that I know of. Prime Minister. What’s new with you?” “He knows. At least he has an inkling. We’re stuck with the clod. He was overheard in the cafeteria. I trust?” “Yes and no. Mr.” “Successful.” “You hope. I can keep him busy with projects. He knows why he went to Washington.” “Who told him?” “He figured it all out on his own. sir. The President agreed only to enter the war should Japan attack the Dutch or our own possessions in the East Indies or Malaya. Then Roosevelt will ask Donovan questions. Now what do we do?” Churchill asked.
blasted.” “I can see what this means.” “Oh. Donovan asked Hollinger for verification. If Donovan knows the score. then so does Roosevelt. sir! Hitler’s willing to give up five countries!” “Yes.” “I’m afraid the President does already. The Kid said he hadn’t heard anything. Hitler’s concessions got back to Washington somehow.” 161 .“One other thing.” Churchill admitted for the first time to Lampert. “If we can take him at his word. Five countries. sir. colonel.
he hung it up with clothes pegs on the line with the other photos to dry. and studied it carefully through the small magnifying eyepiece. the Yorktown.CHAPTER TWELVE Honolulu – November 23 He stirred the darkroom tray in his apartment closet. Five prints altogether displayed a low-level panoramic view of Pearl Harbor. Rumors spoke that the carrier Saratoga. would soon join the Hawaiian fleet. From there. when most of the ships were either at anchor or in dock. the Hornet. Hickam Airfield and Ford Island that day. Perfect negatives made perfect prints. the black-and-white images appeared like magic on the last of the eight-by-ten-inch photo papers. were especially distinguishable. Shots of the four carriers. He slipped the sheet into the water tray. He hovered over the final picture. That would make five flattops. 162 . He was a perfectionist. and the Lexington. Under the orange light. Sunday. the Enterprise. an excellent angle of the Harbor entrance. now stateside in California. and eventually to the second tray of water. then the fixer.
One such report was invaluable to the Japanese. radio broadcasts. Poor Heinemann had run himself broke in South America. overlooking the waters. thanks to a German friend who entrusted him to a Japanese diplomat in Rio de Janeiro. at first casually absorbing all he could of the island of Oahu. 52-yearold Edgar Heinemann to drive a cab six days a week. He was utilizing several methods to obtain his information – newspapers. Heinemann. crooked card games. and siphoning bits and pieces from the sailors he picked up nearly every day at the Navy Yard front gate. 163 . The paychecks were meager. codenamed Bradley. Tips weren’t bad.It was an awful comedown for the widowed. though. by conducting his own surveillance of Pearl Harbor and the surrounding area. But the other money was coming in once more. in turn. Then he set out to ferret more detailed information. Arriving in Hawaii in August. The data was then radioed in code to Tokyo. 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. living the socialite life of a rich retiree. Quite handsomely. Bad women. the Japanese Naval Intelligence specializing in espionage in America. and one too many slow horses. happened to be a member of the Japanese Third Bureau Section 5. It was the least favorite cover he ever had to use. took his job seriously. and who. One of the simplest things was to observe the Pearl Harbor activity from an exceptional vantage point – near Spring Tide Restaurant on Aiea Heights. photography.
D. There. But I overheard one name.” “Keep in touch.” “Really?” “Yes.” **** Vichy France – November 24 Inside the compartment. Donovan lifted the receiver of his office phone. he had purchased a set of photos showing an aerial panoramic view of Pearl Harbor and had passed them along to the ConsulGeneral. Mr. Aris?” “Sir. there’s an important meeting underway here. A half-dozen faces I couldn’t recognize.” “Yes.Heinemann had discovered that the American air patrol searches behaved in a predictable pattern. Lydia Harris craned her neck to see the French policeman accompanied by a man in 164 . They used three aircraft per patrol. A local gift shop was Heinemann’s best find. “Yes. It was easy being a spy on Oahu. Bill. and guarded only the north and south approaches to Oahu. sir.” “Who?” “Silsoner. sir. **** Washington.C.
pretending to read a political column in The New York Times. Harris knew enough French to 165 . Bolt upright. “Passports and traveling documents. The French mother and her teenage daughter across from Harris stared ahead. she knew Nazi Germany ran the show. They answered promptly. Harris smiled back. Assuming it would take the latest boarders some time to arrive at her compartment. She had nothing to worry about. and could officially move in and takeover any time they damn well pleased. He was her age. the way they had done when they overwhelmed Northern France in 1940. She could feel the small manila envelope pressing against her spine under her bra strap.” the policeman snapped in French. Tall. He had to be Gestapo. The wind seemed to leave her. Twenty minutes later the door banged open. He asked the three of them questions in perfect French. lost in their thoughts. Although this was the unoccupied neutral section of France. She was above suspicion. Harris dragged on a cigarette. Her nerves tightened. Harris watched as Yellow Hair checked them. Or would they? What about a strip search? She tried not to think about it. Yellow hair.” Mother and daughter showed their ID and documents first. then turned to the older woman. Stiff. All she had to do was stay calm. Beige trenchcoat.plain clothes board the train at the Marseille stopover. The elderly French woman beside her smiled. “S’il vous plait. in tones anxious to please. German. She wished she could appear as unruffled as they were. They wouldn’t dare frisk her there.
A whole lot of skill and some lady luck would have to get her through. Thirty is not very old. Thirty years old?” “That’s right. sir.” She smiled with even. And you’re very German. “Yes. Any other time she would have been dressed to the nines. Says here you’re American?” The German switched to faultless English. A writer. I am. Divorced. too noticed. She gave him the passport and some documentation that he had to fold out.” The woman’s face on the passport – small black and white picture that it was – revealed a very beautiful. Are you married?” “No. I go by my maiden name. Her gray skirt fell a modest few inches below the knee. and left a button or two loose at the top.catch the gist of the conversations. “Although I don’t like to advertise my age. his smile a patronizing put-on. her English friend had warned her – too pretty.” “You Americans are so vain. white teeth. For this trip.” she answered. Harris’s hair was tied back in a bun. “A correspondent for The New York Times. 166 . Then he held his hand out to her. “Born 1911. He was staring hard. right through her face and eyes. All three were on working visas in Vichy. “Lydia Harris. and she wore her reading glasses.” “Yes. a grin on his lips. She had refrained from using her red lipstick and makeup. Her blouse buttons were done up to her neck.” He looked at the occupation on the passport.
different.” she replied. Have a good trip. and shook off both. 167 . She had taken an extreme amount of heat from her peers to get where she was. “It seems to be in order. Yes?” “Yes. “What’s the nature of your business in Vichy?” “I’m traveling to Lisbon. The put-on smile vanished. Miss Harris.almost perfect face. a slight curl to his grin. she wanted to have the courage to say. She forced herself to be polite.” He neatly folded the paper and gave it to her. she was told. She took the pressure and the bed offers.” She said nothing. I haven’t been home in over a year.” The Gestapo man read the paper issued by the American Embassy in Switzerland. and turned his back to the passengers to make a note on his pocket-size writing pad. The envelope felt clammy against her skin. You’re not kidding buster. . He stared at the ID. “Where do you reside. “Zurich.” “And why are you flying to New York?” “A vacation. “Your photo is . .” “It’s rare to see a woman overseas correspondent. . shall we say . “Thank you.” The French policeman left the compartment first. closed the door slowly. She wasn’t just some dumb blonde. Miss Harris?” Stick to the truth. My Embassy in Switzerland reserved a flight on a Pan-American Clipper to New York. The Gestapo agent followed. it is. instead. She had worked so hard to succeed that it had destroyed her marriage. .
Now to the work. touched up with a little white dye around the temples.” Himmler swiped a small piece of paper off his desk and 168 . his eyes glistening. bending down.” “And you found time for a good tan?” “The sun is rather bright on the slopes. I do hope you enjoyed convalescing and biding your time in the Swiss Alps with Freda. scrutinizing him. “Excellent. almost to a brush cut.” “Why.” “You learned to ski. your lady companion. Eiser tapped the hat in his hands. looking closely at Eiser. His hair was cut short. did you?” “Yes. He had grown a moustache. Herr Reichsfuehrer?” Himmler nodded. The only thing the same were the fierce eyes and the bass voice.” “Play time is over. He smiled roughly. She kept me warm at night. Doctor Alfred Seissburg – the hawk-nosed buzzard – had outdone himself. of course. Eiser’s new face was nothing short of miraculous. not two feet away. and filled in flesh below his high cheek bones.” Himmler’s smile faded.**** Gestapo Headquarters Himmler was astonished. Freda was a good teacher. The good doctor had thinned out his Roman nose. delighted. hands on hips. Herr Reichsfuehrer. cut back on his prominent jaw. No surgery marks. “Does it meet with your satisfaction. “They will never recognize you in England. “Waiting the extra month was worth it.” Himmler said.
“I want you to see that person at once. Tonight the airwaves were average to steady at the receiving station. Outside his booth. He knew exactly how she tapped her key. in the red light district of Berlin. his transmitter deathly silent. And he had also slept with her that last night in Hamburg. Why not? He had trained her. sat nineteen other operators each with his or her own frequency range to scan. He had befriended her. “Walter Buhle. Ten minutes to go until Denise reported in. before our Party came to power. I understand. They were very close.” Eiser’s eyes fell on the name and address on the slip.handed it to Eiser. He frequents an establishment called The Pyramid. down the aisle. Dismiss.” **** Hamburg Radio operator Gunther Gruhn enjoyed a cigarette while leaning on the desk top in his soundproof booth. all sets tuned west to England. Who is he?” “He knows Hess from his Munich days. before they had sent her to enemy territory. Gruhn knew everything about the agent Denise. Not much in the way of data from 169 . 1940.” “Just how close?” “They were in one of these all-male organizations a few years ago. Need I say more? That is all.
She heard her call sign. She lined the frequency crystals to one side. Hamburg was clear tonight at the usual 7587 kilocycles. the Morse echoes came. She wished she could warm up with it. curly hair arrived at the deserted two-story house at the water’s edge as she had done routinely once a week for the last several months. She removed her gloves and played with the dial. She reached in for her British-made Mark II Suitcase Transceiver. So far. It was coming in perfect. she 170 . **** Firth of Forth It was a bitterly cold evening. mechanical by now. The dampness was a killer. to the top of the hour. Met reports predicted clear skies through the night.German agents across the North Sea in England. The slim woman with the dark. The set hummed softly as it warmed up. code book. then placed the earphones on her head. In seconds. 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 waited. and switched the power on. The signal should be sharp. Her finger on the key. She waited almost five minutes. She checked the position of the aerial – in place against the wooden window sill. She slid the radio onto the dusty work table by the wobbly chair. Denise’s movements were precise.
Wesley Hollinger took the priority call from His Honor at his apartment this cool... Since his cafeteria conversation with Langford in August. The line went dead.. He laughed to himself... She tapped out her call sign..DLM. the shadow probably knew about the call and held back. **** MI-6 Headquarters It was normally called after-hours. Hollinger didn’t know and he didn’t care. He slammed on his brakes in the car park...DLM.DLM.DLM.DLM.began to transmit her three-letter call sign six times with a consistent tap. It ended with Hamburg’s call sign. Hamburg gave their call sign. The message was a short one. Then again. He stopped at the inter-office pigeon-holes. listening for the reply. She jotted down the dots and dashes crackling over her phones. Hollinger discovered he was being tailed by the same Secret Service he was 171 . got out and trotted along the sandbagged front of the building.. How ironic it was to him. and proceeded down the corridor.. She sat. soggy Sunday evening at dusk and drove his MG pell-mell to the office. DLM.. taking long strides. and WE READ YOU LOUD AND CLEAR in code. if such a term meant anything in this business. He lost his shadow in the downpour. Nothing for him.. He whipped out his MI-6 identification at the door. Too quick for him.
She had put up the proverbial wall between them away from the office. But that was difficult. There’s a development in this other case.” 172 . Hollinger bounded up the stairs. No man could quite clear his mind of Roberta Langford. You’re going to Scotland. But he didn’t mind. And Hollinger hadn’t pressed it.employed by. Langford had kept her word too. It was like a game of Cops-and-Robbers. swivelling in his chair. to the executive section. in fact. Funny thing. was hardly speaking to him at all anymore. Langford. He had tried to clear her from his mind by dating other English women. pipe puffing in his mouth. and unbuttoned his suit jacket. “That was fast.” “Why? What gives?” Hollinger removed his fedora. It was great fun losing his tail and making it look like it was an accident because he was a fast driver anyway. He knocked at the open door and entered. “And in this rain and blackout. using the handrail as support. showing his holster and pistol. He hoped. But not Robbie. He turned into Colonel Lampert’s office. “Our sources picked up a message from Hamburg to Denise.” “What’s up?” “Forget Jordan for the time being. why should I be surprised.” Lampert said. outside of MI-6 work. As far as he knew. Maybe he could forget tattooed Annie Fannie. At this hour it was free of secretaries. Hollinger hadn’t spoken to a soul about Mein Kampf or to anybody about his Churchill accusations since. However.
” “You won’t.” “Sounds like Dunampton all over.” Lampert puffed on his pipe. I’ll send a few men with you.” Lampert took the pipe from his mouth.” 173 . We had to call her out of retirement.” “How many men?” “Four. the MI-5 Twenty Committee?” “I believe so. However did you know?” “I put two-and-two together. The Germans kept asking for her. I thought I wasn’t going to be put in the face of danger again. The Blue Force. That’s precisely what I want you to do. young Wesley. We brought her out of mothballs three weeks ago to trap an agent.” “And you want me to find out if this Tommie is the old Lancer with a new disguise. Night low-level drop.” “You won’t even have to meet him. But I don’t know. We’re going to use her again. He’ll be here in three days.” “Another case for the double cross.“I thought you retired Denise after the last Hess operation. The Germans have a new agent. Operation Decoy. It’s been three months since Lancer disappeared. unlike Hess. That’s time enough for scars to heal from the surgery. yes. “You never cease to amaze me. “We couldn’t.” “Why me?” “We can’t take the chance on briefing any more agents on this Himmler thing. codenamed Tommie.
there. Come for some fun?” 174 .” **** Berlin One glance inside The Pyramid and Adam Eiser knew he had invaded the domain of a homosexual cabaret. now you’re thinking like me. and they wore makeup. It was better than Committee B. They were singing. But never had he asked them for help.“Well. Parading on the spotlighted stage were men in a chorus line dressed up like women. watching the show. This would be a first.” “Damn right. “OK. At the tables. Eiser had spied on homosexuals before. somewhere in Vichy. A hunch.” Lampert grinned. isn’t it. Someone tapped him on the shoulder. and bullied them. I should let you know that Lawrence’s courier is on the way. men had their hands on each other.” Hollinger considered the past.” “Do you suppose the negatives will arrive before Tommie does?” “They’d better. Someone named Harris. But how do you know it has anything to do with Himmler?” “I don’t. and Hut Nine. “Scary. it beats the hum-drum of the office.” “By the way. Two couples were kissing.” “Colonel. “Hi.
” “I think not.” “Very well. and pounded his fist against the door. “Ja?” He stuck an arm across the door frame.” the bodyguard said. “Come on back later. stripped to his waist. with slicked-back hair. Obviously a bodyguard. You might have to wait a few minutes. Knock first. a white shirt. I want to see Buhle. I’m looking for Walter Buhle. Wallace. studying Eiser with a curious eye. Do you know him?” “Oh.” The man pointed. He’s in one of the back rooms.” The muscle man pulled his arm away. He was gray-haired. After a few minutes. with a thin moustache – like Eiser. A man was laid out on a bed. Standing at the entrance was a brute of a man with huge muscles bulging from a white shirt. “You can go in now. until he came to the hallway. His chest was full of tattoos. In his hand was a drink. He was wearing a tuxedo. a young man about twenty came down the hall and walked past the body guard. bald.Eiser glared at a portly man about forty. Eiser found the room. “He’s busy. “Gestapo Headquarters sent me. crooked teeth. “Are you Walter Buhle?” 175 .” Eiser turned and watched the crowd and stage show.” Eiser edged through the crowd of onlookers. and a bowtie. “Come in!” Eiser flung the door open. Third one on the right. “Not especially. I’ll buy you a drink.
Eiser leaned forward. “Sit with me. .” Eiser pulled out a chair. Military and political secrets pass through here.” “What kind of information?” Buhle closed the door. “I don’t know you. It turned his stomach to see that Buhle used nail polish. “The Reichsfuehrer said you . “He said you were close. He smiled. I was one of his favorites. . because we are a great source of information to him and the Gestapo. “Himmler could shut this place down in twenty minutes if he wanted to. you knew Hess during his early days in Munich. . Is that true?” “It’s possible. . were . “I asked you a question. We have many noted visitors who say things under 176 . Physical features. How did you get in?” “Himmler sent me.” “I want a favor first.The man bounded to his feet.” Glaring. friends. You can’t demand favors.” The man’s disposition changed.” “Then you shared the same bed. .” “Yes. Herr Buhle?” “Many times. you don’t know the deal. I miss him dearly. .” Buhle sauntered to a table in the corner of the room.” “Can’t I? Obviously.” “Then you must know a lot about him. close.” “Deal? What deal?” “Herr Reichsfuehrer will do no such thing. birth marks. He and I were . I want some information.
Blood squirted from his nose. Do whatever you want. with a red bow. “Himmler might not be too happy with you.” Eiser stood up.” Buhle held his nose to stop the bleeding.” he said. “A dog?” “A puppy to be exact. “That’s not nice. “Now. “Go ahead. a poodle. his voice muffled by the cloth to his face. returning the handkerchief to his nose.” he said.” “And I suppose you want a specific color.” Buhle scolded. Room sixty-four. at the same time reaching in his pocket for a handkerchief. now. Sixteen Rhone Avenue. Now.the influence.” “Get your own damn poodle!” “Forget the whole thing. a sneer on his lips. Say. I want a new one. “All right! Tomorrow!” “Bring it to my apartment at the Straumhausser. I want my poodle by tomorrow. Bring me a poodle and I will give you your information on Hess. yes. “Cross me and you’re kaput. Eiser grabbed Buhle by the hair and smashed his face to the table. too?” Buhle removed the handkerchief and checked it for blood. Then we talk. the favor. Six o’clock. White. Josie – my dog – died last week.” Reaching out quickly. then. “While you’re at it. 177 . shaking his finger.” Eiser cursed.” Eiser winced at him.
They were here. smoking train. The car was impressive. “You speak English?” she asked the bulbous-nosed Portuguese man behind the wheel. there were German drivers and German passengers. if they wanted. She saw a parked Mercedes across the street from the stuccoed train station. She felt safe and secure. Then out of nowhere. No one should be paying any attention to her here in warm and tropical Lisbon. it hit her. Senorita. She flagged the first taxi she saw. black and polished. Ma’am is quite sufficient. Dammit. She couldn’t wait to change.CHAPTER THIRTEEN Lisbon – November 25 She emerged from the hissing. “Yes. He respectfully nudged the brim of his black cap and smiled. Where there were German cars. I do. Do you know where the Empress Hotel is?” “Yes. ma’am.” “I’m American. minus the swastikas and jackboots. Those Nazi bastards could take Portugal too.” 178 . not far away. her eyes roaming across the foreign faces in the station multitude. She saw another Mercedes.
Gray skirt. The woman – Harris – was one of the first to get off. Five-seven. In the room. cocked over one eye. 179 .” The driver was waiting in his vehicle. Hair in a bun. There was a carefree American swing in her walk. rose-colored dress that revealed her firm.” “Yes. sir. He looked around and jogged across the street. the rage back home in the States.” **** It was simple for Hans Schmidt. I’ll give you another one just like it. She stood out among the dark-haired men and women. please. If he doesn’t lose you. Blonde. this Saturn. Her room was ready. This was the real Lydia Harris. White blouse. smoking a cigarette. She put on her pale-red lipstick. the most expensive and luxurious hotel in Lisbon. sir!” **** She checked into the Empress. but stay well back of him. She neatly placed a broad-brimmed white hat on her head. she undid her hair and let it fall to her shoulders. Schmidt slipped an American twenty-dollar bill through the window and the driver’s eyes popped. Good man. He had class. knee-length. Then she showered – the first one in two days.“Take me there. slender figure. “Taxi!” “Yes. whoever he was. “Follow that cab. She took the elevator up. and slipped into a snug.
She knocked at Room 418. you’re on first-names with him. He glanced up and down the hall.” “You’re Harris?” the man said. cautiously. and seemed to relax. It took the stone-faced man some time to answer.No more hair-in-a-bun stuff anymore. “You’re American?” “That’s right. Harris. The door opened slowly. and trotted two stories up. didn’t expect Lawrence to send a woman courier. do sit down.” He smiled. .” “Ah.” And she didn’t expect to see such a well-tanned Englishman.” “Come in. Call me Ken. I suppose. . Lydia Harris. we can – come. “Is anything the matter?” “I .” “Now that the formalities are over. “We know each other quite well.” “I’m Kenneth Sims. .” “Lydia. All he said was – Harris. “A good disguise. .” He rushed her inside. and closed the door.” She cleared her throat. “Saturn?” she whispered. took to the stairs. David knew it would be difficult for an Englishman taking a train through Vichy. I see. in shock. “Who are you?” “I’m .” “Perhaps we should also be on first-name terms?” “Good enough. A man in shirt sleeves and tie came into view. She tossed her hair back with a flick. Can I get you a drink?” 180 . “That’s me.
MI-6. sitting in a comfortable chair. Over the terrace. “Yes. How did Shean acquire them?” 181 . sun-filled living room containing soft wall-to-wall carpet.” “Adam Eiser! Are you positive?” “Yes.” “It would be a pleasure.” Sims studied the 35mm negative transparencies against the light of the sunny window. long legs.” Harris found herself in a wide.” “Your purse? You didn’t keep it in your purse going through Vichy. Behind my back. I thought it safer than the front. David told me his codename. Eiser! So that’s what this is all about. Aren’t you going to ask me what I brought with me half-way across the continent?” “I was getting around to it. the branches of a thick palm tree fluttered.” “Bloody hell.” “Let’s do it then. crossing her smooth. Lancer.“Not right now.” He slid the contents out. “When we go for dinner. I was told to tell you he is a German spy named Eiser. “Is that the lot? Three negatives of a man?” “Not just any man. “I presume that you know who Shean works for?” She nodded. a gentle breeze brushing the drapes. “There you are.” “I’m inclined to agree. “Excellent quality.” She opened her purse and handed him a small manila envelope.” She smiled. The windows were open. after plastic surgery. did you?” “No. Under my bra strap. Maybe later.
No. “I must go book a flight. the one who performed the surgery. smoothing his moustache. then.” The jittery clerk quickly tucked the money inside his pocket. I need a good rest. “I’ll see you at seven. I know some people in London who’d like to take a look-see at these.” He checked the register.” **** Schmidt slid a crisp British pound note across the counter to the hotel clerk with dark hair and moustache. for dinner. and developed the negatives. “Miss Harris. thank you. “An American woman. blonde. What about you? Where are you going from here?” “New York. asked for a room today. David got in.” “Yes. Coming on to three. about thirty.” Sims eyed his wrist watch. by Clipper.” “Sure.” Sims jumped to his feet.” “This is astounding.” “When?” “Two days. snapped pictures without anyone knowing. “How may I help you?” “I need a room number.“A little burglary of a surgeon’s office in Switzerland. Do you want to come for a ride? See some of the sights?” “No. What room is she in?” 182 . Never could sleep on trains.
Schmidt and the taxi driver waited. sir.” “Then take it. “Follow him.“Two-three-eight. “He’s heading for the airfield. 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.” “Another ten American dollars on top of the charge?” the Portuguese driver asked firmly. He started up the engine at the same time that a streetcar passed by them. “Let’s go. After driving five or six miles through narrow palmlined streets. Fascinating.” **** 183 . From the other side of the cobblestone street. Schmidt came to one conclusion. Keep a safe distance. Sims got into his car and left. We can beat him there if you like. Sims stepped into his automobile and drove away. “Here he comes. a safe distance astern. Schmidt took note. Schmidt sauntered over to the taxi. Of course. The cable office.” The first stop was six blocks away. jumping into the back seat. “Yes.” Schmidt said. Get going.” “I know another way. The German calmly looked the other way.” Schmidt turned and saw Sims get off the elevator and quickly blend into the crowd.” said the driver.
“The Empress. Move it!” “Yes. shoving an envelope in his suit-jacket pocket. To Whitchurch. sending her crashing to the floor. more than likely. In an instant.” “Compliments of the house. “Room service.Sintra Field Through the glass of the Lufthansa window. a plan taking shape in his mind. Hands lunged out. then opened up. buttoning it up. He came out five minutes later. As a British Embassy worker he’d have priority status. A gasp escaped her lungs. sir. Schmidt saw Sims burst into the British Overseas Airways Office.” She hesitated.” **** Lisbon Wakened from a deep sleep. Tickets! What else? His old MI-6 friend had booked a flight. “I don’t remember calling for room service. she stretched. Take the shortcut. leaning against her side of the door. “Yes.” A man’s voice. He could bump anyone. Schmidt returned to the taxi. she 184 . It had to be more than a coincidence. Miss Harris. And this right after sending a cable and a possible meeting with an American reporter. ma’am. who is it?” she said. She slowly slipped her nightgown over her body. and slid out of bed to answer the knock. The door banged her in the face.
What a fool she was staying here. “That’s not the right answer. “What do you want?” she managed to emit through the handkerchief. above her temple.” The voice was now distinctly German. Fraulein?” She shook her head. Let’s try again.” she tried to say. you die. face down. Harder. “What?” He drew closer to her ear. Her throat tightened. “Negatives!” “Negatives of what. By herself. You scream. Don’t look back! I warn you!” 185 . Not this way. “What information did you give Sims?” “Nothing. “Don’t move. “What did you say?” He shook her. She tried to squirm. “Negatives. The sound echoed in the room. but the grip grew tighter. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed the white sleeve of a jacket and a faint smell of hard liquor.” A slap across the side of the head. She couldn’t see her assailant. What information did you give Sims?” Another slap came down on her. dizzy from the blows. Beads of perspiration formed on her forehead. “I think you do know.found herself gagged with a handkerchief. her arms bent at odd angles behind her back. For that she received another slap. She was dragged into the bedroom and thrown on the bed. A swift knee to her back pinned her. She should have gone with Sims. stunned her. hovering over her.
managing to move her legs as best she could. It took her a few moments to realize where she was. gradually . The pounding continued. . back. Her clothes were still on. She must have fainted. wrists. ribs. “Tell me who it was or I’ll cut your heart out through your spine. fell. Her whole body was one big sore – arms. one foot in front of the other. right . Left . Only what her eyes focused on stayed in focus . A shiny knife slid by her right eye. If she wasn’t terrified before. .A knee crunched into her spine. clothes strewn about. . So had the handkerchief. She looked down at herself. Her imagination went to work. Had he heard someone? Perhaps the real room service. and tasted blood. right. she hadn’t seen his face. head. grayed over. She was still alive.” She couldn’t suck in oxygen quick enough. She tightened the belt of 186 . . she stepped forward. left . The beast was going to kill her. . I’m going to let the gag go. . It took all her strength to get herself off the bed. The rest . But he had left the room turned upside-down. . . mouth. She licked her dry lips. “Lydia!” Slowly. she certainly was now. she stumbled to the door. . But how long was she out? Why had he left her alive? Then again. . **** She didn’t come to until she heard the pounding on the door. Slice her up. And that nasty German with the liquor breath had vanished. . then got up. Like a drunk. . Her head began to spin.
What did he find out?” “That I gave you negatives. “What on earth!” She tried to smile. “There. it’s Ken. “I saw him leave in a taxi.” he said under his breath.” “The Germans were tipped off. He knows I gave you something. “I complained about the accommodations. I booked a BOAC flight to London. I had better change it to two seats.” She opened the door a fraction. Did you get a glimpse of him at all? What was he wearing?” She wiped her eyes and described what she had seen. Schmidt. He gently placed his hands on her shoulders. “Who did this?” “I didn’t get a look at him. But he had a German accent. He set her down on a chair. For tomorrow. That’s all. She promised herself she wasn’t going to cry. Listen to me. “A white jacket.” Sims saw that the place had been ransacked.” “Hotel jacket. she said. “Who is it?” “Lydia. Disguised himself as an employee.” Her voice cracked. though. staring at her. then entered.” Then her bottom lip quivered. there. Let me in. “He wanted to know what it was. The door was unlocked. and she burst into tears. Sims first peeked inside.” 187 . I’ll bet. He doesn’t know what they are. probably. You’re coming with me. giving her a handkerchief. Her blood ran cold.her nightgown. Ready to lock it. They must have been. stunned to see a red welt on the side of her head and dried blood above one eye. outside the hotel.
“You’re room?” “Don’t worry. You’ll never last another day around here.” She brushed her hand through her hair. She winced.” **** Berlin Eiser drove his Mercedes to the eight-story Straumhausser apartment building at a few minutes to six. That man’ll kill you.” “Do you have a gun?” “Bloody right. “Yes. With that lump. He barked at pedestrians. you probably have.” “I’ve heard that one before. I’ll shoot first.” “Not out of Lisbon you’re not. It’s not what you think. the poodle had plopped his front paws on the passenger window and never stopped barking. If anybody breaks in. vermin!” Eiser snapped at the furrywhite runt with the red bow. We’ll have dinner here. I don’t think you’ll want to be seen in public. For the entire ride from the pet store.” She laughed a little.“But I’m going to New York. 188 . and steered to a side lot. Try London. He barked at a German Shepherd that was taking it’s out-of-shape owner for a walk. and wiped her tears. “Come along. Her side hurt. He barked at the traffic. You’ll be safe there. You can stay with me in my room tonight. anyway.
” “If you want. Why do you want to know this?” 189 . I really don’t care.” Buhle took the animal in his arms and patted its ears. On the sixth floor. and it yelped. Buhle met Eiser wearing a white shirt and dress slacks. isn’t he?” “Yeah. “Now. are you?” Eiser asked “Yes. At least the last time I saw him. Hess has a fairly large mole on his right arm. “He’s not house-trained yet. Is that all you can remember about Hess?” “Yes. up from his elbow. The poodle growled. I think I’ll call it Rudolf. Eiser handed Buhle the dog. Eiser found Buhle’s room. Eiser stepped on the elevator with a woman and her ten-year-old son. Eiser slapped it across the mouth. “Sorry. a uniformed Hitler Youth. He didn’t think he’d get that close to the prisoner. his right nostril is slightly crooked.” Eiser slammed the door behind him.It growled.” Buhle played with the pup.” Inside.” She nodded. boy. “It’s yours. “Shut up!” Eiser hit it. a loosened tie slung around his neck. “Good boy.” Eiser cleared his throat.” he said to the woman. smiled awkwardly. his left cheek. “Frisky. Here you go. and turned away. “Going out. What was he going to say? Drop your pants? “Anything else?” “Yes. talk. “To start with.” Buhle put the poodle down and let it scamper around the apartment. And several cute moles on his bottom. Makes my dear heart flutter.
” “Are you saying that someone could have been impersonating Hess?” “I’m guessing.” “What do you mean?” “It didn’t look like him. then withdrew his gun.” Eiser grunted. booted the dog across the room. His aim was perfect. “I hate poodles. But it could be my imagination.” The dog strutted up to Eiser. lifted its leg. and peed on his pant leg.“Can’t tell you. the Hess I knew. though. He was making a speech. Can’t quite figure it. “Don’t kill him!” “Shut up!” Eiser fired. Maybe I’m wrong. one other thing. Eiser looked down. His face somehow. He turned to Buhle. His jaw.” “Pig! What am I supposed to do with a dead poodle?” “Flush him down the toilet. Many years ago. I saw his face once on a news reel.” Buhle turned white. At least. “Oh. It’s weird. 190 .” Eiser grunted. It didn’t look like him. “Thanks for the information.
Advance Wehrmacht units had fought their way to the suburbs. In his mind’s eye. The inter-office telephone rang. Total victory for Hitler was only one final push away. Was England next? Hollinger still couldn’t bring himself to believe it.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. Wesley Hollinger put himself in a German soldier’s shoes. Stalin had to be shaking in his boots. “Wesley?” 191 . Erwin Rommel’s Afrika Korps were thundering towards Egypt and the treasured oil fields beyond. The gap was closing. Hollinger turned up the volume and listened to every word. It was not good news for the Allies. On the Eastern Front. He reached for it. They had taken Istra – forty miles northwest of the Russian capital. He could see the spires of the Kremlin through his telescope. the Germans were unleashing their forces against Moscow.
boss. Not a pen or pencil out of place.” 192 . A whistle. old chap. The file cabinets to one side were tightly shut. “Fancy meeting you here. Her desk contained many papers.“Yes. It was Robbie’s unmistakable quick step. He wondered how he would say it to her. that’s all. She was still on lunch. He reserved two seats for a BOAC morning flight tomorrow. Hollinger walked two doors down to Langford’s office. colonel. Due to arrive at Whitchurch around five. Just say it. but they were organized into three tidy stacks. Saturn has the negatives. Why don’t you hang about. and see them for yourself? We’ll have an aircraft ready to fly the negatives to London. You know what I mean?” “Yes. She had a smile on her lips and a bounce to her step. alone. we can nail this thing down before anything gets out of hand. and waited. She turned the corner. colonel.” Hollinger heard the rustle of paper. His eyes traveled around the room. Today was a good time. Shades of Lampert. Her office was the same picture of neatness that she was in personal appearance. Then he heard the tap of heels down the hall.” “Hopefully. “Take-off from Lisbon nine-fifteen our time.” Later. Not a speck of dust anywhere.” “I have a decoded cable in my hand. He sat down in a chair. She seemed to be in a great mood for some reason. Then take your trip up to Scotland knowing what you’re up against. Flight 725. Swell.
The driver wound the top-down Mercedes convertible slowly through the cobblestone street until he came to a series of small. . tucked close together with barely a walkway for each front property. all right.” She gave it heavy consideration.“Hi. Robbie. . “You can bet your ass it’s no history lesson. “Oh. Eight o’clock. That means talk. I’m busy. Look. Don’t be late because . “This is it. “No. Your place. They don’t go over well. I have something to tell you too.” he said to the passenger.” She sat down. The street lamps flickered on on this cool night.” She walked around her desk. dear boy.” **** Zurich The sun set. . talk. We have to iron some things out. come off it. struck a match. and held it to a cigarette.” 193 . is it?” She took a drag. We have to get something squared away. “Not here. eight?” “This isn’t another history lesson on Hitler. Tonight.” She puffed and flicked the match out. I can’t take this any longer.” “So am I. About . You know.” “Whatever are you talking about. I don’t. .” “Oh. two-story row houses with dormers. “Three-forty-one. He drew the shiny convertible to a stop. “So.
” The driver nodded. A living room light was on. “Up we go. Nothing. Then they heard footsteps right above them. They rummaged through a few boxes and checked the contents within. Remember. They started with their search on the first floor. A night light. Kitchen cupboards. From the darkness of the door frame. They heard a car door slam. A drop-leaf desk. The door to the bathroom closed. he locked up behind them. “She’s here.” They walked up. After a few minutes. Next came the basement. The dresser. “These houses have two bedrooms.” They stood there and listened. The driver pointed upwards. don’t move so much as a dust particle. The driver eased the lock open with his skeleton key. Speed takes priority. Once in.” **** 194 .“Let’s get in and out before her roommate comes back. She was early.” the passenger said. “Leave her be. Forget your home manners now. The house door opened seconds later. Nothing. the shower started. “Right.” “Right. See what she does. he saw a woman walk past the dresser on her way upstairs. I’ll take the one on the right. The passenger shook his head. He removed his gun from his holster.” the passenger whispered. He carefully and quietly climbed the stairs. his associate behind.
looking through a side slit in the blackout curtain. You’ve hardly spoken a word to me except for official Secret Service business. “Ouch!” “Hurry up. I’ve forgotten them.” He got up and strode to the window. “What do we have to iron out?” “I know you’re still sore at me for my comments about the Big Guy.” “Oh. “Do tell. Lift the curtain so I can at least see where I’m going. Langford lit a cigarette and served tea to Hollinger who had arrived a few minutes early. “What are you doing?” she asked.” “Profanity never gets one anywhere. it’s not that.” “Blasted! I banged my knee!” She grunted.” She felt her way to the window. anyway? I want you to see something out here. “What’s the trouble?” 195 . She doused the lights.” “This is a novel approach.” “What on earth for?” “Trust me. “Good girl. Sorry. yeah.” He motioned to the window. You didn’t swear. “Come on! The lights! Quick!” He snapped his fingers.” “Ah. What kind of mind do you have. He wheeled around abruptly. What is it?” she asked.” “I don’t think so.London Inside her flat.” “Not in the least. “Flick out the lights. then stumbled around in the darkness.
’s. I didn’t know. He could smell her hair and fragrant perfume this close. So?” “The bloke in there’s tailing me.” She stared at him. I’ve been shadowed. She sauntered towards him. someone must’ve overheard us. Up from my MG. She let her eyes grow accustomed to the inky night.” “Well. then.” 196 . “Ever since our little talk in the cafeteria. Across the street. “Which one?” “The dented Morris.” “What for? Who is he?” “I thought you might know.” “I see it. She saw several Mr.” “Are you daft?” “You don’t know anything about it?” “NO!” “Do I have your word that you didn’t tell anyone about our conversation?” “You have it. I told you not to talk so loud.” “Do you really think MI-6 is tailing you?” “Positive.“See the Mr. down there? The beat-up one?” He held the curtain open for her. Do I have your word a second time that you don’t know anything about my being tailed?” “Yes! I swear to God.” “All this time? Three months!” “You betcha. “Why would I know?” She sounded sincere to him.
someone . The receiver is on top of the ceiling light.” “There’s something else I want to iron out. My office is bugged too.” “No. my side and your side have the same common goal.” “Fun? Everything is fun to you. I guess.” “Yes. Save our own butts. He desper197 . I believe you. She had posed a good question. must’ve had his reasons. How do we know the British aren’t holding anything back? “I don’t know.” “But when it comes right down to it. We accomplish it by staying out of the war. . His heart pounded in his chest. Fight Hitler.” “I see. . Maybe I was on to something. . If that’s the case. “What?” She looked into his eyes. why do you keep working for us?” He shrugged in the darkness. The smell of her perfume. They were face-to-face.“OK. Would they?” “I – I don’t know what to say. . You do it by fighting.” “Good gracious! Well . It’s still fun. An analyst’s assumption.” “Reasons! That’s why I didn’t want to say anything in your office. the warmth of her body so close.” He was closer to her now. they wouldn’t have gone to the trouble. He couldn’t help himself. eyeing the street. just in case they bugged your office too. What do you think of Churchill and the Judge and the boys now? If I was way off with my political accusations. His President’s words were ringing in his ears once more.
complications. He let go of the curtain. She tried to speak.” “Who?” “You know. She was responding.” “That so? You certainly had a strange way of showing it. They were heartbeat to heartbeat. your gun was stabbing me.” 198 . although clumsily. What happened to your aversion to redheads?” He shuffled forward. she shoved off. One kiss lingered long. Breathless.” He felt he had to tell everything.” “Too bad. stepping back. until. the clerk with the Union Jack on her tush. then took her in his powerful arms and kissed her with fervor and purpose. . but he couldn’t find the words... but couldn’t.” “It was?” “Yes. He kept kissing her. then gave way. Robbie. the way he hoped she would. “I love you. After all these months. He felt her body crushed to his chest. You’ll be interested to know there’s . cowboy. now. . He wondered how he had waited so long to kiss her. She struggled for a second. “Robbie—” “Back off. her breath sweet. Her arms slid around his neck and strong shoulders. ’cause you kiss even better than Annie Fannie. despite a slight scent of tobacco.ately wanted to say a number of things. Her lips were soft. From the moment I saw you at Bletchley. “Stop it!” “Why? You don’t like fast men?” “No. Yes!” “Yes?” “I mean.
” “Yes.” “Who the hell is Alex!” He tried to keep his cool. Scotland. have the two of you set the date or something?” “No.” “Oh.” “Sorry.” His voice trailed off. Him. He paused. Probably thinks I’m a secretary.” “Does he know that you do classified work?” “No.” “How do you know he’s not a German spy?” “Good Lord! He’s a fighter pilot!” 199 . But he gave me this engagement ring. “Is that what you were going to tell me tonight?” “Yes. yeah.” “So he had to get it off his chest before he left. Not yet. it seems I was a day too late letting you know my intentions. He kept his distance. it was.” “Well. How stupid of him not to have noticed the ring she probably had been wearing all that day. He’s leaving next week. the room returning to the dark shadows. That officer – the fighter pilot – you’ve been seeing. Him. Just that I’m with the Secret Service. “So. She didn’t answer.” She lifted the blackout curtain to show him. We thought it best that we announce the engagement now.” “Yes.“What complications? What’s up?” “Alex. One day short.” She released the curtain. He received a new posting to Banff. “Oh. “Engaged? When?” “Yesterday. That’s why she had been whistling.
The kitchen light snapped on.. Oh-nine-hundred. “Well.” she said.” He made a move for the door and banged himself on a chair. thinking of the woman he had in his arms only moments before. “What’s so damn funny?” “I think it’s safe to turn the lights back on. “Good hunting. “Where are they?” “Straight ahead.“Anyone can be a spy. On your right. Now he was walking away from her.” 200 .” “I probably won’t see you until you get back from Scotland. “Going into work tomorrow?” “Of course.” He donned his hat. It was like fumbling on the oneyard line.” Langford joined him at the door. “Remember? No profanity. “Well. He smiled.” Langford grinned. I gotta go. She laughed.” she said.” Hollinger saw no point in loafing about any longer. rub it in.. .” “Watch yourself. Ever see him fly?” “Well .” He found the switch. handing the fedora to him. no sense hanging around where I’m not wanted. “Son of a—!” She laughed again. why don’t you. I won’t be. I’ve had enough excitement for one night. “There. Toodaloo. Got the day off. This was crazy. boss. “Thanks. no.” His shoulder smacked the wall. sure. Be careful.” “Yeah. . Good night.
He recalled the last time – the Tower of London. Richardson asked many questions that day in May. Armored glass had been fitted to the windows in October. Schubert promised himself to be more polite. mindfully attempting to regain her dignity. riding the emotion. she put her fingers to her lips.Their eyes locked. After closing the door on him. She had done a good job of looking unaffected. After a few minutes he saw Richardson by his bedside. closed his eyes. excited. If she could. Did he mean it? But she must think of Alex now. and pushed him away. He took her by the arm. She pulled it off. **** Camp Z One of the many things the prisoner hated about his confinement at Mytchett Place was being forced to sleep with the overhead light on. ones that the prisoner had trouble answering. except for a little blush at the door. Where would he go? The prisoner laid his head down on the cot. savoring the moment of passion. These British were peculiar people. and pulled the covers up. He was a strong man. Why was he eating beef and chicken? Where was he born and when? How many 201 . He said he loved her. gently. What was he going to do? There were two guards outside his door. On this occasion. Her body was still warm. She touched the ring on her finger.
I have come in peace. In German. catching a name. Let me go now. “More paperwork in the youknow-what file.” **** New York City In the closing hours at Kerr.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.” “You’ll hear from Smith tomorrow morning. Don’t you recognize me? I am Rudolf Hess. “I’ve no idea. “Richardson.” “Yes. throwing off the blanket. “Who’s R-R-Richardson?” Henry asked. “Mr. Aris Palini made a long-distance call to Washington. The first in nearly five months. How nice to see you again.” **** 202 . Vern motioned to his partner.” she said. sir. “Come here!” “W-what’s the matter?” “Hess is talking to himself again. Chapman & Company.” “Really?” Vern and Henry listened at the prisoner’s door. Bill. Why don’t you answer me?” In the hall.
” she said. he saw the narrow streets of the old quarter winding like a maze up the Sintra Hills. careful not to wake the sleeping beauty in his bedroom. clean and bright. By this time tomorrow. “Yes. combining with the lights to outline the city’s terracotta rooftops. Home for nearly two years. This was his Lisbon. he quietly poured himself a scotch from the liquor cabinet. From the fourth-story iron rail. Where war had reared its ugly head. He heard a sound and turned. Through the open French doors. he’d be in London. Hope I didn’t wake you?” “I couldn’t sleep either. crowded with soft-colored houses and shops.Lisbon – November 26 Unable to fall asleep. The moon was up. softly. Then he tiptoed through the French doors to the terrace.” 203 . He threw on his robe. “What a view. Another world away. shivering for a moment. swaying the nearby palm branches. blonde hair. A cool breeze drifted in from the ocean – five miles west – and swept across the city. Sims got up from the couch. In the darkness.” “Can’t sleep?” she asked. some hundreds of years old. The stars were flickering overhead. It was after midnight. Harris appeared in her nightgown. From this point. he looked down at the bright lights of the intriguing espionage capital of neutral Europe. “No. the moonlight falling on her long.
Can I get you one?” “A Doctor Sims remedy for insomnia?” “You might say that.” They sat in the metal armchairs and placed the drinks on the iron table. “Thought this might do the trick. the underground. It’s Lydia.” “Don’t mind if I do. Miss Harris.” she said.” He returned with her drink.” He heaved a sigh. Wicked. They value their neutrality. It reminds me of the Swiss.” Sims answered her.” “I’m not budging.” he warned her. Lisbon.” Sims thought of London. bookies. it does have a criminal element. “Cheers.” “Yes.” “Yes. “I’ve kind of grown to appreciate its climate and its people. singing.” “Cheers. “I will. and a piano playing from a distant bar. straight up. Lydia. “However. it is.” “Yes. and Churchill’s inner circle. She sipped and coughed. Thugs.” 204 .” “How did you get started in your line of business?” “Recruited by a friend of my father’s.” “I told you before.He held up his drink. “MI-6 is a closely-knit family. Colonel Lampert. They heard laughter. “And spies hanging around. “Nice place.” “Drink slowly. they certainly do that.” She tossed her hair. An awkward silence came over them.” “Don’t go away. “Wooh. A warm scotch.
” “Somebody knew you had brought something with you.” “Until now. I work there. high cheekbones.” “But I’m coming back in a few weeks.” “That’s right. They could arrest you as 205 .” “Must have been one of those times. With my country neutral. And they sent word to Schmidt here. “And—” “I know. May I ask you something?” “Why not. She was attractive even now in the semidarkness – flawless complexion.” “Well. I live in Switzerland. She turned to him. “It doesn’t hurt anymore. David. full lips. giving time for Sims to admire her stunning features in the available light.The two grew quiet. In all probability. 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. Americans aren’t suspects. the Gestapo did come aboard the train twice in Vichy. I know these people. Your boyfriend. Her wounds from the attack had been treated. Go ahead.” she protested. Something gave you away. She saw him looking at her a shade too hard. German agents will follow you the minute you return to Europe. you know. and the swelling on the side of her head was covered by her hair.” “Good. You can’t go through Vichy again.
What did one famous person once say.” he told her.” His answer was firm. They listened to the sounds of the city that didn’t seem to go to sleep. “You think so?” “I know so. And your Embassy couldn’t do a damn thing to release you. A killer.’ Same war. I have crossed paths with him. taking a smaller swallow of her drink. The Germans enjoy war games. Lee.” Sims respectfully tipped his head at her.a spy. “And didn’t General Sherman once say.” For a full thirty seconds. We should grow too fond of it. His father 206 . He makes your blood curdle. He’s half-English. During your American Civil War. She went quiet. I know. “Who’s Eiser?” she asked. taking a swallow.” “Where?” “Before the war in England. This is war. He was a spy for the Germans. “What makes him so important?” “He’s a legend in the German intelligence service.” “That’s an understatement. ‘It is well that war is so horrible.’” The breeze blew at her hair. “It’s dangerous now. It is hell. his mother’s side. ‘War is hell. neither Harris nor Sims said anything. “Point taken. “Sounds familiar. Harris pulled her nightgown tighter. by the way. Where have I heard that before?” “Robert E.” She sighed.
” “That’s horrible.” he assured her.” “If you can take the blackouts.” 207 . and stabbed me in the chest. With them. He threw acid on one of our men. a place where his old face would be recognized by us. The Secret Service in London must have those negatives.” “I’m scared. the sandbagged buildings.” She leaned back in the chair. Most don’t. then he’s undoubtedly ready for an operation either on neutral soil. we would do something. It squeaked.” “Don’t be. If he went in for plastic surgery. I was in a hospital for weeks. or North Africa. the rations. we can arrest him the minute he steps on our home soil. or even England. “He won’t try anything again.” “Why can’t he be stopped?” “If this was England. He moved his chair closer. Promptly. the rubble. I won’t let you out of my sight until we’re aboard our flight to London. “What’s London like? I’ve never been there. the smell. But what can we do in Portugal? Switzerland’s the same. Spies run wild.” “But at least I lived to tell about it. three of us from the Service were ordered to arrest him. He’s learned a lot in two years on the other side.was German. or in Malta. But he slipped through our fingers. “Of Schmidt?” “Yes.” Her voice was shaking now. He could be coming home to roost. you’ve got it made. In August 1939.
” “The Portuguese authorities won’t do a bloody thing.” “That’s true.” 208 . We’ll be celebrating in London tomorrow. Just consider yourself fortunate he didn’t kill you. “Don’t worry.” She lifted her glass.” “You don’t say. To London.” “You don’t know for sure if it was him. He bent over and kissed her slowly on the forehead.“But he assaulted me.” The alcohol seemed to be taking hold. Lydia. by jove.” “A toast. “To London. like an innocent brother-to-sister kiss. The kiss of a protector. You never saw his face. dulling them both. I know a great restaurant in Piccadilly.
The twinengine Douglas DC-3 passenger airliner near the gate appeared sturdy enough to make the flight. and consumed a breakfast of ham. They set their luggage down on the warm concrete opposite the BOAC terminal. as she eyed their mode of transportation. eggs. It was a sharp sunny morning. Perfect day for flying. pulled themselves together. Two countries at war with each other – England and Germany – so damn close.” Sims said to Harris. 209 . with red. The aircraft was painted in an overall pale blue.CHAPTER FIFTEEN Lisbon They woke a few minutes after seven. served by staff in starched white coats. and coffee together at the hotel dining room. Then they took a taxi to Sintra Field. It had large black letters on the rear fuselage – A-GBLL. A small aircraft took to the air on the far runway. and blue identification stripes on the long wing. white. “There she is in all her majesty. not a cloud in the sky. It unnerved Harris to look over and see swastikas on two airplanes through the open doors of the Lufthansa hangar across the concrete.
the loudspeaker voice exploded. Sims said that he knew three by name – all British Embassy officials. She took a seat with Sims over the starboard wing.” she said. France The base CO. Six others were Jewish refugees. The others were two Spanish couples with money. ENGLAND ARE REQUESTED TO MAKE THEIR WAY TO BOARDING AT GATE TWO. ENGLAND. but she didn’t want to look down once they were off the ground and over the ocean. “After you. Major Ernst Jodel. They boarded. Harris noted the other passengers in the cabin. Outside. “You take it. He offered her the window. “THOSE PASSENGERS ON BRITISH OVERSEAS AIRWAYS FLIGHT 725 TO WHITCHURCH.” **** Near Nantes.” “Thank you. 210 .” Sims smiled and pointed to the terminal’s main door.” Harris wished she was as confident as her English friend. “FINAL CALL FOR BRITISH OVERSEAS AIRWAYS FLIGHT 725 TO WHITCHURCH. the cut of their clothes giving them away as the privileged of society. accepted the deciphered Lisbon communique with shock and had to double-check with the base communications officer to see if it had been recorded properly.The loudspeaker blared with a British voice. by the look of them.
They shared intelligence on the diplomatic line. Hauptmann von Reiden. experienced Messerschmitt BF-110 pilot of 16th Staffel. Kampfgeschwader 50. He and Schmidt had an agreement. Herr Major. To date. In minutes. **** Major Jodel looked up as Hauptmann Albert von Reiden reported. But he trusted Schmidt. Major Jodel would call upon von Reiden. Jodel wasn’t accustomed to taking orders from the Gestapo. Jodel wanted to know why Berlin had not authorized this. destination 211 . he received his answer. Top Secret. In most cases. Odd. Hans Schmidt. But this flight had the makings of an international incident. both interested in the Whitchurch-LisbonGibraltar flights and other related information that passed through this side of the continent.It was from his friend. Fifteen minutes ago. He pondered his telephone receiver. “One of the BOAC flights has departed from Lisbon. he had made more than forty reconnaissance sorties over the Bay of Biscay. there was no love lost between the men in black and the Luftwaffe.” “You wished to see me. They saluted in unison. decorated with the Iron Cross 2nd Class during the Polish Campaign.” Jodel cleared his throat. Only one option was available to him – telephone Schmidt’s business office in Portugal for verification. “At ease. for it was in the form of an order. For such a mission.
I want you to take four fighters with you and intercept it. they talked of Banff. Alex was crazy about her and said he couldn’t live without her. Drained of energy. Dismissed.” “Mein Gott! Shoot it down? But. Over a pot of Hollinger’s strong American coffee. She was exhausted. “Why are you standing there? Dismissed!” Von Reiden clicked his heels and withdrew. but. but contented. **** MI-6 Headquarters Still half-asleep. This had carried on too long..” “Do you wish me to escort it to France. It had been a long night. Orders from Berlin. She couldn’t pretend.. Shoot it down.” “Yes. her forehead was pounding from a headache that had started soon after arriving at work. Langford had to do something. Herr Major?” “No. That’s all. She surprised herself. She had been up for most of it with Alex. so sometime before dawn she finally told Alex she didn’t love him. dejected. Herr Major—” “Identify it and shoot it down! And don’t leave survivors.” There was no movement on von Reiden’s part. her mind and body were in disarray. And to top it off. shoot it down. A great burden had been lifted from her. It’s markings are A-GBLL. discussing their futures. 212 .” “But. Roberta Langford felt lousy this morning.England. He left.
” “That’s absurd! Why would the Luftwaffe shoot it down?” 213 .” “Right you are. Then she was called into Headquarters in the morning. The note. This is Spencer. after three hours sleep. “Robbie. “Still there?” “Yes. We are. It couldn’t have come at a worse time. Robbie? You don’t sound yourself. Her office phone rang and she answered it. wishing she could lie down. “OK. Go ahead.” She cupped her forehead in her hand and closed her eyes. bound for Whitchurch.” She slowly pressed the button on her phone. Her thought patterns were still in slow motion. yes.” “I’m fine. massaging her temple. Really. please. “We’ve just intercepted a Falcon File message sent from Lisbon to a Luftwaffe fighter base in western France.” she said slowly. Anything wrong. “Are your people certain?” “Oh.” She opened her eyes. is going to be shot down in flight.” “Let’s scramble on this one. A cafeteria bench or a corner in her office. I am. How is boring old Bletchley?” “Hot! Where’s Lampert?” “He’s expected in at any moment. Anywhere.” “Can you pass him a high-priority note.” “Yes. Spencer. British Airways Flight 725 out of Lisbon. straightaway?” “Don’t see why not.There were no tears.
000 feet. the air pockets bounced the DC-3 around. I saw him drinking tea in the cafeteria.” She reached for her high heels by her feet. The pilot took the machine up another 1. “There. And the airliner is already en route.000 feet and the turbulence seemed to feather out. “Now what do you say?” “Flight 725! Why that’s the one we’re waiting for. slipping her second shoe firmly in place.” He grabbed the sheet from her hand and read it. At 4.” **** Over the Atlantic The flight north was far from smooth. What’s up? What you got there? Let’s see.” Langford scribbled down the information. mister. “What are you doing here?” he asked. “I’ll get on it.” “Never you mind. “Do you mind?” Langford grabbed it back. 214 .” she said. bending down. and saw Hollinger traipsing through the hall. but that’s how it comes out.” “You mean the Germans would actually shoot down one of our passenger planes? That’s unheard of!” “I know.“I don’t know.” “Why don’t you keep the darn things on?” “Where’s Colonel Lampert? Have you seen him?” “Yeah. “Thought you weren’t in today. stumbled out of her office.
about eight hours.” “Eight hours!” she replied.” “Will this thing make it? It whistles from one end to the other.” Sims said to Harris in the seat beside him. The Luftwaffe haven’t 215 .” “That goes without saying. “Relax. “But they know we’re here. “Everything’s going to be all right. BOAC takes to the air along this route nearly every day. Got to take a wide berth around the continent. So there’s a long time yet.” Once more. . But we can’t do that. and scoot back to France. . They won’t try anything. “Of course.” “How long will this take?” “Altogether .” He raised a hand. see that we’re civilian. “Do any German aircraft come out here?” “Quite often. ooh . The Germans knew they were making this flight. .” “The DC-3 can fly around for half a day without refueling. They take one look. Lydia. Harris recalled the close proximity of the BOAC and the Lufthansa hangars and offices at Sintra Field.” “They do!” “They track our courses.” She didn’t feel comfortable with that.” “How close do we get to France?” “We miss the tip of Brittany by a good hundred miles. . It’s over a thousand miles to Whitchurch.“Settle down. I’m told. As the crow flies would have been quicker.
” Sims frowned. LEUTNANT?” “READY WHEN YOU ARE. Von Reiden reached up and snapped the safety lever in place.000 RPM.” his navigator behind answered. von Reiden pointed down. . Two ground crew yanked the chocks free of the wheels. “ARE YOU READY. then dropped 216 . Von Reiden revved the dual Daimler Benz V-12 powerplants – two thousand horsepower at his command – to 2. staying clear of the spinning propeller of the sleek twin-engine twoseater. then strapped himself to the seat.” She turned to Sims. HERR HAUPTMANN. She looked down to the floor to the brown leather briefcase – the diplomatic pouch where the negatives were tucked. The DC-3 hit an air pocket and she held her breath. sometimes.” She tried to cheer herself up. .” **** Near Nantes The ground crew chief slid the BF-110 canopy closed and clambered off the wing to the tarmac. “I suppose I should’ve said something before. we might start shooting Lufthansa planes down. “Now you tell me. He pressed the intercom button with his gloved hand.tried anything before. “Oh. Closed in. held them there.” “What are you talking about?” “I get airsick . Why would they start now? If they did. I knew I shouldn’t have eaten all those eggs.
STAFFEL LEADER OUT. Left hand on the throttle levers. He applied the toe brakes. “STAFFEL LEADER TO RED FLIGHT.” “RED FOUR. Blue flames spit out the exhaust pipes. facing west. RED STAFFEL LEADER. He had set down the rules in preflight. He pressed his radio transmitter button. He had been flying them since the war began.” “RED THREE. The others would bring up the rear in pairs. “RED STAFFEL LEADER TO TOWER. They snaked their way to the longest runway. READY FOR TAKE-OFF.” The five gray-blue camouflaged Messerschmitt BF110’s pulled out of dispersal in a disciplined follow-theleader fashion. into the stiff wind. STAFFEL LEADER. HERE. Von Reiden swerved his fighter around. He looked through the windscreen to the flopping windsock. They squealed. STAFFEL LEADER.” Von Reiden was satisfied. two minutes apart. He pressed a switch on his right to give the wing twenty-degree flap.” Von Reiden ran through the routine. HERE. The Luftwaffe knew it as the Zerstorer – Destroyer. DO YOU READ?” “RED TWO. The BF-110 was his baby. He’d take off by himself. halfway down the 217 . manufactured by Messerschmitt to wage war on German enemies to National Socialism.” “RED FIVE. “PROCEED. he revved his engines until the raw power screamed in his ears.them to idle.” “PROCEED. He pressed his R/T.
building up. The hydraulic action pulled the wheels into the belly with a thunk. Von Reiden advanced the throttles to his twin engines. ahead-left. 218 . Then he released the brakes. and two men in bulky flying gear. the 12. Laden with fuel. He pressed the undercarriage switch. The fighter jolted into motion. Tail up. Von Reiden sighed when the wheels left the concrete.000-pound Messerschmitt was off. combining with the lift under the wing. She gained speed slowly for the first few moments. He turned to his side and raised his thumb to the navigator. Von Reiden applied hard rudder to prevent swinging in the early stages. ammunition. A strong force was at play.runway. Lift-off. The windsock came and went in a flash. The wheels thumped over the concrete sections and cracks. Then the props caught the airflow. A thousand yards of beige-white concrete stretched out over the nose. The end of the runway appeared ahead.
” “And what is that. Besides.” Lampert pleaded. “It’s already in the air. Colonel Lampert tilted his smoking pipe towards him. examining the end of it. haven’t you set a trap for him?” “If it is him. sir. Well.CHAPTER SIXTEEN MI-6 Headquarters Langford glanced at Hollinger.” “Absolutely not. “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. The C-phone conversation with Churchill wasn’t what the two of them had anticipated. then there’s one other option. the photographs. sir.” 219 . colonel?” “Once the aircraft gets into radio communication with Whitchurch. They’ll know we have broken the code. we could order them to return to Lisbon. We can send our fighters to intercept the German fighters.” “But.
She could sense a slow burn in him. Colonel.” “Sir! There are twenty people on it. “The time when it really counts. the strain of the decision telling on him. The Morse Code would be intercepted by German controllers. “Seems so. we might have been able to do something.” “But.” Lampert hung up. “Wesley. Goodbye. But it’s my decision. Hollinger sprang from his chair.” “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. aren’t they?” Lampert stared past the American. “They’re dead ducks.” He stared at Langford.” Churchill sighed. Someday you’ll see that I’m right. “Anything we do will be suspicious. He shook his head at her. glazed look to his eyes. a sorrowful. “You know what I mean?” “The son-of-a-bitch!” Langford swallowed hard. stiffly.“Nothing doing. “If we had gotten the message before he left. I don’t want you referring to our Prime Minister in that 220 . There’s no secret code between Whitchurch and its pilots. the only other option is to—” “Let Flight 725 get shot down. Ours not to reason why. this is a hard decision. sir. They’ll all be killed!” Langford shot a look at Hollinger. Mine alone. “How dare you. I imagine.” the colonel said.
” “Well. We can’t have that sort of thing. . you mean. Besides. He left prints in the care of his girl friend in Zurich.” Lampert answered Langford’s next question. really?” “Yes. just twenty. “I contacted Shean about that very thing. Wesley. “Afraid not. but there was nothing she could say. as I recall. We’re saving it for the time when we’ll be able to save hundreds and thousands of lives. She agreed – partly – with Hollinger.” Langford saw Lampert look to her for support.” Hollinger moved closer to Lampert. in a sealed letter. her voice low. Not yours. Too dangerous. Not .” “A fence-sitter. .” “They’re mostly our people.tone and using that language. “Tell that to the families of the twenty. that sure as hell makes me feel better. And don’t forget Coventry. Breaking into the plastic surgeon’s a second time is out of the question. “Perhaps we can we obtain another set of negatives?” she asked. They’re on to us. you only need to think on this matter for a moment to understand why he decided the way he did.” “Didn’t our agent in Zurich make photos from the prints?” “Yes. How many died there?” “You’re non-partial in this war. Wesley. Stay out of it.” “Oh. Miss Langford. 221 . The Germans know what we have. Lampert shook his head.
sir. “Good luck. something awful. But Churchill could take no action. tired. Coventry was bombed. Poor devil.” “Let me have a go at talking to him. It was on November 14.” “Then we’re up the creek without a paddle. One day . I’ll need it. “Damned if we do. Doesn’t see our point.” **** 10 Downing Street A few miles across London. Damned if we don’t.” He scuffed out of the office. . but he was playing God. He’s a wee bit bothered. sir. The prints have vanished.” He looked at her with fatherly eyes.” “Thanks.” Hollinger snapped. . as you can see.” Hollinger said. He knew the logistics of the situation only too well. “You had better go to Scotland. some day people 222 . The image of Coventry in rubble the year before had come to his mind many times already. Lampert shrugged. Prime Minister Winston Churchill fidgeted quietly in the depths of the dingy War Room. Wesley. “and see who this blasted Tommie is.” the colonel said. head down.” “Swell. “Excuse me. Now BOAC Flight 725. her place was ransacked.Trouble was. He wasn’t God. Tears of anger filled Churchill’s eyes. slamming the door behind him. The British cipher agents knew what was coming.
eyeing her. “My word.” “Who bit her tail off?” a slurred voice in the group said. Hollinger tried not to hear. and who died. The place was half-full. his fedora on the counter. then finally said.” she said. A group of airmen watched Langford walk in. beneath a picture of the King of England. red. What you doing later?” “Piss off. Just trying to be friendly.will thank him or at least understand why he had to make such decisions on who lived. “I bet you were. and smelled of stale liquor. flyboy. smiling. sitting on the barstool next to him. “I’m not in the mood. “What the hell does it look like?” 223 . A fire was hissing along the far wall. lifting a glass of dark-brown liquid to his mouth. firmly. “Hello there. What do you think you’re doing?” she asked Hollinger.” “OK. and she shouldered her way through the young men. One of them – nursing a drink – stepped forward. 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.” He gave way and let her pass.
I’m not in his shoes. then.” “OK.“Oh. “Imagine. Right now I want to enjoy being miserable.” He put the glass to his lips.” He belched. If it’s any consolation to you. She nodded. “Yes. And neither are you.” she whispered a few inches from his ear. I agree with you about the Portugal flight. Excuse me.” He sighed. “Good etiquette certainly isn’t one of your strong points today.” she said.” “Serious misgivings?” 224 . One of those self-inflicted cases? Planning to get drunk?” She lit a cigarette.” “That’s better.” “What is that you’re drinking?” “Stout. The worst thing I ever tasted.” “That’ll be quite the achievement considering you have the whole day ahead of you.” “Do you like it?” “No.” “Nice speech. actually. “Let me guess.” “I feel quite up to the challenge. I’m getting out of this God-forsaken business. I might even close the place. Good and slobbering drunk. exhaling cigarette smoke. “I would have sent either an escort out or fighters to intercept the Germans. “You do?” He swung to her. But I’m not the Big Guy. “I’ve had it. we sit here on our fannies while innocent people bite the bullet in a matter of minutes. I dunno.
boy? I think you’re downright gutless. maybe I am. “Good idea. Habit of mine. You deaf? Should I draw you a map?” “Don’t get your knickers tied in a knot. “Let’s go for a walk.” she advised Hollinger firmly. stop your moaning. bitterly.” He tilted the glass and drank heavily. You mean quit?” “Yep. “Well.” “Sorry. the air stank of exhaust mixed with a damp mist. Charlie.” He drained the rest of the glass and grabbed his fedora.” “Moaning?” “Can’t hack it. “Look.” he said. “Like Hess defecting. Don’t walk so fast. “Slow down. Get some fresh air before this gets out of hand. Wesley. Goodbye. And while you’re at it. Not here. Maybe I’m developing a conscience. and sliding her hand in his inside his greatcoat.“Yes. two young people who had to grow up awfully fast for 225 .” In the street.” Langford surprised Hollinger by throwing away her cigarette. Wesley. “Up and quit?” “That’s what I said. Going AWOL.” “I see.” “Me gutless?” He shrugged. and trying to warn you people of what’s coming. The gesture seemed to identify them as comrades.” She saw the airmen looking at them from across the pub.
I’m just cold. Nothing. no ring?” “It wasn’t meant to be. Please. “Piss on him. or are you suddenly feeling sorry for me? Wait a minute. “Don’t take it as anything else.” He removed her arm to look at it.” “Does this mean you’re available?” “Shut up. Put some breathing space between us.” she said.” “Who called it off?” “I did.” She returned her hand to his coat pocket. We need time to think. thrust into an unfair uncompromising world of politics and classified documents.” 226 . though. Don’t look around. I don’t wish to talk about it. Forget it. But how did you decide so quickly? Last night—” “Please. We both did.” “What about the shadow? What if he should get the wrong idea?” She shrugged.” “That’s the second time.” “Right. He’s out there somewhere. “Hey. He’s going to squeal to the Judge that we have something going. “I could use a friend. Do we?” “Nothing.” “But we don’t. His skin felt warm. “I didn’t think you cared. for now. I mean.their ages.” “You’re kidding. you’ve used that word today. no. Do we?” “Oh. finding his hand. don’t press it.
If there isn’t.” She poked him in the side.” “You kept a secret for me. there should be. I guess not. You worked on the Japanese code.” “Your background before coming to Britain was the side of intelligence as seen through the eyes of a neutral power. so it’s about time I returned the compliment. your President knows how it is. play by the rules?” “No. Lampert will have my head if he finds out I told you. 227 . “All right. Believe me.” “Only until the end of the year.” “Sounds like you know something I don’t?” “I know a lot that you don’t. I remember. and Flight 725. All right!” They strolled shoulder to shoulder. remember?” “Yeah. Coventry.” Hollinger said. “Don’t quit. What I’m about to tell you is Most-Most Secret. It’s a different world here.” He decided to back off.They looked into the other’s eyes. each probing for a dent. “Didn’t you know Intelligence is a dirty business? Did you think it was going to be easy and straight-forward. if there is such a thing. With Hitler. He did it with the Hess case. stride for stride. a sign. You’ll see the difference if your country gets into the fight. Something. You won’t like some of the decisions made at higher levels in Washington. Churchill has to do what’s right for the majority of us. “Besides. The United States is not at war with the Japs or with Hitler. Let’s walk. We are. Neither knew what.” she said. “You sure you don’t want to talk about it?” “I’m sure.
” “Says who?” “Two months ago.“There’s a park up ahead.” “Accidentally on purpose?” “No. Let’s take a turn through it. shall we?” They didn’t exchange a word for a few minutes.” Langford continued. What was his name?” She prodded him along until they picked up the pace once more. “With my clearance to the MI-6 file room. It was a real accident. “Noonan. a Japanese seaplane base on the island of Saipan. “Spying!” “Earhart and her navigator. She claimed she saw a woman fitting Earhart’s description in Japanese custody there. Fred Noonan. surrounded by bushes. 228 . “You’re familiar with Emelia Earhart?” she began. “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. “Me and half the world.” “Did you know she was spying for the American government?” He stopped. And she claimed her aircraft was shot down within sight of Saipan. I stumbled on the paperwork. The government used her roundthe-world flight as a cover for her to photograph Japanese military installations in the Pacific.” “Yes. abruptly. they were strolling through the park’s winding paths. pulling her hand out of his coat. A block later. Anyway.” she continued.
“To quote someone I know. huh?” “Oh. Some say we still aren’t. Probably not. In 1937 your country was not ready for war. you don’t know a snitch’. The White House. he could have started a war with Japan.” “Yeah. And from there it went all the way to the top.Earhart left the island in Japanese hands. what’s the point?” Langford stopped him with a tug on his arm. yes.” “The President?” “’Fraid so. The full details. ‘for a smart person.” “All hush-hush.” “Huh?” “Figure it out! Your President Roosevelt knew she went down inside Japanese territory but couldn’t rescue her or demand her return.” “Does my government know what happened to her?” Hollinger asked.” 229 . but how do you know Earhart was spying?” “The woman said the Japanese found aerial-photo cameras aboard her aircraft.” “So. Noonan was beheaded. Whether she’s still alive is only speculation. If he tried to rescue her. “Bloody right they do. The MI-6 agent took the information to the American Embassy at Hong Kong.” “I guess you’re right. Not by any stretch. Washington. Alive. We weren’t ready. Quite.
” “Will I?” “Yawohl. “Robbie. This is your training. Wesley. You’re being groomed for something bigger. mysterious eyes. You’ll get used to it. He had wonderful.” “Now.” “Robbie?” 230 . It’s tough at the top. Twenty people heading to their deaths. “Yes.” “I still don’t like it.” “You think so?” She nodded. Don’t quit. I follow.” She took in his stare without a blink. even for Iron Asses.” he said. “OK. I guess. “Cheer up. keep the information to yourself. squeezing his arm. then he would be admitting she was spying.” They stopped walking. Your COI is just starting up.” “But think of the bigger picture.” “Yeah.“If he demanded her back.” “We’re drones. Now. She liked what she saw. Your country needs people like you. Kind of like a scout for the rest.” “Remember. “Welcome to the real thick-skin world of intelligence. I can feel it. back to you. doesn’t this situation remind you of Coventry or Flight 725?” Hollinger realized there seemed to be some merit in what she was saying.” “Wild horses couldn’t drag it from me.
. Wesley?” “Yeah?” “You shouldn’t have called the Big Guy a son-of-abitch in front of Lampert. until he looked away. “Yeah. “No. “One other thing. We both have work to do. Maybe I should have called him a prick..” 231 .“Yes.” She smiled at him.” Grinning.” “Forget it. he said.” “No?” She shook her head. you’re right. Wesley?” “I still.” “What?” “Forget it.
she opened her eyes and sat up. A glare caught her eye and she pointed. Suddenly. Her eyes went to the window. She blinked once.” The cabin came alive. She was a goodlooking woman in her brown jacket. her head bent at an odd angle to her right. The sky was bright. company’s dropping in. “I guess I fell asleep. five hundred yards off starboard. “Look. her hat covering her face down to her nose.CHAPTER SEVENTEEN Over the Atlantic Sims glanced through the square window at the solid mass of peaceful blue ocean.” She glanced at her watch. matching skirt. Harris was slouched in her seat. Twice. as other passengers saw the five twin-engine fighters in a V-formation.’’ “I guess you did. They were on a parallel course with 232 . sleeping beside him. and long legs under clear nylons. “I say. “Did I snore?” “No. She had been out for over an hour. then turned to his companion.” he laughed.” He saw them too.
” Then he led the way. “Thank God for that. I call it scared shitless!” **** Von Reiden pressed his R/T. She was no 233 . NOW. the sun reflecting off two canopies. and two men per aircraft.” Sims said. We call it diplomatic immunity. “They won’t give us any ruddy trouble.the airliner. BREAK STARBOARD. What did I tell you? They’re turning away.” **** Von Reiden looked over his left shoulder to see his flight forming up. Checking us out. “Just coming for a little look-see.” “Oh. watching the ME-110’s peel off. he knew the machine’s capabilities.” Sims said. the blue-gray paint scheme. the crosses. Everything’s under control. It wasn’t until they came within one hundred feet that the passengers saw the stenciled fuselage numbers. “STAFFLE LEADER TO RED FLIGHT. keeping pace with him.” Harris leaned back in her seat. the first to bank right. FOLLOW ME. Germans in ME-110’s. “Yes. yeah. “Germans!” Harris uttered. His plan was to come out of the sun in a dive. As a BF-110 expert. and shoot the DC-3 in the back. **** “See. AGBLL. Like the Polish Front in 1939. my dear. He saw the passengers in the windows.
DO YOU READ RED FLIGHT?” “RED TWO. climbing.000 .” Von Reiden pushed the control column forward and advanced the throttles. GUNS READY. I READ YOU. The Battle of Britain proved that. making it hard to believe they were in the midst of a war.” “RED FIVE. Connected to the button was the live ammunition of four nose-mounted 7. 7. the sun behind him. FIRE AT WILL ON MY SIGNAL. RED TWO AND RED THREE BREAK STARBOARD WITH ME. It was a serene day. . He found it unnatural.. careful not to stall his fighter.000 feet.92mm machine 234 . leveled out. OXYGEN ON.. He banked in a tight starboard turn. The slipstream whistled over the canopy. “STAFFEL LEADER TO RED FLIGHT. . RED FOUR AND RED FIVE BREAK PORT.” “RED FOUR. But she could take a tight turn when need be. UNDERSTOOD STAFFEL LEADER. 6. The speed quickly built up. nose up slightly. He watched his altimeter dial . STAFFEL LEADER. “STAFFEL LEADER TO RED FLIGHT. The DC-3 was a speck in the distance.000 feet .000. CONFIRM. he finished the bank. . 8. The Spitfires and Hurricanes could fly circles around her. . and throttled back. . And she could dive like a screaming eagle. UNDERSTOOD.” Von Reiden flipped his mask in place.dogfighter. . blending into a shrill. She had limited maneuverability at medium and high speeds. His right thumb went up the control column to the firing button.” “RED THREE. across the firmament. At 10.
The wind was roaring through the cabin from a gaping hole flapping next to his bloody. then to the deck. his aim was trained on the target. The pilot cut the power to the starboard engine and feathered the prop. Sims threw himself over Harris. A second salvo of bullets – a longer burst – riddled the aircraft. What the hell was going on! The Germans had never attacked a passenger airplane out here. hurling both of them to the deck. one shell stabbing Sims in the arm. larger by the second in the reflector sight. “FIRE AT WILL!” he belted into the R/T.guns. The starboard engine was on fire. **** In the cockpit. A few more seconds. eh?” Harris reminded Sims. “Stay down!” Sims scrambled to the now-punctured window beside him. The DC-3 loomed up ahead. Six hundred yards and closing. Within firing range. . The flame 235 . He collapsed to the seat. He pressed the button . the BOAC pilot was desperate to pull the aircraft out of the dive. **** Windows shattered and glass splintered along the length of the plane. “No ruddy trouble. “Here they come again!” someone shouted. The noise was thunder to his ears and the cockpit filled with the stench of burnt cordite. This wasn’t supposed to happen. . unconscious copilot. It would be a turkey shoot.
Salt water was pouring into the cabin. sir!” **** In a glide. oblivious to her own danger. 236 . sputtering. she removed her jacket and wrapped it around her arm. But it was still running. She stepped over two bodies. She grabbed the injured Sims and helped him to the opening. flinging the passengers across the deck. Harris tried not to panic. trailing black smoke. The cabin quickly began to fill with water. “Heave ho. The airliner was sinking fast. Harris and Sims found themselves three seats up the aisle.” he sputtered. Think clearly. “Yes. The port engine was leaking oil. How could this be? Why had the Germans opened fire? “McMillian?” he yelled to his terrified wireless operator.” He did just that. nose up.extinguished itself. Just. sir!” “Send an SOS to Whitchurch!” “Yes. Kick off your shoes. “Good enough. the DC-3 struck the water flatly. girl. faltering.” They both took a deep breath. Then she broke and cleared the rest of the glass in the nearest window. “Can you swim?” “A bit. With the chilling salt water at her knees.
looked up.. There was no protection. Closer . A few feet above the water. flipping her long. laboring. she saw Sims floating in the middle of an oil slick. the bubbling spouts sped towards her. wet hair to one side of her face. jostling furiously to the surface outside. The smell of gas and oil pinched her nostrils. . She kicked and dove headfirst for the safety of the fuselage. closer . . . .. Low. . Bang-bang-bang. Only four people – so far – had escaped the plane. Gasping. everybody! Dive!” she yelled. She popped up in the sunshine. She saw the red blinks .. The German fighters broke away and were swooping down at them. Shivering and treading water.With the water over their heads now. but his words vanished into the engine and gun racket. then followed to get free. kicking her feet. she swam for him and shook him.. When she returned to the surface. and the line of strafing bullets peppering the water. her lungs feeling the pressure. and two other men.. She waited several seconds. . Plunk-plunk-plunk-plunk. She heard engine noises. “Dive. Debris bobbing everywhere. breathless and squinting. she pushed him through the window with all her might. Sims. “Ken!” 237 . They were close enough for her to see the black crosses and swastikas. Two. except to. Sims tried to say something. she turned..
His nerves twitched. She dove under water for the wing.. banking. Pulling herself together. she felt a terrible sting in her 238 . She kicked. They were floating a short distance away. No pulse there either. Not again. Was she the only one left alive? She saw that the wing had separated itself from the fuselage. the wing would be all that was left afloat. They had spotted her! How badly did these Nazi bastards want every passenger dead? It was as if they had kicked open an ant hill and were trying to stamp out every last ant.. She vomited. Only the top few inches of the main portion of the DC-3 were left above the water line. by itself. She swam to the nearest one. the last spasms of life in him. A few feet short of her destination. lining up for another attack. Blood and pieces of her friend’s brain – the thickness and color of thick porridge – covered his matted hair. Blood covered them both. riding the swells. Bang-bang-bang. What was keeping the wing up? An air pocket inside? Then she heard the clatter behind her. She felt his wrist for a pulse. Nothing. forty feet away. Two fighters were skimming the water. Bang-bang-bang. following the first two. Two more were winding out of violent dives. The top of the agent’s head had been blown clear off. One more. in the distance. she swung her body around. She swam for the other.It was no use. she fluttered. she glanced around for the other two. Soon. Shivering.
At last. Still underwater. Oh. For a time. Thank God. but she shivered uncontrollably. An oppressive taste of salt hung in her mouth. She lay there. It was there to stay. She was spared. One chunk of wing poked slightly out of the water.right thigh. all Harris could hear were the fighters’ engines in the distance. If they hit the wing she knew it would go up in flames. allowing the lashing swells to rock her. they were gone. She struggled to haul herself from the water.. God. Her right thigh was aching. The sea water in her cuts hurt something awful. Bang-bang-bang. The engine noise carried across the water and faded to a distant buzz. She spread her arms out. She poked her head up. Or sink. Her whole body was numb. She tried to spit it out. They didn’t see her. She had taken a shell. falling onto the wing face down. Then all was quiet. breathing strenuously. They banked – all five – and made another pass.. and she tucked under it for safety. Twice. Airsickness was bad enough. Or both. Only mere feet off the water. she lunged her way to the wing. It was no use. Very low. She saw blood on her right arm. Once. This time they didn’t shoot. slipping in beside it. In every direction – nothing but miles of open water. guns pounding in short bursts. hanging onto the side. catching her breath. The second line of fighters roared directly over. Now she was getting seasick. 239 . Or else they would have fired. Bang-bang-bang. please don’t let a bullet hit the tank. The wing was warm from the sun.
grimly. ONE ENGINE ON FIRE. to look for land. The transmission went out before they could give a position. too. looking down at his sheet. He folded his arms. “Whitchurch received a Morse Code signal from BOAC Flight 725. What were the chances? Didn’t Sims say they were at least a hundred miles from shore. although she already knew the answer. “It’s time like this that makes me want to retire early. What was that about .” he said. LOSING ALTITUDE.” “It’s over?” “Appears so. hell.” **** 240 . Land. Nazi shore.” He sighed. “What. diplomatic immunity? **** MI-6 Headquarters Lampert jotted the information on a pad of paper. who had just arrived with some Enigma intercepts from the Russian Front.” “What do we do now?” she asked coldly.” He sadly put the telephone receiver down and stared at Langford. “Send an air-sea rescue to see if anything or anybody’s left. . “It’s done. . sir?” she asked.Where was she? She tried to keep her head up. “Thank you. Quote – WE’RE BEING ATTACKED BY ENEMY AIRCRAFT.
It was successful. Is that satisfactory enough?” “Excellent. Nevertheless. a mound of modern medical supplies. Let’s just say I’m an associate of your friend in Portugal. the flight engineer post. There was no evidence. Astern lay two double-decker bunks.” **** Atlantic Ocean The cockpit. I will sleep well. please?” “Was the mission successful?” “I said. and extra blankets for the crew’s airsea rescue work.Near Nantes A bad phone line from Berlin crackled in his ear. it appeared they had come up empty-handed. Goodbye Major Jodel. “Major Jodel?” “Yes. an electric hot plate. and the navigator compartment were wide and roomy. She was the long-range PBY. Once-keen 241 . 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.” The major felt a lump in his throat. Today.” “I hope you will sleep well tonight. a sufficiently-stocked food locker. She was a self-contained aircraft. “Yes. It had to be Himmler.” “A most unfortunate incident. who is this?” “Berlin. whoever you are. Who is this.
eyeing the glint of metal through his binoculars. executing a bank to the right. Under four-tenths cloud at ten thousand feet. IT LOOKS LIKE THERE IS. SKIPPER. “YEAH.” The pilot flicked the intercom button on his headset. starting from the west. I SEE IT. The pilot pushed on the throttles to the dual engines high on top of the wings. ONE PERSON ABOARD.” he acknowledged in his headset. SKIPPER!” “BY GOD. UNKNOWN. He made one pass at five hundred feet and looked straight down. “PILOT HERE.” “HERE. There was a lot of sea. STAND BY FOR COMPLETE EVALUATION IN A FEW MINUTES. No Kraut U-Boats either.” “I SEE SOMETHING THREE POINTS OFF THE STARBOARD BOW!” the sergeant exclaimed. “I SAY. and gave it to the pilot over the intercom. NORTH-NORTHEAST. THERE’S SOMEBODY DOWN THERE. SIGHTED WHAT APPEARS TO BE THE WING OF A DOWNED DC3 IN SEARCH SECTOR FOUR.” “SEND A MESSAGE TO WHITCHURCH. “PILOT TO WIRELESS. entered it in his log. STATUS. The navigator got his fix. GOT THAT?” 242 .and intense eyes were now tired. “STARBOARD BLISTER TO PILOT!” the sergeant in the center hatch bubble shouted over the intercom. The sun was sinking and they were too close to France – Nazi territory. nothing else. they had patrolled in northto-south strips.
she mouthed a weak. Harris was conscious of men’s voices as they were handling her. and then came to when they gently moved her into the Catalina and wrapped two thick blankets around her chilly body. “Easy with her. Then he applied power until he was alongside the piece of metal. The sergeant left the hatch. Through cracked lips. She was face down. He came around. and swam a few feet until he found a woman in a white blouse and brown skirt. The 243 . “Thank you. but pumping. She blacked out. her clothing pasted to her body.” he said.” The pilot descended at the rate of two hundred feet per minute in a tight circle. He gently reached for one of her sunburned arms to check her pulse. reeking of salt and oil. She’s alive!” A second man jumped into the water. It’s a woman.” to her rescuers. He waved for help. . the man knelt over the woman. It was weak. The pilot advanced the throttles and lifted off the water surface. . Downwind. Voices . and splashed into the water a few hundred feet from the wing. he swept low on another pass. reduced power and speed. her head cradled against a rolled-up blanket under her neck. Her right thigh had a large bloodstain. SKIP. “Give me a hand. soaked through her skirt. who were now stripped to their waists and drying themselves off. she looked up at two men. Harris lay on her back. jumped into the water. Climbing aboard the floating wing.“GOT IT.
” he said. gratefully. straight from a thermos.” “You’re not kidding. “We’d better look after that wound you got there. Looks like she had a rough afternoon. Japan An ocean away. running his hand through his wet hair. and she tried to open her mouth to say more. She was flooded by a dulling warmth for the first time in hours. Thank you. he gave her a mug of hot coffee. “Her pulse is stronger already.” With tender hands. You took a bullet did you?” “Yes. She smiled and swallowed. Then she closed her eyes . ma’am.” “Thank you. thawing her out. “Don’t worry.” The man smiled. this chain of 244 .blankets wrapped over her were working. too. . . she pressed her fingers around the cup before drinking from it. a thousand miles north of Tokyo. and passed out from the pain in her thigh. “You’re safe now. Sitting up. But she could only utter one long sigh. soon as we get into shore. Shrouded in clammy fog most of the year. The whole sickening episode filled her thoughts. “All in a day’s work. He checked her arm. the Kuriles lay between the Japanese mainland and Siberia.” **** Tankan Bay. He took back the coffee and held it for her.” one man said.” “Let her sleep. ma’am. She accepted.
Any Dutch. Either he would maintain his eastern course at thirteen knots. and four destroyers secured the carriers’ flanks. a Japanese Task Force had steamed into Etorufu – the largest of the Kurile Islands. Six carriers.fifty bleak and volcanic Pacific islands had seen snowflakes in the air for several gray. Their orders from Tokyo had been explicit. aboard the carrier. Eight tankers. Ships of all other nations were to be boarded and their radios seized. the battleships protecting the rear. This massive unit of men and machinery was directed by Commander in Chief of the Japanese First Air Fleet. The remaining five destroyers held a course several miles ahead. One light cruiser. On November 22. They meant business. a second set of orders came. in the pre-dawn of the 26th. Thirty-one ships were deployed. undetected. Two heavy cruisers. or he would turn back to port. Nagumo’s next order would be to wait on a final coded message from Tokyo. The carriers steamed in two parallel columns. Akagi. wintry days. scouting for the fleet. Nine destroyers. and British vessels encountered along the way were to be fired on and sunk. Then . American. The fleet was under strict radio silence. Stand by. So there they lingered for four days. Vice Admiral Chuichi Nagumo. The submarines. Three submarines. 245 . The Force weighed anchor and slipped out to sea in dense fog. cruisers. Two battleships. . .
too? Why am I not surprised?” Smith sat in a chair. Hell. Henry Silsoner was at the meeting. these are some of the biggest banks in the 246 . a Morgan bank. Trust Company.” Donovan admitted.C. – November 27 It was a cool morning in the capital when Smith and Colonel Donovan once again conferred at COI Headquarters. Chapman & Company to hold the paperwork. “Thank you. D.CHAPTER EIGHTEEN Washington. Kuhn. Dillion. “So. Filberg contracts. more invisible ink 35mm shots through a red filter of I. Silsoner’s Equitable. “Three more New York firms. “And they’re using Kerr. son. “Nothing surprises me lately. Loeb and Company. compliments of Aris and Smith. turning in his chair. “National City Bank.S. the big boys have bobbed to the surface. Aris was right. Sit down.” “Me neither. Donovan had the photos in his hands.” Donovan flipped through the shots.” Donovan told Smith. Clever. sir. Both owned by the Rockefellers. Read and Company.” Donovan said.
” Donovan stared at his white textured ceiling.” he snapped to the driver. . and strode slowly across the concrete towards the opening. the pilot smoking a cigarette.” Donovan found his way to other glossy photos. All sending millions to the Nazis through I. “It’s just . The wide door was open. what they are doing is perfectly legal.” “The annoying thing is. A hundred feet opposite the door.” **** 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. At best. “Thank you.S. ball bearings. “You may proceed. “To help the Nazis build fighter and bomber planes. 247 . sir. and forged past the steel and wire gate. Himmler and Eiser got out. we could be going to war with these people. . He steered for the second hangar on the right. twenty minutes of daylight remained. and who knows what else. at stiff attention. Filberg for Hitler’s war machine. the sun falling on the nose of the JU-52 transport.” “I know. The crew were alongside the fuselage.” The driver put the car in gear. tanks.world.
” “Make sure you establish a rendezvous return with Denise once you make contact with her. my doctor ID. I was badly injured – burnt – at Dunkirk with the medical corps. hands behind his back. War Office pass.” They proceeded through the hangar door. Can you trust him to give you what you need?” “If he doesn’t know.” “Yes.” 248 .” “Yes. Do you have a good alibi for him? He will want to know where you’ve been for two years. His fedora.” Eiser nodded. I’ve worked on that. The lot. coldly. lethal injection. so that she can radio Hamburg for a return flight. “Do you have everything you need?” “Yes. Herr Reichsfuehrer. Himmler smiled. Writers have their own grapevine. “The weather calls for clear skies.” Himmler said. “Good luck. this Jordan fellow.“Our Greenland station reported in. Ration book. head down. Eiser. taking the information in. Your next assignment awaits you.” “I am at your service. Herr Reichsfuehrer. Herr Reichsfuehrer.” “This man in London. turtleneck. English paper and coin currency. a colleague is bound to.” “Very good. and blazer attire marked him as a common Englishman. to such a degree that I needed plastic surgery on my face.” “Passwords?” “Committed to memory. It’s all in the medical bag. Return quickly. cloud later over the North Sea. Herr Reichsfuehrer.
and his conversation with Major Jodel.” “Just a tad.Himmler wondered if he was that loyal.” “Spoken like a true Englishman. You like the money and benefits.” “Yes. Herr Reichsfuehrer. “One other thing. “Don’t flatter me.” The Gestapo leader lifted his head. Himmler glanced down at the concrete. Although poky and bulky. Due to her double-wing 249 .” **** East Coast of Scotland The three-engined Junkers JU-52 transport was the most durable aircraft in the Luftwaffe aerial arsenal. Eiser. Tunisia. Crete. the Nazi invasions of Norway.” “By the way. Without her. the JU-52 had a distinct feature that allowed her to be a valuable piece of machinery in spy operations. Eiser. “Why did you have to shoot Buhle’s poodle?” “It peed on my leg.” “Oh. sir. “Positive. Tell the truth. and Russia would not have been successful. Are you absolutely positive no one in England knows my new face?” Himmler’s next thoughts fell upon the BOAC flight out of Lisbon.” They stopped under the wing of the DC-3.
their two cars hidden in the bushes. opposite the grass airstrip.construction of full-flaps and ailerons. The last thing the pilot wanted was to be sent off course. Under a low ceiling. When the unmarked JU-52 carrying Adam Eiser left the Hamburg airstrip at sundown. he continued undaunted. Now cloud appeared over the North Sea. A shot of schnapps from the bottle he had in his boot helped. Only the glow of the four fires spaced in a line twenty feet apart were visible more than three hundred yards across the field. she could land and take-off in only a few feet of space. Then came an unexpected fog once the transport reached the Scottish coast. He had flown in worse conditions on the Russian Front. merging water and sky into one mass. Wesley Hollinger stood poised with the Secret Service men of Blue Force. Schnapps helped there too. “She’s getting worse. Then a moderate crosswind picked up. The weather reports were wrong. This was going to be difficult – but not impossible – at night with radio silence. The pilot kept an eye out for RAF fighters and Coastal Command twin-engines. all armed with automatic pistols. **** On the tarred road. the sky had been clear. Max. his training ground for such missions.” Hollinger said. The fog had engulfed Denise. 250 . flying on dead reckoning and bare wits.
We . She turned around. yes. He mulled the mission over in his mind. Confront him. One side of her was warm. Find the prisoner. the other side was freezing. 251 . no sign of the fires. They were losing this war. Badly. go back. .” “I do. Inform Hitler of Himmler’s treachery. Then . Poor misguided Britain. At least there was no wind. “Still on course?” Eiser asked. After a two-year absence. **** Denise buttoned her coat to her neck and edged closer to one of the fires. . the man with him. And be rewarded. . I can’t figure out why he’s coming back.“Seems so. .” He sighed.” answered Max Preston. “You know. England. Hess or no Hess. and to a welcoming committee of one. he was returning to the country of his birth. Smoke?” “No thanks. The altimeter read four hundred feet. return. Ahead. Identify him.” “Sounds to me as if you know this Eiser fellow. “A real Scottish pea-souper. **** Adam Eiser peered over the cockpit seats at the orange and yellow-lit instrument panel. covering the flame with his hand. not bothering to glance back. Then take care of him. A damp coldness had invaded the lowlands tonight. Typical late November in this part of Scotland. The copilot nodded.” The Englishman struck a match.” “Oh. Never took up the habit. I forgot.
all right.” The pilot didn’t reply. **** The JU-52 copilot pointed to the glow. Time to anti-up. She ran for the end of the field. **** At an altitude of fifty feet. the pilot made a necessary visual of the field. “I’d know that sound anywhere.” replied Preston. Preston stamped out his cigarette. Hollinger and Preston glanced up as a thundering silhouette made a pass overtop in the foggy darkness. “Nice going. **** On the ground. She couldn’t see the Secret Service men through the ever-thickening fog. tugging at his fedora. “Is that her?” “She’s a JU-52. the length and width now imprinted on his mind. Then he banked and leveled off for final 252 . clear of the flight path. That was not good.” Three Secret Service men stepped out from the cars in the bushes.her backside to the flame. “That’s it. Which meant they couldn’t see her. He banked right to line up to the left of the fires. British engines didn’t sound like that.” Eiser said. Then she heard the rumble of engines.
253 . carrying a small piece of luggage. An image formed. He eased the stick forward. a gold-plated ball-point pen that with one click turned into a knife with a thin.” Eiser picked himself up. I’m not sticking around any longer than I have to. three-inch-long blade.approach. Get yourself to the hatch. Good luck. running the few feet to the center of the fires. The fires were dead ahead. and spun around. “Look out!” the copilot shouted. I am. In seconds. The engines noise rose and the aircraft took to the air in only a few feet. He flew over what appeared to be a clump of trees. He caressed the small steel acid capsules in his left blazer pocket. He looked down at his carrying bag. Eiser fell backwards on the deck. The pilot pushed back on the column. “How are you doing back there?” the copilot asked Eiser.” “Sorry. Heil Hitler. total silence once more. squatting down. “Having the time of my life. burning away through the mist. The German airplane bounced to the end of the field. **** She watched the transport airplane make a perfect landing opposite the farthest of the fires. and the holster inside his shirt that contained the instrument he called “the shaft”. telephone wire.
Just the way I remember Britain. It’s horrible. We’d better douse the fires.” Denise turned the ignition of the Vauxhall parked off the narrow tarred road.” 254 . Her mind was spinning. “A country inn about four miles from here. Careful. “I’ve booked a room for you. “The blackbird flies after midnight.” “Likewise. I know the innkeeper. “Only on Sunday. Hurry. Heil Hitler. After that. you’re on your own.” “Tommie?” “At your service.” “Fair enough. Either the man was very good with an English accent or he really was English. This way. calm yourself. I will then make the arrangements for your flight to Germany. “Where to?” he asked. Denise?” “Yes.” “Of course. and smoothed his hair. stopping short ten feet back. I hope you know your way in this soup. Denise. “I have my car waiting.” the woman replied. He will notify me of your return. Your name is Floyd Hogan.” she insisted. she thought. looking across at her in the front seat.” “Heil Hitler. Act normal. Pleased to meet you. “Let’s go.She ran for the image.” she said. He removed his fedora for a moment. He placed his carrying bag by his feet.” She tended to the flames by grabbing a shovel and digging up pieces of turf and snuffing the flames out.
He grabbed her by the hair and twisted. “I can’t see. What is the matter?” She needed a comeback. She had talked with him. Denise. She slammed on the brakes.She laughed nervously. “You are jittery. In a panic. The bait to lure one more German agent. Slower. “Why are you slowing down?” he asked. As she strug255 . she could see Tommie’s head turning to her. The crossroad was coming up. Creeping. She slowed down. her thoughts went back to the May sub drop in daylight. Out of the corner of her eye. She drove on. In an instant. She could not drive too fast.” she said quickly. She had taken the wrong road – the south road – and messed up the rendezvous. Now this. She turned the wheel and pulled the small black vehicle onto the bumpy road. Her hand went for the door knob. Then Hess escaped the base and crashlanded – shot down – near Glasgow. his tone unfriendly. The man in the hat and sunglasses – Rudolf Hess in her car. They passed the old cemetery on the left. her heart raced away on her. The fog was too thick – the visibility was down to twenty feet – and she didn’t want to miss the crossroad where the Secret Service men were laying in wait to intercept Tommie. She had driven him to Dunampton aerodrome. But the man anticipated the move. The blackout headlights – only two small beams – made everything worse.
” Eiser uttered. Not to be heard. . **** They heard the rumble of the engine first. reaching for his knife. They split into two groups and walked around the front of the car. twice. “Come on!” Hollinger hollered. and ran in the opposite direction to where Denise had been taking him. he turned to the left. it burned something awful. They saw the Vauxhall in the middle of the road. she felt a liquid thrown against her face . the engine running.gled. . stinging burn. Hollinger – on the driver’s side – probed the inside with his light. Everything went black. “Amateurs. the men ran in the direction of Denise’s piercing cry for help. 256 . **** Eiser leaped from the motorcar. Like falling into the flames of a furnace. She couldn’t see. he took to the grassy edge of the road. No one. They advanced on it. Then the muffled scream. The headlights were on. falling to his knees. and stumbled across a weeded field. jumped a wet ditch. After a few hundred feet. Hollinger flicked on his flashlight. crouching low. She screamed. **** Pistols drawn. A painful.
” “So it is him. lately. There’s no way of sealing off the area. “Only one man kills like that. Mr. Preston kicked the car. He must’ve known we had laid a trap for him.” “True enough.” “He doesn’t like much of anything. Dammit all. I think you’re right. “In this soup? We don’t have a prayer.” 257 .” Preston grunted.” “But obviously still effective. Where he left off. bending over her. “Unfortunately. “The colonel won’t like this. It’s a different kind of cut than I remember.” “Quite so. Preston nodded.” Preston shook his head. He’s back. “What are we waiting for? Let’s find him.” “Eiser?” asked Hollinger. Less bloody. though.” “Yeah. “Acid to the face. And he’s starting early. Bloody throat.” Hollinger agreed. Lucky bugger! I’m afraid we’ll have to wait until morning.” In a fit of anger.He opened the door and Denise’s body slid headfirst to the road. “He has to be the luckiest man on earth!” Preston’s outburst surprised Hollinger. Hollinger.
We don’t know his cover. or why he’s back.” Lampert puffed on his pipe. The Judge left word with his staff that he wanted to see Hollinger the minute he arrived in the building. drumming his fingers on his desktop. “Any word from Preston?” “Nothing! Eiser vanished. Never! He’s roaming about free somewhere and we don’t know what he looks like. “Sit down. And on top of that he speaks an excellent English.” “Eiser never should have gotten away. “No. doesn’t it?” “You’re telling me. Wesley. “All hell seems to be breaking loose.” Hollinger complied. He knows his way around. “Yes.” Hollinger sat silently.CHAPTER NINETEEN MI-6 Headquarters – November 28 That afternoon. He was still tired from his trip up north. we don’t.” he said. He was steaming. ready to explode. the young American appeared. Thirty minutes later. sir. And why not? This is his home turf.” 258 .
Colonel Lampert here. Guy’s Hospital on the telephone. Maybe. What’s with you and Langford?” “What do you mean?” “Getting a little chummy?” Hollinger recalled the walk with her in the park.” Listening. “Yes. the colonel glanced over at Hollinger. While you were gone.” “Thank you. it is.” Lampert hung up.” Lampert composed himself and stared at Hollinger. Flight 725 had a survivor. A woman. “Hello. “I wonder what they want?” “I’ve been expecting them. “MI-6 has a good source at Guy’s Hospital. I will. “I dunno.“Yes.” The intercom buzzed. Line two. “Yes. American. Lampert flicked a switch. there was a new development. are you?” “Who. Thank you very much.” “Someone actually survived?” “Yes. me? I don’t like redheads.” Lampert lifted the receiver. We had her flown into London.” 259 . Margaret. Don’t let your Embassy get a hold of this. She refuses to give her name or say anything until she speaks to someone from her Embassy. “Guy’s Hospital?” the American asked. Margaret?” “Colonel.” “Another thing.” “Right. I suggest you get over there on the double and ask her some questions. Doctor. Who’s business is it?” “You’re not sweet on her.
She was sitting up in her gown. COI. What’s more. we want to keep this out of the papers. “Oh. and Wesley?” “Yes.” 260 .” Hollinger stood.” “Huh? What do you mean?” “Look down. wondering if this was going to be another alert for one of the knotheads tailing him. “Wesley Hollinger. “Good afternoon. run along. “How do you do?” “May I talk to you. ma’am?” She brushed her hand through her hair.” **** Guy’s Hospital Lydia Harris was resting in bed when Hollinger found her in the private ward.“Now. sir?” “It wouldn’t be proper for you to meet her like that. And it’s best they stay out of this. her arm bandaged. her hair tangled. Your fly’s open.” “Then you’re not from the Embassy?” “Nope.” “COI? The American spy agency?” “Not so loud. “It depends. devoid of makeup. Her eyes were glassy. her face flushed.” Hollinger said. faraway. I’m sure she’s scared enough as it is.” “On what?” “Who you are?” He flashed his ID at the blonde. removing his hat.
considering I’m the only survivor of a passenger plane shot down by German fighters.” “Really. I don’t remember doing it. eh? In London? What gives here?” “Let’s say I’m observing for Washington.” 261 . “Correspondent.“That so?” “Yes. ma’am. How the hell do you think I’m feeling? Pretty damn rotten. So. I work in collaboration with MI-6. what brings you overseas?” “I’m a writer.” “Trust me. I flew over with an Englishman from Portugal.” It was plain to Hollinger that she was in discomfort. are you?” “That’s right.” She hesitated. a friend of a friend I know in Switzerland. “All right.” she replied reluctantly.” “Why?” “Classified. We’re both on the same side. “OK.” “Who for?” “New York Times in Switzerland.” “How’re you feeling?” She coughed.” “Yes.” “American intelligence. May I ask why you were on the flight?” “I don’t know if I should answer that. ma’am. But other than that I’m great. I gashed my arm somehow. “I took a cannon shell in my thigh and I was unconscious for about half a day.
Put them up to the light a couple times. excuse me. The plane struck the water.” “Where are the negatives? We’ve been waiting for them. Harris.” 262 . glanced at them.” Hollinger felt a chill of goose bumps forming on his arms. . by chance?” “Yes. “How do I know I can trust you?” “You can.” “You must be the courier from Zurich.“What’s the name?” “Who?” “The one in Portugal. The only thing I could think of was to get out. She rolled her eyes.” “Sims had them in a briefcase. .” “They went into the drink with everything else. if you please. . Miss? Mrs?” “Miss. The man in Switzerland wouldn’t be David Shean. . everything’s been going wrong lately. It’s just . Lydia Harris. “Yes.” She nodded back. Did you look at the negatives? What can you tell me about them?” He withdrew a notebook and pen from his coat pocket. I am. Everything happened so fast. “You! So you were the one flying with him.” She hesitated again. but was shot by the fighters in the first pass.” “That’s understandable. concentrating. I really don’t want to talk about the details. Let’s have it. that . Sims made it too. . We were attacked. .” “Shit! Oh. “I .” “Welcome to London.” “Ken Sims.
“One last question. yes.“Anything!” She took a breath.” “It’s a start. then opened wide for the 263 .” “Anything at all? Any identifying features?” “A moustache. Some big wheel in Berlin. Was my roommate hurt?” “They never touched her. Harris looked at Hollinger oddly. Miss Harris. “We or me in particular?” she mumbled. Did the Germans shoot our plane down just for those three negatives?” “It appears so. “I can’t really say.” “Dirty business.” “Those Germans don’t miss anything. It’s hard to tell with negatives. that’s all I can recollect.” “You’re telling me. Flight 725 had engine trouble. right?” “Right.” “I want you to know that I have prints.” “No they don’t.” “Not any more. ma’am. I won’t say who. Hollinger.” Hollinger turned for the door. “And how are we feeling today?” She held out a thermometer. “And as far as you’re concerned. Mr.” “Someone pretty high up the ladder had to authorize it. Shean said the prints were nowhere to be found.” “What do you mean?” “Your house in Zurich was ransacked while you were away.” “You guys are on the ball. Got it?” A nurse entered the room.” He looked towards the door.
Wait’ll you hear the Cockneys. “It’s another language this side of the pond.” Jordan had made one excursion already to that part of the country and wasn’t looking forward to another. “Just leaving.” The nurse glared at Hollinger. adjusting it under her tongue.” **** London Daily Telegraph “News Desk.” “Who are you?” “A friend of Jack Buford. sir. She took it.” “I want to talk to Stephen Jordan. How do I get there?” 264 . uneducated.” The voice was coarse.stick of mercury.” he said. “That’s a long bloody way.” Jordan lowered his voice. ma’am. Accent. Hollinger said.” “What in particular?” “Not over any telephone line. “Good idea. Before the nurse could respond. Scottish. “Speaking. “Where’s that?” “Five miles south of Motherwell.” “I see. on the road into town.” “Meet me at the Orkney Inn.” “I’ve something you’ll be interested in seeing.
then proceed to siphon a few gallons. Finding petrol had been even tougher. of course. He couldn’t use her to return to Germany. He didn’t know where he was. His plans had changed now. black Hudson saloon. First. He swiped a bicycle and followed a set of rail tracks into a village. his body filled with Benzedrine tablets – he considered his next move. All signs were removed in 1940 under the threat of a German invasion.. Fishing trawler. Driving it any distance – especially during daylight – was tough.” **** Southern Scotland At dawn. Denise was a trap. a pub. But he did it. Eiser ditched the fourcylinder. what with the rationing. he had to find a can and a rubber hose. There were no signs identifying the place. two stores and. He looked around and saw a post office. Boat.. He had to think of alternatives. Wide-eyed – Eiser hadn’t slept for a day and a half. arriving at the train station. assuming he was still there. Every Scottish and English village had a pub.“Here’s the directions. under partial-cloud. A surprise visit with an old acquaintance. which he had stolen three miles from the spot he left Denise very dead. Hotwiring the auto had been easy. Train to London. He knew how to run boats. Take the morning Glasgow train. He 265 . Anything that could float across the Channel or North Sea.
” He waved and pointed at the western horizon to the other driver. He went to the outside window beside the platform. paid his two-pounds-ten and bought a ticket for the London-bound train slated to arrive in thirty-five minutes. His last meal was the previous evening in Hamburg. if they were still there. Used it to entertain his lady friends. He nodded to the driver in the other MI-6 auto. Warm to touch.had owned a small yacht in Argentina. “That’s the one. but he can’t hide. Max?” Preston looked at his driver. Then he strolled into the adjoining cafeteria and ordered fish and chips. “He can run.” **** 266 . The KBA 49 registration number confirmed it.” Preston said. He also had a friend or two at the Swiss Embassy in London. Maybe less. Sometimes overnight and weekends. removing himself from the passenger seat and stepping onto the tarred road. “Where to. Not this time. **** Max Preston and the two other Blue Force men found the abandoned black Hudson by a bend in the road. Undoubtedly ditched in the last half-hour. “Try the village up the road. lifted last evening from a country yard. then pulled the hood up to run his fingers along the engine. He was starving.
” “Ticket.” 267 . turning. I am. Eiser dug for it. The Benzedrine was wearing off. as a matter of fact. “Yes.By the time the train for London had pulled in. black bag in hand. including men and women in uniform with their kitbags. the station was packed with people of all ages. and watched the ticket collector accept those aboard. we surely do. madam. tugging at the fedora he hated. “Here you are. “What hospital?” the woman wanted to know. He felt tired. my good man.” “Yes. “Are you a doctor?” one of the boys asked. “We always need doctors. Eiser. as Eiser moved towards the train.” Eiser said.” the woman said. “I have my own private practice in Liverpool.” the collector asked Eiser.” “That’s nice. please. stood ahead of a woman and her two twin boys about thirteen. especially during this time.
It seemed that everyone in England was taking the train north to Glasgow this day. Near Nottingham. penciling in a newspaper crossword. Men and women in the service. and onto the concourse. Jordan played it cool. Army. Once was enough to know. down the steps. the reporter had stood in the first compartment. Their eyes locked once. Mothers. Daughters. Then he ran for it. At the next stop. several people stood to get off. reminding Jordan of a crammed cattle car. Navy. Fathers. Air Force. 268 . would turn around every so often. A well-dressed man in a brown fedora. three seats up. But by Leeds he had suspected something. The body odor was the worst. Jordan darted from his seat. Officers and ranks. Standing room only. smelly. he had found his way to a seat in the rear section. and smoky. Sons.CHAPTER TWENTY Northern England – November 29 The Saturday morning train was busy. For the first one hundred miles. Using the crowd as a cover. a small town outside Glasgow.
He suddenly turned around. he walked off with the others. “That will be two-and-sixpence. inches apart.” 269 .” the man said.” “I’d like to make a call to London. And we both work for Lampert. sir. What gives?” “I beg your pardon. This is ridiculous. And you’re following me. I was following Jordan. poking a stiff-faced man in the ribs. Hollinger returned to his seat. why didn’t you go after him?” “Whatever are you talking about. He had turned around and Jordan wasn’t there anymore. They stopped. dear boy?” “For the love of Mike. pal. “Hey.” Hollinger watched the man jump into a taxi. At Glasgow. Oxford 9-41-2. He slowed down until he was one of the last in the line. then he headed to a telephone booth. Hollinger got up and walked to the compartment’s rear. Annoyed with himself. He opened the door to outside.**** The train started before Wesley Hollinger realized he had lost the man in the dark-rimmed glasses. please. A pause. No sign of him on the concourse. but you had better have another and get a good sleep out of it. “Excuse me.. I don’t know what you were drinking. the last stop..” Hollinger said into the receiver. “Operator.
“Lampert here.” “Where are you?” “Glasgow. He got the secretary. sir. and studied them. sir. Margaret.” “Colonel? It’s Wesley.” “Confounded man! How did you manage that?” “He got off with some others. “Colonel. I want a little more respect. He dropped the appropriate ones into the slots. You’re not going to like this. The phone began to ring. Then.” “Respect?” “You know what I’m talking about. By the way. first..” Hollinger waited for a response. you must have had a hard day. Wesley. Would you be so kind as to get your damn tail off me?” “Wesley. .” **** 270 . pulled out a fistful of coins. Call him off! Now! Before I notify Wild Bill that a certain organization has been spying on a representative from the White House. Click-click .” “Yes. .Hollinger dug into his back pocket. are you there?” “Wesley. What do you have?” “Not much.” “Where?” “Near Motherwell. I lost him. What tail are you referring to?” “I’ve been followed for months and you know it. do not speak another word over this line..
Jordan asked directions for the Orkney Inn. Right there by the road. that’s all. colonel. sir. “Keep it up?” “That’s what I said.” “So what! Keep up your surveillance. A smell in the air indicated rain on the way. Nobody followed him. Scotland It worked. If you say so.” “Yes. Just don’t get caught.” “I do. At a pub a block from the train stop. Take the west road out of town. He’d have to hurry. But he had to be sure. Jordan’s legs were sore by the time he peddled off the tarred road leading into the old stone and clapboard 271 . “He knows. again.” **** Near Motherwell. Jordan borrowed the owner’s bicycle with the promise he’d return it.10 Downing Street Churchill listened to the voice on his C-phone receiver in the depths of the War Room. then past the stone wall. the owner said.” Churchill answered. A quick exit was the only answer. With dark clouds approaching from the west. Turn right at the clump of trees and go about two or three miles. Nothing to it. Piece of cake. Maybe no one was after him at all. Don’t stop now.
in dirty coveralls and rubber boots. And it all looked worse under the rain and the dark. except for the occasional heavy woods and bushes. the 272 . Ten minutes later. Jordan had never been impressed by the moors. and in desperate need of a new muffler. This was a farmer’s rain. They squeaked loudly. let out the clutch. small sheep and cattle herds. stepped down from a dented truck and met the journalist near the door. The stranger pushed the starter.Orkney Inn. “Yes. grinding the first two gears. “You Stephen Jordan?” He offered his hand. A few minutes from here. chilly.” “You bet.” The stranger’s breath smelled of pipe tobacco. appraising the Londoner. “Up the road. A whiskered farmer about fifty. How are you?” “Don’t ask. Leave the bike round the corner. This was ugly. “Where are we going?” Jordan asked. Hop in. Rain began to fall. The truck was drafty. cloudy skies.” They got into the truck. but were doing the job. lad. No foreseeable letup. and pulled onto the road. and scattered buildings. sir. The bench seat had worn through in spots. Steady. just in time. He had made it. desolate country. It’s safe here. The stranger put the wipers on. In the gravel lot were a few trucks and autos. exposing the padding.” “How are you?” “Can’t complain. He pressed the accelerator of the rough-running motor.
Him and me go back a long way.” Jordan spotted the grassy ridge through the rain. this briefcase and papers?” “A few months. looking. something’s fishy about that Rudolf Hess flight.” “Everybody here in these parts is saying the same thing. He said you were trustworthy. For weeks the Secret Service were all over here. .farmer braked the noisy machine to a standstill opposite a grassy field. You can still see the plow marks. Inside a zipper part of a briefcase. “Hess’s plane came down there.” “How do you know they were looking for papers?” “I figured it out once I had a look at them. “I know the person who found them. The man pointed. I mean. “How long has this person had .” “Tell him thanks for the vote of confidence.” “You bet there is. about two miles from the crash site. if you look close. Jack Buford.” “Looking? Looking for what?” “Lost papers that were in the plane. The gist is that the German plane had free passage.” “I will.” “You saw the papers?” The man nodded. .” “Jack Buford told me that too. The papers. Certain people I know thought you might be interested.” 273 . You made a pretty fair impression on someone who happens to be a good friend of mine. You know.
lad. “Good morning. When do I get to see these papers?” The farmer reached under his seat and pulled out a leather briefcase. Daily Telegraph. He dialed and waited. May I please speak with Stephen Jordan?” “Hold on. I will connect you to his department.” said the newspaper operator.” A voice came on the line. “Good morning. It’s up to you to find out if they’re on the up and up. lad. “Here it is. “It’s a deal. Just leave us out of your investigation. pleased with his luck. please.” “What does this person want for them?” “Nothing.” Jordan stirred in his seat. “Editorial.” “Stephen Jordan?” 274 . with a telephone number on a piece of paper. Trafalgar 3-2-2-6.” “Thank you. In the early afternoon. You never met us or saw us. he walked to a sidewalk phone booth. We don’t like Churchill nor the Duke of Hamilton neither. looking around.” **** London Eiser had a good night’s sleep and a hefty breakfast that morning.“Those papers could have something to do with her.
Bates. do you always carry your medical bag with you?” “Why. . thank you. “That won’t be necessary. Dr.” “From Liverpool?” “Yes. But when he left the booth. He gave left rudder. returning the card. yes. wing. height . “There you are. Eiser remained calm.” The man looked at the made-in-Berlin fake. “Official Red Cross work. and the port engine. the Firth of Clyde glistened in the moonlight. Over the nose. . Color of eyes .” “Incidentally. With a war on I am a doctor twentyfour hours a day. Suddenly. Won’t be back till Monday morning.” The policeman studied Eiser curiously.“Not here. sir. Carry on. 275 . and asked for an identity card. . .” Eiser hung up.” **** Camp Z He felt for the parachute under his seat. “A doctor. I do. date of birth . I’m afraid. bullets punctured his cockpit. . sir.” Eiser tipped his cap.” “Long way from home. I’ll call him then. are you?” “Yes. . he was stopped by a military policeman. Any message?” “No. What might you be doing here?” Eiser put his hand into his medical bag. if you care to see them. “Good day. I have the papers. sir.
Straining was more like it. 276 . This is where I get out. and considered Dungavel Castle. he tried again. somewhere. He was free. He jumped. He shoved. . pushing him back again. sliding back the cabin. No flutter. His only way out was back to the mainland. . He was terrified. He was now on a mission of peace. He swore. one engine out. No kick in the pants. Hard. The only running engine was vibrating the fighter. until it stood on its tail. The fighter climbed and climbed. He knocked his head. He reached overhead. He struggled. The briefcase was torn from his hand. The ground came rising up to meet him. Dizzy for a moment. Nothing happened. The fighter was hanging on by a prayer. He pulled and pulled. and was thrown back. He spread his body out and pulled the chord. He threw his gun and stiletto out the hole in the broken window. slipping into the parachute . The fighter hung motionless for a brief. It stalled. The turbulent slipstream stole his breath away. The Duke of Hamilton’s castle. Complete darkness. Dungavel Castle is out there .The RPM’s and pressures fell off. . He stuck his head too far into the open slipstream. the other barely running. . splitsecond of time. he said to himself. He heaved back on the stick to send the nose up. his right hand on the briefcase. He pushed. He banked hard to port and nosed down. Six thousand feet. A water landing was impossible at night.
Schubert was dreaming again. He rubbed his sweaty face. It took him several moments to comprehend where he was.Then he woke up in his bed. Yes. Maryhill Barracks? No. Farnborough. Farnborough. 277 . A bright light overhead.
by the door. in a way. The American Embassy seemed the most obvious. where Jordan washed his hands and face. All it would take was one interview and he’d know. One interview. The man followed him in. while Jordan did his business into the urinal. With the papers. But did they know the information already? It had nothing to do with the British. he noticed a tall man leaning against the far wall. near the elevator. providing the papers were not fakes. Jordan could obtain the secrets of the prisoner. or whoever the prisoner was. then joined him at the sinks. really. he could use it as leverage with the Prime Minister’s office to interview Hess. One look. It concerned them. When Jordan left his office and went to the Men’s Room.CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE London – December 1 Stephen Jordan squirmed at his newsroom desk. contemplating his next move. But. then again. “Stephen?” 278 . It was hard to know who to reach with the papers. They were the only two inside. Jordan thought it odd that the man waited inside.
” “Eiser?” Jordan was stunned. .” “How?” “I hear you’ve been asking about Hess. what happened? Where have you been?” “Surgery. His face was entirely different.” “Good job. I dare say. . . He had a dark tan.” Eiser’s tone grew low. “But . “I need your help. I want to know the same things you do – is he for real or not. Stephen.” “Adam Eiser. A German bomb got me. A moustache.” “You too? Why?” “I have my own reasons. I joined the Army. But the rest . gray on the sides. “Hello again. old friend. The voice and the steel-gray eyes were the same. And the hair – short. “Do I know you?” “Don’t you recognize me?” Jordan thought there was something in the man’s deep voice that was vaguely familiar. “No .” “How did you know that?” “It doesn’t matter.Jordan looked over. I don’t think so. Like any newspaperman. . Jordan still wasn’t sure. I work for the International Red Cross. Medical mostly. . old man. I had my face burned during the evacuation at Dunkirk. 279 . .” Eiser said. It had been two or three years since the Anglo-German Fellowship meetings. The doctors fixed me up after my invalid release.
I suppose you have a plan?” “I do. “But I can’t explain here. you came to the right person. That’s as close as I got. Where is the prisoner now?” “Mytchett Place. anyway. I know. I must know everything about this Camp Z and what kind of official identification I need to pass the gate and the checkpoints. I’ve been there. Jordan phoned the Army to confirm Adam Eiser’s status with that part of the service. Don’t be seen with me in public. There was no record of any Eiser with any branch of the Army in 1939. 280 . I’m being tailed. Interviews have been refused. Armed to the teeth. It’s a stonewall. What’s worse. Camp Z.” **** In the afternoon. for God’s sake. Two heads are better than one. “Where is that?” “Some old country mansion near Farnborough.we want the truth.” Eiser said.” “Maybe. “Thanks for telling me. We have to talk.” “You are? Who?” “I don’t know. I saw the prisoner from a few hundred feet away.” Jordan said. That’s another thing. They’ll tail you too. Outside. The Prime Minister ignores my questions regarding the prisoner. All the time. 1940 or 1941. Perhaps.” Eiser smiled. “I can’t find anything out. they call it. we can work together.” Jordan shook his head.
By nightfall. He knocked at room 310. The traffic had been too congested for blocks. “Here’s your permission from the British Foreign Office to speak with Hess. He passed the American Embassy. “Did anyone follow you?” Eiser asked. for fear of his home and office lines being tapped. “Official office stationary. Eiser opened. with Jordan emphasizing the secrets on how to get through the gate. At night? He didn’t wish to phone.” “Come in. Now what? Try another day. taking countless turns. What was Eiser up to? It would make for a smashing story.This didn’t sit well with the newspaperman. Blasted! He couldn’t go in. His shadow was out there and would see everything.” Jordan slipped Eiser a letter-sized envelope. with the hope of losing the shadow. he was sure that he had. and drove to Eiser’s hotel. mid-autumn day. Signed by Sir Alexander Cadogan with his office stamp. briefcase in hand. “I lost him. looking up and down the hall. He had to keep his wits about him. containing a sheet of paper.” Eiser shut the door and the two went into the plan over a bottle of brandy. 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. Jordan kept the papers stuffed inside his shirt. 281 .
Now there’re one hundred and thirty troops guarding him night and day.” “Without that sheet they’ll turn you back.” Eiser opened it. A damn good one.All you have to do is fill in your name.” “Now. Just hope they don’t call the Foreign Office for verification. “Anything else?” “Yes.” Eiser put the envelope in his shirt pocket.” Jordan sighed.” “Of course.” “Excellent. in the bushes and trees. then again on the first floor. Outside. The prisoner’s quarters have been replaced with armored glass. Another thing. of course. he probably can’t move too fast. I figure it’s someone close to the situation. Typed. A guard in Camp Z. They will ask for your ID at the gate. especially now. “The armed guards are everywhere. The prisoner goes for walks in the gardens. he tried some stupid suicide attempt back in June when he leaped over a rail and fell down one floor.” “Where did you get it?” Jordan thought of the phone call and one of the letters in his mailbox. “Is the signature authentic?” “A forgery. who wants to stay anonymous. tell me more about this Mytchett Place. Inside. Watch what you say. The British record 282 . where his bedroom and study is. Then you are in. So. He broke his thigh and had it in a cast until September. Too ruddy cold. but stays inside most of the time. “An anonymous friend. The walls have ears.
” “But I thought we were working together. Stephen. I don’t think I’ll be needing you after this. They each took a floor.” **** Hollinger and the Blue Force team led by Max Preston entered the front lobby of the rundown four-story hotel and moved into position. You see. But there wasn’t anything else to go on. It was a long shot. Preston carefully considered what Hollinger had told him the day before. Stephen?” “I’m a married man. My wife is expecting me. One of Eiser’s associates was Stephen Jordan. Well. You know where to find me. No one is to know I’m in England.” “I can’t do that. as they had suspected. They will send the guards bursting in there in seconds if they feel something isn’t quite right. then he could possibly contact one or two or more of his AngloGerman Fellowship friends.every word.” **** 283 . who Hollinger had already been shadowing. If Eiser had taken a train all the way to London. I work alone. **** Jordan stood up.” “Yes. I’d like to know what you find out about the prisoner. Hollinger on the third. “Going so soon. Preston on the second. I answer to a higher authority.
He withdrew his gun from his holster. He crossed the room. His hand grazed something. He turned to Stephen Jordan. a man’s low scream and what sounded like a struggle. “Jordan? Is that you? Are you in there? Jordan! Open up!” **** Eiser’s eyes went to the alley. He gathered up his hat. Eiser slid the blackout curtains and window up. The briefcase beside him was empty. Hollinger bent down. . The window was wide open. then a loud bang on the wall. A loan for twenty million dollars! 284 . His only way out. Then silence. He pulled it out and took out the contents. crackling underneath Jordan’s shirt. They were waiting for him. and flipped the body over. It was a trap. barely making a sound. His broken glasses a yard away. Again. He ran to it and looked down the fire escape. pounding on the door. face down on the floor in a small pool of blood. “Jordan!” he heard from the door. **** Hollinger crashed the door down and punched on the light. The paragraph in the middle of the first page jolted him. and darted for the window. .Hollinger heard the fight from the hall. the second page. He ran up. coat and carrying bag. He undid three buttons and saw a large manila envelope. flicked the lights out. He scanned the first page .
Rather handsome. I had it pegged right. Liverpool accent.” 285 . “Nothing left in the room. “And a slit throat. Max Preston ran in. You get one guess who’s been here.” “He traveled light. Could this be what Jordan drove past the American Embassy with? Footsteps in the hall startled Hollinger. Thin moustache. He folded the envelope into fours and squeezed it into his inside coat pocket. “Six-foot-two. Gray over the ears and above the neck. I checked around the alley.” Preston and Hollinger conferred in the dark alley after questioning the desk clerk. Gray or blue-gray.” Hollinger rose to his feet. Didn’t find anything. Short hair. “Precisely.” “But we were late again. he thought. He couldn’t remember. and looked down at Jordan. “Acid burns!” “Yep.“Son of a bitch!” he said aloud.” “The front desk said he remembered the man. Same kind of mark. Neatly trimmed. Brush cut. And a tanned face.” Preston said. twirling his fedora.” “He sure picked a dump to stay in. “I must have just missed him. Said he gave his name as Barrow. For the first time.” “So he’s seen some sun since the surgery. reading from a note pad over a small flashlight.” said Hollinger. we have a pretty fair description of him. Light-colored eyes. Hollinger glanced up to the third-floor fire escape.” Preston said.
” He paused. he didn’t feel the least bit remorseful about taking the papers from Jordan’s body. He loosened his tie. Rolling up his sleeves. The typed sheets appeared official enough. He flung his hat. dated May 9. Between them and us. and poured a drink. The Falcon File. “I wonder.” “Like he did with Denise. he cracked his knuckles. Hess’s identification! Hollinger knew that much from the beginning of the year. He opened to page two of the papers he had found on Jordan. then eliminated him so he couldn’t identify him.“What do you think happened?” “Eiser could have squeezed some information from Jordan. I’ll ring Lampert and give him the update. Destination – Deputy Augsburg 3526/52. He took a sip of wine. Given the conditions. Who’s next?” Hollinger asked. 1941. Point of origin – a German by the last name of Bremmel. we’ll turn London upside-down. He’ll undoubtedly notify MI-5. and jacket on the sofa. coat. An Enigma II transmission. and reached behind him to the cabinet to fetch a bottle of wine and a clean glass. He sat up. 286 . He was tired. and plunged his sixfoot frame into the chair. “What the bloody-hell does Eiser want in England?” **** Hollinger returned to his flat after ten that evening. but his mind was functioning clearly.
Any idiot could figure it out. all laid out in detail. The significance of the information was brought home to him. Think. Found near the crash site. Hell. Why not? Had Hess brought these with him on his peace mission? Yeah. Had someone been feeding him these documents. One of those not far from Glasgow. Each bank. When the loans were signed. Hollinger closed his eyes. an agenda of defection and forewarning. Nazi war factories! Hollinger read on.S. that was possible. the jet aircraft. Hell. He had warned the British of the death camps. there was a possibility. Hollinger took a bigger sip of wine. how did Jordan come by them? He had made two trips to Scotland. Filberg. Filberg. May 10. it seemed.The pages were based on information that Bremmel had received in confidence from the firm that had employed him. The transmission had been sent to Hess. 287 . yeah. the atomic weapons. 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. Incredible. or were they found near the crash site? Someone in Great Britain had been holding the information. I. Wesley. His blood was up. So why not a possible NaziAmerican alliance? Hess too had a plan when he left Augsburg that day. Now. had been receiving loans from several American banks to the tune of millions of dollars in order to finance their war factories. His home – America. Each German factory. Here it was.
Then he had his answer. Had Hess received the information the day before he had left Augsburg? Amazing. . This had to be a bad dream. But how would he get into it? He swallowed the wine in his glass and filled it again. and a third glass. Desperately. piecing it all together. Then it came to him. He consumed a second . The Falcon File. . considering the possibilities. Of course. Hollinger put his head in his hands. Hollinger picked the papers up and pressed them in his hand. like it or not. 288 .Now Washington was brought into this. His stomach was in knots. And he didn’t stop there. The Falcon File would provide the answer. he dredged his own subconscious for answers. May 9. He was suddenly – unexpectedly – mentally and physically exhausted.
Eiser slipped the plastic gloves on over the cracked sink. He let the dye set. to find if he’d have an allergic reaction to the chemicals. and cleaned the mess in the sink. Jason Bates on the government document given to him by Jordan. It was evenly centered. He knew he had no time to try a patch test. He had to work quickly. He did a good job too. 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. carefully shaved his moustache off.CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO London – December 2 Eiser had slept badly. massaging it in with his hands as he went. and poured the black dye into his hair. fresh turtleneck sweater. and swallowed a Benzedrine. and blazer. The sun would rise soon and he had to be out of the guesthouse before the others woke. He washed his hair to remove the coloring from the scalp. 289 . took the bottle in his right hand. the way most people did. Then he threw on his trousers. He closed the door to the lavatory and stripped to his undershorts and socks. He washed up.
But she was moving around. Hollinger. I’m afraid so. She walked towards him. Her leg still seemed to be giving her some pain. politely. Probably her only one in London right now.” “You seem . “How’s the leg?” 290 . she appeared down the hall.” She leaned closer and dropped her voice. a small piece of luggage in her hand. ma’am. out of Whitchurch. the London Times.” “Thank you. Mr. “Miss Harris will be out straightaway. ma’am. Ten minutes later. Miss Harris. Hollinger got up and removed his hat.” He eyed his watch. We’ve booked a New York bound Clipper flight for you this afternoon.**** Hollinger checked in at the second floor of Guys Hospital. sir. “In a few minutes. chipper. do I?” He shook his head. ma’am.” Hollinger said. A plane in London will fly you there.” “I don’t have any choice in the matter.” “Hi there yourself. “Is that the other part of the deal?” He took her away a few feet. In the waiting area was a man in a leg cast. “Are you a relative?” “A friend. . “Yes. actually. Another man was steadying himself on crutches.” “What are you doing here?” “I’ve come to escort you to the London airport. smiling.” Hollinger answered the ward nurse politely. . He sat on a nearby bench and browsed through the city’s tabloid. “Hi there.
**** The drive through the London war zone in the drafty top-up MG convertible obviously depressed her. Lead the way. Gosh! She was really quite pretty. A light green.” She did a quick twirl. In less than a week. boldly.” She raised her hand. The MG was not new by any means. Twenty thousand Londoners have died so far.” This was the writer’s first ride in a cramped English sports car. across the city. the craters. the cracked pavement. Come on. “I didn’t realize it was like this. It had a powerful well-tuned motor. tossing her hair with her hand. it’s not.” “Not a pleasing picture. 291 . is it?” “No.” she uttered.” he said. Too pretty. She had makeup on. A Betty Grable type. “Charmer. and took her down the elevator. she seemed to have recovered miraculously from her injuries. But I can walk on it. it looked great on her. “What do you think?” Hollinger looked at the new dress the MI-6 had purchased for her.“Sore. “See?” “Great.” He smiled. but functional. The arm’s fine.” “This is probably the worst area. the bombed-out buildings. “Don’t you look smashing. “Geez. Structures not damaged by German bombs were reinforced by sandbags. reached for her new suitcase.
Hollinger drove it fast. aren’t I? Thanks for your help. Sort of.” “I’m sorry things couldn’t have worked out better for you.” “Well. “Slow down.” “You seem confident of that.” “Do you think we’ll get into this war?” she asked him bluntly. will you. “I’m in a bit of a hurry. and retrieved her luggage from the back. Long.” He let off the pedal. The pilot was waiting outside the machine.” Hollinger shook hands with her.” They reached the airport and Hollinger braked in front of the twin-engined Avro Anson on the tarmac.” “I am. naturally.” She shrugged. weaving in and out of traffic. “OK. I want to live. “Yeah. Either here in Europe or the Pacific. making several pedestrians gawk. “I’m alive. we will.” “Sorry. The new clothes and everything. Hollinger opened the car door for Harris. “Thank you. 292 . Some day.” she said. What are you going to do when you return to the States?” “Ask for another assignment. “You’re welcome. He squealed the tires around one corner. I have to get back.” she answered.
and evaluate his medical condition. sir.” She looked at him strangely. The guard leaned over.” she said. sir. What might I do for you?” “My name is Dr. He had to take the back roads. **** 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. please. The toughest. trying not to be noticed. Bates. He had taken his time driving. “Yes. Jordan had told him.“Good luck.” “The nature of your business?” “To see the prisoner. And he had to conserve the siphoned fuel in the tank.” 293 . A private auto was a rare sight in the wartime British countryside. he was on his way. She doubted that she would ever lay eyes on him again. He could feel his second Benzedrine kicking in with a punch. Once past here. maybe. An armed guard stopped him. holding his palm up. Maybe we’ll see each other again some time. It was the first of two checkpoints at Mytchett.” “Papers. He rolled the window down. his breath steaming in the cool air. I’ve come on behalf of the International Red Cross. “Yeah.” “Yes.
“And where were you?” She turned around and blinked once.” The guard returned everything. “I had the morning off.” **** MI-6 Headquarters Hollinger found Langford standing by the window. “Do you have any identification?” “Yes. “Dr. “Very well. Jason Bates?” “Yes.” Eiser showed him the three Berlin phonies – driver’s licence. She was there for him. She was wearing an attractive outfit – blue jacket. and the War Office pass. the stamp.” Then she thought twice on what she had said.Eiser dug into his medical bag for the credentials – the Red Cross and British Foreign Office verification. and pushed a note at her.” The guard pursed his lips. ID card.” He closed the door behind him. and birth certificate. white blouse. The guard closely examined the forged signature of Sir Alexander Cadogan on the latter sheet. smoking a cigarette. You may proceed. He was her boss. Eiser heaved a sigh deep inside. Park on the left. The guard scanned them for several seconds. 294 . “What concern of that is yours? I’m not at your beck and call. and the Red Cross paper. “Thank you. matching blue shirt.
. I’ve seen it before. indeed. . Get a load of this. We’re safe. to Deputy Augsburg . Falcon File transmission from the Bremmel . then Hess might have been trying to warn us of an agreement between American bankers and German war factories.” “I need your help. . If we received it at Bletchley. her voice cracking. “I know.” “Wunderbar. . May 9.” He handed her the contents of a manila envelope. . . “I have something to show you.” “I was off that day in May.” “Yes.” “OK. “American bank loans to .” She seemed to foresee what was coming. Tell me what you make of it.” “Oh. I remember. I was in London. You have that look in your eye. See the date?” “Yes. Here. It would have come through Bletchley.” “There’s one way of checking this out to see if it’s on the level. Hess. .” “You’d know the answer to that one. then we did have prior knowledge. in Berlin . “No. If that’s the case.” 295 . Hess!” He nodded. “Where did you get it?” “A long story.” She took papers from Hollinger’s outstretched hand. my. . No time to go into it. Her trained eye scanned the material in a flash.She read: Is the room bugged? “Well?” She shook her head. “Yes. the Germans?” She looked up. but is it genuine? It could be a fake.
” Hollinger put the papers into the envelope.” she argued. Her shoes were off.Langford stood up and came around the front of her desk. as usual. but. And chances are Churchill and Lampert know about it.” “Why?” “To use it against somebody – us – at the opportune time. I don’t know if I have one for that one. the Hess intercepts are under the Confidential section. But we have to find out. And there might not be anything there.” “Only if there’s another copy in the file room. I’d be thrown out of the Secret Service for good. someone could have destroyed them. and are keeping it under wraps. then it was part of Hess’s package.” “Yes. You’d be sent back to Washington. I don’t. Blacklisted forever.” 296 .” “Worse. Let’s try.” “Now all we have to do is confirm this. “I don’t like this. “Except.” “We just won’t get caught. If unauthorized people were caught in there. “We’d need permission from Lampert. that’s all.” She shook her head.” “Some of the locks could be the same. You have access to the room. “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. we’re—” “Up the creek without a paddle. Got a key?” “I have a number of keys for the different rooms.
“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
. glancing up. First. his face bruised. “Does London . No trial. Preston cleared his throat. “You refuse to cooperate – we kill you.” Preston pointed to his chest. The signal. old boy. staring coldly at the German spy.” “I’m not terribly fond of that one. Preston nodded. Frankly. and dragged him into a nearby meadow. you’re considered too dangerous. Me. He had survived a vicious interrogation in which he hadn’t cracked. . extracting his gun from his holster. you can work for us and feed information back to Germany – information that we tell you to send. What’s the second option?” Preston checked the gun chamber of his pistol.” 314 . He looked up at Preston. The two men in the first car – one of them Max Preston – followed seconds behind. “I’ve been informed by MI-6 to give you your options.” “I was one of the three agents who came to arrest you. “Now do you remember?” “So?” Eiser was unmoved. “Should I?” answered Adam Eiser. about . forming a circle of men and steamy breath. And you threw acid on another. August.yanked out a man whose hands were bound. putting him in the hospital for weeks. You stabbed one. . 1939 ring a bell?” “Not especially. The bound man was pushed to his knees in the soft earth. The others stood around. “Remember me?” Preston asked. .
He examined Eiser’s face for a hint of repentance. pathetic waste. our Intelligence has been intercepting all of Germany’s military signals. “Deutschland.” “Sorry. didn’t we?” “Mere luck. wiping his cheek with a handkerchief. “I’ll let you in on a little secret. the war is over. and air force are going to do in advance.” Preston rammed the muzzle at the back of Eiser’s neck and fired once. How touching.” “I regret nothing.” Preston replied.” He spit in the Englishman’s face.” “I will. .” “Too bad.“I’ll take neither. Herr Eiser. . “Where did you go wrong? An Englishman?” Eiser showed no concern.” “We caught you. “It’s not nice to call me a dirty pig.” Preston sighed. We know what your army. if you must. controlling his anger. my Deutschland.” Preston smiled. Eiser let out a wretched. before your own mid-range commanders do. 315 . navy. For over a year now.’’ “Sieg Heil!” “Poor man. For you. “Schweinehund!” “I know my German. Such a . There wasn’t any. Eiser. Do what you have to do. Amateurs? I think not. low groan as he fell sideways. can’t do.” “Amateurs.
a courier arrived with a decoded message from Hamburg. Eiser was the exception. “Yes?” “Herr Reichsfuehrer. Herr Reichsfuehrer. TO HEINRICH HIMMLER WE HAVE YOUR MAN TOMMIE PLEASE BE SO KIND AS TO SHOVE IT UP YOUR ASS YOUR FRIENDS THE ENGLISH Himmler didn’t appreciate the vulgar side of British humor. He wasn’t going to mark this in his date book. watching the blood flow onto the ground. So much for becoming the Fuehrermaster. So much for keeping an eye on the poodlekiller.” Preston said. He didn’t enjoy killing people. left the sealed envelope on his desk.“Bon voyage. and departed. He adjusted his pince-nez. For now. **** Gestapo Headquarters Heinrich Himmler answered his intercom. He crumpled the paper into a ball and threw it across the room. Eiser. However. It’s for you. **** 316 . The Gestapo leader cut at it with his gold-plated letter opener.” “Bring it in at once. upon his return.” “Yawohl.” The adjutant entered Himmler’s office.
The Japanese Task Force had been on the open sea for a week. CLIMB MOUNT NIITAKA It was confirmed. December 8. in Hawaii. Vice Admiral Chuichi Nagumo was to proceed southeast and attack the U. December 7. Tokyo time. at dawn. 317 . still undetected.Pacific Ocean They crossed the international dateline.S. There was no turning back now. Navy ships. and the Army and Navy airfields as planned. when the coded message came over the wireless.
He was weighed down like the others with a winter-issue parka. gusting to one hundred miles per hour. with snowflakes in the air that melted once they touched ground. a parachute and life vest. with icy conditions. Scheduled North Atlantic winter crossings were always terrifying at best with the Ferry Command aircraft overloaded with men and gasoline. The air was usually piercing cold.CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR Prestwick. a fleeced flying suit. knowing damn well that he wouldn’t stand a fiddler’s chance if the aircraft had the misfortune of going down over the 318 . At two in the morning. Hollinger waddled aboard the idling black British Overseas Airways B-24 Liberator with the dozen or so adventurers – pilots and airmen – for the return trip to RAF Ferry Command Headquarters in Montreal. The buffeting westerly headwinds were often raw. The accommodations were cramped. But it was still the quickest route to Washington. It would be no milk run. thick gloves. Scotland – December 5 Landlubber Wesley Hollinger decided to accept the risks as par for the course.
Rescue missions were out of the question. Therefore. forcing him to dive for sea level. The North Atlantic headwinds were the strongest at sea level. Heavy on his mind were the two Dorval-bound BOAC B24’s that had crashed into the Scottish hills in August. Two hours into the unforgiving Atlantic airstream. It was deathly dark. over 2. Climb and dive. The B-24 took off and climbed into the scattered cloud. the pilot had to climb to thinner air. Forty-four in total had died. to conserve fuel. Too bad he couldn’t do a crossword. assuming anyone would ever receive the radio signal in the first place. through the cracks in the bomb bay. There. Fortunately. where the wing would ice up. instantly. Hollinger laid down on one of the mattresses on the plywood deck above the bomb bay – head-to-toe with the group of airmen – and flipped on his oxygen mask. the ice would come sliding off the wing. On one occasion. The flight would take approximately sixteen hours from Prestwick to Dorval. so much ice formed inside one engine that it quit temporarily. both minutes out of Prestwick and only four days apart. lit by the moonlight. and crash against the fuselage. Quebec.000 miles of nervewracking boredom. This flight did not sit well with him. 319 . Hollinger could see the ground off and on. Hollinger had deciphered the pilot’s strategy. but later came back to life at sea level. the hum of the engines eventually dropped Hollinger off to sleep.ocean.
**** Kaflavik. Then one engine quit. Huddled under a thick blanket. He knew something sounded different. the sunlight wouldn’t last long. He started to perspire. gasping in the mask cramped to his mouth. for sure. How long had he been out? He didn’t know. Hollinger saw the ocean below through the crack by his face. This far north in December.He woke up. Iceland Hollinger heard the bad news once they had landed safely at the Royal Air Force base on the south coast of the island. **** 320 . He turned away. But this time the engine didn’t start. his body a block of ice. He couldn’t tell how far away the white caps were. And number four was leaking oil to boot. A few thousand feet. The exposed flesh on his face was freezing. British mechanics determined that the B-24’s number two engine had an electrical short. They went into another dive. He still had several hours to go. He was going to catch his death of cold by the time the aircraft landed. Hollinger flicked his eyes open. It needed parts. Only daylight between the Liberator and the vast expanse of water. He began to doze off.
they probably wouldn’t return. It was a long-winded thirteen-part communiqué that the Ambassador was told not to deliver to the Americans 321 . a sealed envelope was delivered to President Roosevelt. 3 submarine tenders. 17 destroyers. 3 destroyers. Yet. That day. two returning the day before. The big prizes. were gone. Heinemann squatted in the weeds and wrote down his assessment of Pearl Harbor and the sought-after Battleship Row. the carriers. But no Enterprise. All four of them. Hawaii Edgar Heinemann adjusted the focus range on his binoculars and looked over the waterway from Aiea Heights. However. At least an outside chance. Perhaps by Sunday or Monday. the latest decoded Japanese message sent from Tokyo to its Washington Embassy. the Lexington steamed out. the cruiser escort attached to the Enterprise had returned after being out of harbor for a week. 3 cruisers. Not now. Five of the battleships had remained in port for a week. Whereabouts unknown. **** The White House – December 6 At 0930 hours. All 4 carriers at sea. In dock: 4 cruisers.Pearl Harbor. With the weekend coming on. Ships at anchor at 1800 hours: 9 battleships. The Hornet and Yorktown had not been heard from for days. accompanied by five heavy cruisers.
Harry. The US Ambassador in Tokyo had been warning Washington for months of an armed conflict somewhere in the Pacific. One part – the fourteenth point – was held back until further notice. Not at all. Then. and said to Hopkins. Then the deadline was extended another four days. The President wondered aloud what was in the fourteenth part as he turned to his adviser. one specifically against sabotage. The US forces in Hawaii had received and acted upon two alerts. the American code-breakers had intercepted a message from Tokyo to their Embassy in Washington. “I don’t like it. Mr. Roosevelt knew it was all coming to a head. President. 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.until specified by Tokyo. on December 2. put the thirteen-part message down.” 322 . They were ordered to wait until the 25th for a reply. cleared the bile in his throat. The President turned. “Harry. ordering Nomura and Kurusu to destroy their codebooks. American codebreakers had been receiving and decoding Japanese messages depicting their dissatisfaction with Washington. The Japanese were riled. Harry Hopkins. what do you make of it?” Hopkins only sighed.” “Neither do I.
“Treason. .” “Is it against the law to watch the Harbor?” “No. not ten feet away. Tora!” 323 .” **** Within sight of Pearl Harbor.CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE Pearl Harbor Edgar Heinemann stood in the weeds on the hillside across the Harbor. “Yes. Here they come. the leader of the attack.” one of them said. “Edgar Heinemann?” The German spun around to see two tall men in suits. Now. radioed Admiral Nagumo at sea. Tora. Come with us. The bright red-ball markings on the wings told him they were none other than . “You are under arrest. coolly.” he said. “Tora. Japanese. Commander Mitsuo Fichida. “What’s the charge then?” They both drew guns. . focusing on the sudden incoming flight of aircraft.
and drove away. the bomb explosions . He saw the ack-ack puffs from the American gunners . “What’s up. . the black smoke. How did they catch him so soon? **** Bolling Air Force Base It was early afternoon in Washington. . He could feel the concussion of the hits on the ships. you’ll never believe what I have in here. **** Edgar Heinemann saw it as the two men handcuffed him. . flung him into the black Mr. the first wave dive-bombers dove for the ships on and around Battleship Row. The second wave of one hundred and eighty-three aircraft was halfway to Oahu. He watched as the low-flying fighters beat a path to Battleship Row. alive with people who had just arrived from other flights. the waterspouts . . .” 324 . as the fighters targeted the nearby airfields. Kid? I knew it had to be important when you used our private code.” Hollinger slapped his briefcase.Tora meant Tiger. Within two minutes. crowded air terminal. Hollinger picked out the round face of Colonel Bill Donovan inside the noisy. The word repeated three times signified to Nagumo that his aircraft had caught the American Fleet by complete surprise. The Japanese Blitzkrieg was on. “Colonel. .
“Let’s talk in the car. I can’t hear myself think with this racket.” Donovan gave the keys to the government Packard to Hollinger. On the way to the new COI Headquarters on the corners of Pennsylvania and Constitution Avenues near Capitol Hill, he spoke hurriedly of the American loans. Donovan listened long and hard, eyeing Hollinger’s May 9 Falcon File paperwork proof, before he responded. “I know all this, Wesley.” “You do?” “Yes, I do. I have a spy inside one of the firms mentioned here, at Kerr, Chapman & Company. They’re the ones holding all the loan paperwork for the Wall Street banking conglomerate dealing with the German businessmen.” “You’re referring to the I.S. Filberg mentioned there?” “That’s them, Wesley. It’s a big industrial business outfit. The largest in Europe. Been around for a few years.” “Sir, now that the British know about this banking deal, what can we do?” “Hell if I know.” Following a long period of silence, Donovan clicked the radio on. It was the middle of a special broadcast, something about Hawaii. He turned the volume up. In stunned silence, they listened. The out of breath announcer repeated the news flash three times. The Japanese had attacked Pearl Harbor. It had to be a joke.
Donovan changed the station. The same thing was on another frequency. He turned to Hollinger. “They did it, Wesley! The bastards attacked us!” The COI leader pointed through the windshield. “Stop here.” Hollinger pulled the car over to the curb on Pennsylvania Avenue.
The State Department, Washington
Japanese diplomats Nomura and Kurusu delivered the fourteenth part of the December 6th message to Secretary of State Cordell Hull, who by now had received the shocking news from Hawaii. Worse, a second wave of Japanese aircraft had struck. The diplomats were one hour late, and looked embarrassed. The fourteenth part was a declaration of war. In anger, Hull told them what he thought of them and shooed them out the door.
Donovan and Hollinger stared straight ahead through the windshield. “Did you know that reports have been out on a potential Pearl Harbor attack for months?” Donovan said. Hollinger turned his head. “You’re kidding! How! What gives?”
“In the spring, the Peruvian Ambassador in Tokyo overhead such a conversation between two Japanese diplomats. He told Joseph Grew, our Ambassador in Tokyo, and he notified Washington.” “Obviously nothing was done about it.” Donovan shrugged. “No proof. The attack had to hit home to be effective. Our code breakers – the same organization you had worked for – got wind of it too. In ample time. Tokyo were still in communication with their Embassy here at all times on the Purple traffic.” Donovan paused, then went on. “Back in October, our Army Signal Intelligence Service decrypted a message from Tokyo to Consul General Kita in Honolulu asking for the exact locations of our warships and carriers at Pearl Harbor. But something got lost in our translation to Hawaii.” “Was the information passed on to Kimmel or Short?” “Someone in Washington said no. That’s not all. A German spy, Edgar Heinemann, was sent to Honolulu in August and has been feeding the Japanese Consul with data for months. And we were ordered by Washington to lay off him completely, because we could intercept his messages anyway.” Hollinger instantly recognized the name Heinemann. Eiser’s mentor. “There’s going to be hell to pay now for Kimmel and Short,” Donovan continued. “Left in the dark and all.” “What do you mean, sir?” “They weren’t in on the code breaking.”
Hollinger felt sick. “You mean to tell me that the top Army and Navy commanders in Hawaii weren’t even told that we were reading the Japanese transmissions from Tokyo?” “That’s right.” Hollinger shook his head. “Why not? They were the closest to Japan.” “I don’t know. Maybe Washington didn’t want a leak.” “And now they’re going to take it on the chin, I bet?” “Chances are, they will.” “Sir, I remember what you said to me months ago on the way to the White House. Certain people wanted a war. You meant the banks, didn’t you? Wall Street banks.” “Yes, that’s who I meant. The same banking houses that financed Hitler when his men came calling hat in hand for loans a number of years ago, before the Nazis rose to power.” “Can these deals this year still be honored?” “Yes. We’re not at war with Germany, only with the Japanese.” “If Congress passes such a resolution.” “They will,” Donovan said. “There’s no doubt. But I don’t think they’re committed to two fronts. Germany didn’t attack us. Japan did. Under our Constitution, only Congress can declare war. We’ll see if Hitler plays it smart. Technically, we’re not at war with Germany. Hitler might just choose to stay out of it. Under the terms of the Italian-German-Japanese Triparte Pact, Germany doesn’t have to declare war on us since Japan
was the aggressor. However, we know that Hitler was doing his best to keep us out of this until the German army could at least defeat Russia. It’s forty below in Moscow now. Yesterday, Soviet General Zhukov – their last hope – launched a counteroffensive outside Moscow with thousands of fresh, well-clothed troops. Early reports are sketchy. We don’t know how it’s progressing. But we do know from our Embassy in Moscow that Stalin had fled the city. If Hitler does declare war on us, then his own reports must tell him that Russia is no more. As good as dead.” “Colonel?” Hollinger asked Donovan. “Yes, my boy.” “Seems to me that Washington and Wall Street wanted to get into this. And they could have used Japan to do it.” Donovan looked straight ahead. “I refuse to answer that on the grounds that it might incriminate me. Let’s go. The office will be buzzing today.” “What a way to run a war.” Hollinger removed his fedora and twirled it into the back seat. “Somebody has to be the scapegoat. Poor Kimmel and Short.” “Exactly. And the banks come out smelling like a rose. Let’s go.” Hollinger took hold of the steering wheel. “So, we’re in it.”
The House of Representatives – December 8
The President of the United States jerked to his metal legs and approached the podium for the urgent joint session of Congress. Every seat was occupied this noon period. Any other day at this hour most of the members would be gone for lunch. Not today. The President cleared his throat and commenced firing, his voice heavy with emotion. “Yesterday, December 7, 1941 – a date which will live in infamy – the United States of America was suddenly and deliberately attacked by naval and air forces of the Empire of Japan. Last night Japanese forces attacked Hong Kong. Last night Japanese forces attacked Guam.” The President paused, looking to Wild Bill and Hollinger in the balcony. He wasn’t talking out of both sides of his mouth now. “Last night Japanese forces attacked the Philippine Islands. Last night the Japanese attacked Wake Island. This morning the Japanese attacked Midway Island. With confidence in our armed forces, with the unbounding determination of our people, we will gain the
inevitable triumph, so help us God. I ask this Congress to declare that a state of war exists between the United States of American and the Empire of Japan.” Congress roared its approval with a standing ovation. President Roosevelt sat down. He could picture the future in a panoramic view, American factories pushing out shells, tanks, fighters, bombers, transports, aircraft carriers, and destroyers. Then an invasion of Japan. Roosevelt brought to mind the words of a great American, John Paul Jones. “I have not yet begun to fight.” How quickly opinion had changed. Once the war had begun in 1939, the isolationists and the Communist supporters had detested Roosevelt’s pro-British policies and his Lend-Lease shipments to the island. They had staged speeches, protests, and marches. Until Russia had been attacked in June. Then – like magic – Communist supporters were all in favor of Lend-Lease, especially, of course, to the Soviet Union, America’s overnight ally in the fight against Hitler. The last group, the isolationists, had now fallen with the news of Pearl Harbor. Throughout the morning, Roosevelt had been receiving phone calls and telegrams of support, many from the same isolationists who had been campaigning for America First the days, weeks, and months before. This was an infuriated America. This was a country on a war footing. The war wasn’t thousands of miles away any longer. It was right here, staring them all in the face. And the future was in the hands of Congress to decide.
The President looked up to the balcony. His eyes fell once more onto the grim faces of the two COI men. They saw the presidential stare. Hollinger stirred in his seat, thinking. The cry of Thank God for Hitler would be only a memory. Soon, it would be Remember Pearl Harbor. The applause died down. Donovan used the opportunity to turn to Hollinger and say, “There was one thing I failed to mention yesterday.” “What’s that, sir?” “If we go to war with Germany, the Wall Street banks win no matter what. They can’t lose. And I’ll tell you why. You’ve heard of the Federal Reserve?” “Yes. Sort of. The government money supply.” Donovan shook his head. “Wrong, my boy. Try private money supply. Let me give you a little history lesson here.” Donovan looked around, and continued. “In 1911, seven influential financial men met secretly to concoct a plan to control the American money supply. They made a proposal to Washington and Washington fell into step. Since 1913 with the passing of the Federal Reserve Act, the United States treasury has been in private hands, disguised as a government agency. The banks mentioned in your Falcon File all had people at that meeting. What I’m trying to say is that Wall Street controls Washington’s cash. They control the President. They put him in power. They financed him. They financed Hitler. They wanted this war. And they’ve made deals with the Nazis this year. And I know one other thing, too. A couple of those firms, one of them a Rockefeller bank,
put Lenin in power during the October Revolution in 1917.” “Our own bankers?” “It’s business, Wesley. Big business. Whenever somebody around the world wants money, they go to Wall Street.” Hollinger was crushed. “I don’t know what to say.” “What can you say?” “You know, at least Roosevelt’s off the hook,” Hollinger said. “Congress can’t impeach him now.” “Right. Let’s go,” Donovan said, checking his wristwatch. He had arranged a Clipper flight for Hollinger later that afternoon, a New York-to-Lisbon-to-London, under high priority. “Don’t want to miss your plane.” Hollinger turned and knocked into a woman. “Sorry, ma’am. Well, if it isn’t Miss Harris.” Lydia Harris smiled, fighting to find her voice. “Mr. Hollinger. I never expected to see you again.” “And what are you doing here?” “The New York Times sent me to Washington to cover the event.” “Came for the fireworks, did you?” “Yeah. You were right. We got into it.” Hollinger grinned. “Lucky guess. And you didn’t think we’d ever see each other again, did you?” Donovan tugged at Hollinger’s sleeve. “Time’s a wasting. Excuse us, Miss.” In the hall, Donovan asked, “She’s the one you’ve been telling me about, eh?” “Yes, sir. The MI-6 courier.”
“Nice-looking. Sharp dresser. Seems intelligent enough. After what she’s been through, the COI might be able to use her. I’ll keep her in mind.” The car radio was all war. On the way to the airport, Donovan and Hollinger listened to early reports from the Russian Front. General Zhukov’s fresh troops had turned back the Germans at the gates of Moscow. The Germans were in retreat. Then came the news of the vote. It took Congress thirty-three minutes to pass an overwhelming resolution declaring war on Japan.
London – December 11
Three days later, they were standing in the Big Guy’s Hole in the Ground below Whitehall, listening to Hitler’s speech to the German people over the clear shortwave signal. Hollinger interpreted the Fuehrer’s speech as best he could for Churchill, Lampert, and Langford. They were waiting patiently for the final phrase that they knew was sure to come. “Although Germany for her part, as always, strictly observed the rules of international law in her dealings with the United States throughout the present war, the Government of the United States has finally proceeded to overt acts of war against Germany. It has, therefore, virtually created a state of war. The Reich Government therefore breaks off all diplomatic relations with the United States and declares that under these circumstances brought about by President Roosevelt, Germany
too considers herself to be at war with the United States, as from today.” Churchill leaned on his cane and shut the short wave off. He was all smiles. And why not? The Americans and British were in the global war, together. Allies. What he had always wanted. “Sit down, everybody,” Churchill ordered. He faced Lampert, and poked him in the stomach. “The young lady is cleared is she?” “Yes, sir. Absolutely.” Lampert settled into an armchair. He glanced over at Langford. “I trust her implicitly.” Langford smiled her thanks at Lampert. A male servant brought in a polished aluminum tray with four crystal glasses and set them down on a corner table, next to a large bottle of champagne. Wesley Hollinger had done as promised. He had gotten Roberta Langford a visit to the Prime Minister’s residence and the underground part of it. She was overwhelmed. For Hollinger, it was the first time here since the day after Germany’s attack on Russia in June. “Well?” the American whispered out of the side of his mouth, as he and Langford took to the same couch together. She smiled, her voice low. “You said you would get me to meet him, and you did.” “I never break a promise.” “Really? Let me think about that one for a spell.” “Don’t you dare kick your shoes off in here.” She glared at him. “Or chew gum.”
“No problem. I swallowed it on the way in.” Churchill cleared his throat. “Young Wesley?” Hollinger stiffened. “Yes, sir.” “What do you think of Hitler now?” “He really is crazy, I have to admit.” “That’s the spirit. I’m glad that’s settled. We’re going to win this war. And whip this Master Race idea out of the Germans.” “Hitler had no reason to declare war on us,” Hollinger spoke up, “other than wanting to beat Roosevelt to it, I guess. He said it himself. He would always deal out the first blow. The big goof. Sounds like he did everyone a favor. Imagine, saying that Roosevelt provoked Germany to war to cover up our New Deal failures. Hitler will get a taste of how weak and built-on-thedollar we are.” “Does that mean I’m not the son-of-a-bitch some people think I am?” Churchill walked to the end of the room, then turned. “No, sir,” Hollinger blushed. He realized that Churchill’s methods were justified by good intentions. The more against Hitler, the better. “See. I told you not to call him that name,” Langford whispered. “He found out.” “Quiet!” “By the way, Wesley, I read Mein Kampf too,” Churchill continued. “We’re in an honored club. There’s very few of us in the Free World who’ve had that glimpse of the thug in high office. And never mind those five countries he promised as concessions. He’s a filthy liar.
By the time this war is over the whole world will see what kind of man this Hitler monster is.” “I’m sure they will, sir.” “Another thing. That Lisbon flight – 725. Awful! But we’re saving Enigma for when it will be put to the best of use. Invasion time. Maybe invasions are out of the question now. But they’re coming. Combined British and American efforts. Then we will read and act upon the German signals. We’ll send Hitler back to hell. Your President and I will turn Great Britain into a giant supply base, a launch sight, and a fortress. Then I won’t have to play God with my people anymore. I don’t like playing God. We will drag the Hun’s bloody nose into the ground and trample it. Unconditional surrender. After it’s over, we will stage trials for the lot of those Nazi gutter rats for the world to view.” “What about Schubert? What will happen to him?” Hollinger asked. “Leave that to us,” Churchill answered. “How’s Wild Bill taking this new war footing for the Americans?” Churchill asked. Hollinger looked up. “Ready to roll. He sends you his best, sir.” “And the President?” “The same. He’s looking forward to your next meeting.” Is he ever, thought Hollinger. The Prime Minister pulled a piece of paper from his suit jacket, and slipped on his pair of half-moon reading glasses. “Quite the report from Donovan. The Hawaiian Islands are under martial law. The writ of habeas corpus
is suspended. The Japanese consulate was seized. A roundup of Japanese aliens, all ordered to register. Your forces had eighteen ships seriously damaged or sunk, 174 aircraft destroyed, and over 3,000 casualties. Twenty-four hundred dead. Half of those aboard the battleship Arizona. Damn awful shame. But the Japs didn’t get the carriers.” “Thank God for that,” Hollinger piped up. “And, lucky for us, they missed the dry docks, the oil tanks, and the salvage equipment just across the Harbor.” “Donovan also tells me that you’re to help organize a department branch at the new COI London office.” “That’s right, sir. The SI. Secret Intelligence.” “Very good. This calls for a toast. To the new alliance. No disrespect to your losses.” Hollinger nodded. “No disrespect taken, sir.” Churchill turned to the table. “Would you mind pouring, colonel?” Lampert came to his feet, slowly. “My pleasure, sir.” All four stood, drinks in their hands, smiles on their faces. “A toast,” Churchill said, “to our new alliance. Britain and America.” “To Britain and America,” the other three replied as one and drank. “A second toast.” Churchill’s face saddened. “My mother would approve, God rest her soul. To the Americans who gave their lives. Dreadful. I feel the pain as a half-American. Remember Pearl Harbor.” “Hear, hear,” said Lampert.
“Remember Pearl Harbor,” they uttered. They drank again. Lampert cleared his throat. “I would like to make a third toast.” “What’s that, colonel,” Churchill asked, licking his lips. “To Wesley and Miss Langford. Their engagement.” “I didn’t know. Wedding Bells in the near future for you two?” Churchill asked. “The summer, sir,” Langford answered her Prime Minister, while she admired her engagement ring. For her, it would mean a wartime wedding. A sprinkle of confetti. Just Married sign on the MG. Quick honeymoon. Good sex. Back to work. “Congratulations.” Lampert and Churchill held their glasses up. “To Miss Langford and Wesley,” the Prime Minister said. “The other British-American alliance.” He walked to a side cabinet and dug out two cigars. “Join me, Colonel.” “I certainly will, sir.” Hollinger grinned. “What about me?” Lampert and Churchill stared at each other and burst into laughter. Langford shook her head, smirking. “The Tyrant of Hut Nine is going to smoke a cigar?” Hollinger chuckled. “For the sake of international harmony.” He thought of the old Wild West. “Kind of like . . . you know, Chief Sitting Bull . . . a peace pipe.”
Long Island, New York – December 12
Wolfgang Schroeder was the North American representative for I.S Filberg, working out of the German Embassy in Washington. He was distinctly German, blonde, rigid, perfect manners, black double-breasted suit, starched white shirt, red tie. His colors today reminded Vincent Chapman of the Nazi flag. Following a light two-minute discussion, Schroeder drank down the rest of his French wine in Chapman’s paneled study. The German was in a hurry to leave the country under a diplomatic truce, a passenger boat waiting for him. “All we want is your assurance – on behalf of your partners – that we will still be dealing in the midst of war.” Chapman smiled, and folded his hands over his expensive suit. “You have our word. We will never allow a war to get in the way of profit. For both of us. You also have our word that none of your factories will be bombed, not with an American board of directors at the helm. Furthermore, German assets in this country will be protected.” Schroeder smiled. “What if my country should lose, Herr Chapman, which I fear?” “Then we will simply help you in your recovery.” “I see. But will your government go along with all this?” Chapman scratched his chin. “Don’t you worry about our government. Someone has Roosevelt and the Treasury in our hip pocket.”
Washington – December 13
In the Oval Office, President Franklin Delano Roosevelt reread the one-page Executive Order 8389 in his hands.
CHAPTER X – GENERAL LICENSES GENERAL LICENSE UNDER SECTION 3 (a) OF THE TRADING WITH THE ENEMY ACT By virtue of and pursuant to the authority vested in me by sections 3 and 5 of the Trading with the Enemy Act, as amended, and by virtue of all other authority vested in me, I, FRANKLIN D. ROOSEVELT, PRESIDENT of the UNITED STATES OF AMERICA, do prescribe the following: A general license is hereby granted licensing any transaction or act prohibited by section 3 (a) of the Trading with the Enemy Act, as amended, provided, however, that such transaction or act is authorized by the Secretary of the Treasury by means of regulations, rulings, instructions, licenses or otherwise, pursuant to Executive Order No. 8389, as amended. FRANKLIN D ROOSEVELT THE WHITE HOUSE December 13, 1941
H. MORGENTHAU, JR Secretary of the Treasury FRANCIS BIDDLE Attorney General of the United States
Near Torquay, England – July 1942
It had been warm the entire day, no clouds, bright blue sky. The Channel stretched out before them. They strolled along the secluded beach, huddled arm in arm, two lovers, married less than twenty-four hours before. They felt as if they were the last two people alive. Wesley and Robbie were now Mr. and Mrs. Hollinger. They made their way to the blanket on the rise over the water, their bare feet making deep prints in the wet sand. The tide was coming in. They looked upon the long line of palm trees that skimmed the barbwire coast as far as they could. They hugged on the blanket, their bodies astride each other. He poured the wine for her, then filled his own crystal glass. The air began to cool. She threw on his shirt over her swimsuit. They squinted into the setting sun on the western horizon. “Palm trees in Britain. Amazing,” Hollinger said. “They were planted some years ago. Brought in from Portugal, I heard.” “Nice touch.” “Wesley?” “Yes, my sweet.”
“We’re going to win this, aren’t we?” They had tried to forget about the war for at least today. Early game of competitive tennis. Breakfast on the hotel terrace. A drive along the shore. Sightseeing. Late dinner. Then to the beach. But the anti-invasion barbwire had brought them back to reality. “We’re off to a good start, this year,” he said. “We sunk four Jap carriers off Midway. This fellow Eisenhower is our new European Commander. He’s pretty tough, I hear. Ike, they call him. Montgomery has the Hun on the run in the desert. Our bombers made their first daylight strike on Occupied Europe. Yeah, all in all, we’re getting there with this new joint venture. But, it will be a long haul yet. A few more years.” They didn’t speak for nearly a minute. The sun was dipping below the horizon. “I love you,” she said sincerely, lying on her back, her eyes never leaving him. “I love you too, Roberta Langford-Hollinger. More than you’ll ever realize.” “You know what?” she said. “What?” “You’re getting some gray hairs.” “Where?” “Above your ears.” Moving over her, he kissed her softly on the lips. “How’s that for an old guy?” “Careful, boy. Not here,” she said, not too convincingly. “I’m not your old flame. What’s her name? Annie Fannie?”
“Annie! Why did you have to bring her up? I haven’t seen her in, oh, at least six months.” “Of course not. I had the colonel transfer her out.” “You didn’t.” “I did.” “I always wondered what happened to her. Got rid of the competition, did you?” “You bet. Tell me, does she really have a Union Jack tattoo on her bottom.” “That’s sensitive information.” “You’re not kidding. Well, does she or doesn’t she?” “I’ll never tell. It’s . . . classified.” He held her closer. “You scoundrel. Can’t you wait till you get back to the hotel?” “No. Yes. It’s just that I’ve never done it on a beach before.” “Neither have I, now that you mention it.” “Come on. Nobody’s around.” She grinned; her eyes sparkled. “Come to think of it, the blanket might be wide enough to fit into.” “Well, then, what are we waiting for?” Giggling like school kids, they removed their swimsuits and rolled naked into the blanket. “Is this what you call . . . the American way?” she asked, smirking, kissing him on the neck. He laughed. “Yeah, something like that.” For the next twenty minutes, neither Annie Fannie nor the war mattered to the honeymooning Hollingers.
Nuremberg, Germany – November 1945
Twenty-one high-profile Nazi leaders faced an international tribunal formed by the Allied nations on charges of war crimes. The world was about to witness what would be the most sensational and the longest trial in global history. The first day, Schubert remained calm, drowsy, detached from it all. The other prisoners – except for Goering who sat beside him – were tense. The surviving Nazi leaders were astonished at Goering’s attitude towards the Deputy Fuehrer. Apparently, the widelyknown pre-1941 hatred between the two had vanished. Similarly to the other Nazi leaders on trial, the former Luftwaffe Commander-in-Chief was now only a shadow of his former self. Once obese, he was now ghostly pale and skinny, and his hands shook uncontrollably at times. For the first two days, Felix Schubert continued in the erratic behavior he had kept up since 1941. One evening, a tall, well-dressed Englishman entered his cell and told the German blankly that from then on, Schubert was to
shut up and play along, or face terrible consequences. And he was promised a life sentence if he cooperated. Guaranteed. On the third day, Schubert brought a novel with him and read it while the tribunal proceedings were played out. During a short pause, Goering turned to the prisoner, and whispered, “You are disgracing us.” Schubert laughed. “What chance do we stand? We’re all guilty.” “In that case, why don’t we tell the court our big secret?” Goering whispered back. “We’ve got nothing to lose. It might liven things up. Your amnesia act is terrible. I know you’re not the real Rudolf Hess.” Schubert’s whole body turned to Goering. “And how do you know that, dare I ask?” The former Luftwaffe leader laughed and slapped Schubert on the back. “Because . . . maybe . . . I’m not the real Hermann Goering.”
As was the case in The Fuehrermaster, many characters in this novel are fictional. They include Wesley Hollinger, Raymond Lampert, Roberta Langford, Max Preston, David Shean, Aris Palini, Smith, Lydia Harris, Denise, Kenneth Sims, Stephen Jordan, Hans Schmidt, Adam Eiser, Walter Buhle, Felix Schubert, Ernst Rodel, and Albert von Reiden. The organizations of Kerr, Chapman & Company, and I.S. Filberg are also fictionalized.
Following the attack, America flexed its muscles. They won their first major battle at Midway in June, 1942, compliments of the same carriers that the Japanese Task Force had failed to hit on December 7, 1941. After that, the Japanese fought a defensive war. America mobilized itself into a strong fighting force that combined with Britain and other Allies to crush Nazi Germany and Japan.
Today, the rumors still fly about the attack. Certain writers such as John Toland, in his 1982 book, Infamy, have stated that President Roosevelt and his top advisers knew beforehand where the Japanese were going to strike, but allowed it to happen so that America would be brought into the war with a fervor and a vengeance, backed by her people. Hawaii’s Commanders, General Walter Short of the Army, and Admiral Husband Kimmel of the Navy, were not told of the Japanese Purple Code being broken by American Intelligence until well after they had been dismissed and had taken the fall for a government that was negligent in alerting them to the Japanese danger. To their deaths they had received the blame and the scorn of the American public, while Washington came out unscathed.
Visibly ill during his next presidential campaign in 1944, he was elected to an unprecedented fourth term in office. He died the following year, a few days short of Germany’s surrender. He was the man behind the highly sensitive and secretive Manhattan Project – the building of the atomic bomb – that eventually defeated Japan in the summer of 1945.
The secrets were saved for when they would be really needed, as Winston Churchill had so vividly stated in this novel. The meticulous code-breaking process kept the Allies informed of enemy concentrations during the Battle of the Atlantic; General Irwin Rommel’s movements in Africa; Operation Torch, the invasion of North Africa; and Operation Overload, the invasion of Europe and what followed until Germany was defeated. Enigma was instrumental in winning the European war. The Germans never suspected a thing.
By mid-1942, the Office of the Coordinator of Information became the OSS – the Office of Strategic Services. Wild Bill Donovan, Roosevelt’s close friend, remained its director, with the new rank of General. The OSS grew by leaps and bounds. Donovan masterminded covert operations and guerilla warfare behind enemy territory. By war’s end, the OSS had offices in nearly every European country. Two years later, in 1947, the organization changed its name again, this time to the Central Intelligence Agency. The CIA. By then, Donovan had bowed out of official clandestine work and returned to his New York law practice. He died in 1959.
DUKE OF HAMILTON
Kept a low profile after the Rudolf Hess flight, pleading innocence and shying away from interviews until his death in 1972.
Many leading German generals and industrialists questioned his leadership, and tried to assassinate him in a bomb blast in July 1944. He survived. His revenge was brutal, resulting in a purge of hundreds of officers and civilians. Recent Russian KGB files indicate that the Fuehrer and his long time mistress Eva Braun committed suicide in Hitler’s Chancellory bunker days before the war ended, and their bodies were taken back to Moscow.
Carried out Hitler’s orders to exterminate the Jews by organizing the Final Solution death camps that will forever remain a dark stain in the annals of human history. During the war, he sent out several peace feelers to the Americans through Switzerland. One of the plans was to kidnap Hitler and hand him to the Allies. In 1944, he
had infiltrated the German conspirator movement prior to the Hitler bombing and waited to see if the group of discontented generals and industrialists were successful. When Hitler lived through the blast, Himmler moved swiftly to carry out his Fuehrer’s revenge and to cover his own tracks. Unable to kidnap Hitler and sue the Allies for peace, Himmler committed suicide when American troops captured him in May 1945.
Whether he was the real Hess is still debatable. Rumors have persisted for years that the British had an impostor on their hands. At the Nuremberg Trials, the prisoner was sentenced on October 1, 1946. He was found not guilty of War Crimes and Crimes against Humanity, but guilty of Conspiracy and Crimes against Peace. He was given life imprisonment at Spandau Prison, Berlin. He died there in 1987, in his nineties, an apparent suicide by hanging. Some historians believe he was murdered. The truth of the Rudolf Hess flight to Scotland will become official when the 100-year secrets stamp on it is lifted in the year 2041.
Despite his strong leadership through the war, the British voted him out of office in 1945, because they thought he was great in war but would be lousy in peace time. Six years later, the voters had a change of heart and voted him back into office at age 76. To his dying day in 1965, he always carefully avoided discussing the Rudolf Hess incident. “I never attached any serious importance to the escapade,” he once wrote. Certain gossip about Churchill has persisted to this day. Did the Prime Minister do everything he could to draw the Americans into World War II? If so, one must remember that his prime objective was to beat Hitler. Whether Hitler planned to rule the globe with his New World Order or merely control Europe side-by-side with the British was not the issue to Churchill. After Germany was overrun in 1945 by the Allies, and the Nazi death camps were revealed to a shocked world community, could anyone really blame Churchill for some of the bulldog-tough, no-holds-barred decisions he had to make earlier in the war?
The Nazi-Wall Street connection in this novel is too close to the truth. The German business cartel of I.G. Farben – I.S. Filberg in the story – sought funds for Hitler in the 1920s and 1930s and as a result received generous cash loans from Wall Street firms such as
Jewish-run Kuhn, Loeb & Company; two Rockefellerowned banks, National City Bank, and Dillion, Read & Company; and others, including a J.P. Morgan bank. I.G. Farben also hired Ivy Lee, the New York public relations firm, to improve Hitler’s image to the American eye. This was the same Ivy Lee that the Rockefellers relied upon on occasion for their own PR work. Years earlier, the Ivy Lee firm had sold the new communist regime to the Americans following the October Revolution. Also, Kuhn, Loeb & Company’s head, Jacob Schiff, personally financed the Communists in 1917 to the tune of $20 million dollars, this confirmed in 1949 by Schiff’s grandson, John, to the New York Journal American. It’s interesting to note that no I.G. Farben factories were bombed during the war, this upon orders from the U.S. War Department. Why? Because two high officials, namely Secretary of War Robert Patterson, and Secretary of Defense James Forrestal had both been employed by Dillion, Read, & Company before the war, not to mention the fact that powerful Americans were on the Board of Directors. Money talks, even in war. When there’s blood in the streets, there’s profit in the boardrooms.
he coaches a local fastball team. 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. 355 . Canada in 1984. He now resides with his wife and two children in Burlington. A big baseball fan. Erin. The Mary Jane Mission came out two years later. In 1990.About the author Historical fiction author Daniel Wyatt is Canadian. thirty miles outside Toronto. Wyatt made the switch to historical fiction with The Last Flight of the Arrow. Ontario. born and raised on the prairies of Saskatchewan. In the summer months. a techno-thriller set during the Cold War years of the late 1950’s. Wyatt enjoys collecting Detroit Tigers memorabilia. This was followed up in 1986 by Maximum Effort with the same publisher. Ontario. Wyatt’s other published works include aviation magazine articles in Canada and the United States.
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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