Flight of Eagles, page 20
‘Oh, my God.’
‘So, I don’t have much choice, do I?’
She sat there staring at him and the bell rang in the outer office. She got up without a word, went out and returned with Joel Rodrigues.
‘Type up the letter,’ he said. ‘And as quickly as possible.’
She went out. Joel wore a raincoat and fingered his hat anxiously. ‘I have rather startling news, Colonel.’
‘I know,’ Bubi said. ‘You’ve been summoned to Lisbon at once and I’ve been asked to facilitate your transport by air to that fair city as soon as possible. You were probably informed of the move by Nunes da Sílva of your foreign office.’
‘How did you know that, Colonel?’
‘I know everything. Did he tell you what he wants you for?’
‘No.’
‘Well, I will. You’re joining the Courier Service, carrying diplomatic bags by air to London. You won’t be in Lisbon more than a few hours.’
Joel looked immediately alarmed. ‘But, Colonel, this wasn’t in our agreement.’
‘It is now. Ofcourse, you could discuss it with the Reichsführer or da Silva when you get to Lisbon, but I wouldn’t advise it. You’re a small man, Rodrigues, caught up in big things. Come to think of it, so am I. We don’t have choices, they’re made for us.’ Trudi came in with the letter of instruction. Bubi read it, then folded it and put it in an envelope unsigned. He handed the envelope to Joel Rodrigues. ‘For your brother. Be at the airport in two hours.’
‘Yes, Colonel.’
Joel went out and Bubi lit a cigarette. ‘Find out where Max is then order a plane for me to leave in, say, three hours. A Storch will do. I’ll fly myself.’
‘Any passengers?’
‘Why, the Baroness, of course.’ He stood up and as she reached the door, said, ‘And Trudi?’
She turned. ‘Yes?’
‘Any chance you get to do a disappearing act, take advantage of it. Just in case things go wrong. You understand?’
‘Perfectly, but I’d rather wait and see.’ She was strangely calm as she went out.
Handling Elsa von Halder was extraordinarily easy. He stuck as far as possible with the truth, it was as simple as that. When he knocked on the door of the suite at the Adlon, he was admitted by Rosa Stein. Elsa was seated by the fire, reading a magazine, which she put down. She held out her hand and Bubi kissed it.
‘What a surprise, Colonel.’
‘I bring you rather momentous news, Baroness. I might as well get it over with. Your son, Colonel Kelso, was shot down on a mission to Brittany last night. He is now in our hands.’
She said calmly, ‘Is he well?’
‘A broken ankle. He’s at a place called Château Morlaix. I’m under orders to fly down there to interrogate him.’
‘Does Max know of this?’
‘No, but he’ll be informed. I’m acting on behalf of the SD, which means the Reichsführer, but he has given me permission to take you with me if you should desire.’
‘May I bring my maid?’
‘Naturally.’
She stood up. ‘Then how long have I got, Colonel?’
‘I’ll have a car pick you up in an hour.’ He put on his cap and saluted. ‘Please excuse me. I’ve things to do.’
As Rosa hurriedly packed, Elsa told her of her conversation with Bubi Hartmann.
‘It would be strange, Baroness,’ Rosa said, ‘to perhaps see both of your sons together.’
‘A long time since that happened, a long time.’ Elsa put her jewellery in its usual box and passed it to Rosa. ‘Put that in my large handbag. Oh, and this.’
She produced a Walther PPK pistol from a drawer, took out the magazine, checked the weapon expertly and reloaded.
Rosa put it in the handbag. ‘You think you might need this, Baroness?’
‘Who knows?’ Elsa von Halder smiled serenely. ‘It’s as well to be prepared.’
13
At Fermanville, Max was enjoying a drink in the mess in the early evening when Bubi Hartmann walked in. Max excused himself from a group of officers and went to greet him.
‘Bubi, what brings you here?’ and then he frowned. ‘Is there a problem? My mother?’
‘In the corner,’ Bubi said. ‘We need privacy.’
The other officers stared for a moment, then turned from Bubi’s frown.
Max said, ‘What is this?’
Bubi waved the mess waiter away. ‘Do you know a place called Château Morlaix about forty miles from here?’
‘Of course. There’s a Luftwaffe feeder station there. We often use the emergency strip.’
‘I landed there early this afternoon. Flew down from Berlin in a Storch with your mother and her maid.’
Max looked anxious. ‘Is she under arrest?’
‘Not in the way you mean. Read this, Max.’ He took an envelope from his pocket, extracted a letter and passed it over. It was quality paper and the heading was embossed in black.
Berlin, April 1944
DER REICHSFÜHRER – SS
The bearer acts under my personal orders on business of the utmost importance to the Reich. All personnel, civil and military must assist him in any way he sees fit.
Heinrich Himmler.
It was countersigned by the Führer.
Max handed it back. ‘Your credentials would appear to be impeccable. In the circumstances, I really would appreciate a drink.’ He waved to the waiter. ‘Cognac – large ones.’ He turned back to Bubi. ‘Dolfo Galland’s at Abbeville tomorrow. He wanted me to fly up there.’
‘I know and he’s been informed that as of now you are detached from Fighter Command.’
‘As bad as that?’ The waiter appeared with the cognac. Max took his down in one long swallow. ‘So, Bubi, what do we have here? I heard an SS Panzer unit had taken over Château Morlaix?’
‘Yes, and they are now under my direct orders. A ring of steel around the place.’
‘Because my mother is there? Come on, Bubi.’
‘No, because your brother is there.’ Bubi swallowed his cognac. ‘If you could collect your kit, we’ll be off.’
‘Harry at Château Morlaix?’ Max was very pale. ‘Tell me.’
‘On the way, Max. Please hurry and remember, this is top secret.’
Max didn’t bother calling his orderly, but packed himself. As he was finishing, the door opened and Major Berger, the station adjutant, came in. ‘Hartmann flourished an order from Himmler himself that chilled my bones. You’ve been posted to the SS command at Morlaix.’
‘So it would appear.’
‘But what goes on there? I’ve been ordered to detach an ME 109 to the Morlaix feeder station. Again, it will be under Hartmann’s command.’
Max zipped up a bag. ‘Who are you sending?’
‘I thought young Freiburg.’
‘Not a bad choice. He’s got potential.’ Max picked up a bag in each hand. ‘I must get off.’
‘Max,’ Berger said. ‘We’ve been friends for a long time. Are you in trouble?’
‘No more than we’ve all been since the Führer took over in ’33.’ Max smiled. ‘Watch your back,’ and he went out.
The car was a Citroën, long and black, and Bubi drove it himself. Max sat beside him, smoking a cigarette.
‘So what happened to Harry?’ he asked.
‘He was dropping an agent off in a Lysander from Cold Harbour in Cornwall. I expect you recall the name.’
‘Why should I?’
‘Max, your brother was shot down in a Hurricane some weeks ago, while covering a Lysander on its way back to Cold Harbour with a very important French officer. He took out two ME 109s and went into the drink. It was Himmler who pointed out to me that the pilot of the third ME on the scene was you. What happened, Max?’
‘All right, Bubi.’ Max laughed. ‘I’ll tell you then you tell me.’
‘Agreed.’
When Max was finished, Bubi said, ‘Remarkable and I’m not condemning you. I hope I’d have done the same.’
‘So what about Harry?’
‘It would seem he was dropping one of those Resistance leaders off, an in-and-out job, bicycle lamps on the heath. He went too high into the radar level after being fired at by Allied naval forces. Can you believe that?’
‘Oh, I can believe anything.’
‘Anyway, boys from your base strafed the landing area and brought him down. He got out as the Lysander fireballed. Strangely enough he was saved by a Panzer patrol which just happened to be in the area. They got his burning flying jacket off him before it did more than singe him, but his left ankle was badly broken.’
‘But otherwise, he’s all right?’
‘Yes.’
‘Does he know I’m coming? Does my mother know?’
‘Not at the moment.’
‘I understand you’ve asked for an ME 109. They’ve allocated young Freiburg. Why?’
‘A precaution only, in case we get unauthorized aircraft in the area and that’s common enough these days.’
Max lit two cigarettes and passed one to Bubi. ‘Look, what is this? The Reichsführer isn’t into happy families. What does he want?’
‘Later, Max, later. That’s all I can say for now,’ and Bubi concentrated on the driving.
At Morlaix, Elsa and Rosa had been installed in an apartment suite, Major Müller all courtesy. As with everyone else, the sight of Bubi’s letter from Himmler had had a salutary effect.
‘Colonel Hartmann has gone to Fermanville to pick up Baron von Halder, Baroness,’ he told her. ‘He has left instructions that, when you are ready, you may see your son.’
‘Ah, you know about that,’ she said.
‘Of course. As an officer of the SS I swore a holy oath of obedience. In this matter I am under orders from the Reichsführer himself.’
‘Say no more,’ Elsa told him sweetly. ‘In the circumstances, I would appreciate seeing my son as soon as possible.’
‘Of course, Baroness.’
Harry was propped up in bed, his left leg in a plaster cast across a pillow, flicking through a copy of Signal, which showed in graphic detail how Germany was still winning the war. The door clicked open and Müller stepped in.
‘Colonel Kelso, I have your mother here.’
Elsa stepped into the room and Müller withdrew, closing the door. Harry looked at her and smiled. ‘My God, Mutti, you haven’t aged at all. It’s incredible.’ He dropped the magazine and held out his arms and she ran to him.
Later, she sat beside the bed. ‘So you’ve no idea what’s going on here?’ he said.
She shook her head. ‘I’ve told you all I know. Bubi Hartmann, Himmler. Max, of course, told me of your warning when you went down in the sea and he saved you. Where did you get your information?’
‘I do special flights for British Intelligence. The people I deal with have contacts in Berlin.’
‘I see. So, you haven’t married?’
‘Mutti, I’m still only twenty-six years old.’
‘Your father was twenty-two when he married me.’
‘Well, I have been rather busy.’
She lit a cigarette. ‘So, I don’t know what’s going on here and neither do you?’
‘So it would appear.’
She nodded. ‘Is there a girl in your life, a proper girl?’
‘Perhaps. Her mother was English, killed in the Blitz. Her father’s an American general.’
‘She sounds promising.’
‘She’s a few months older than me and a brilliant surgeon.’
‘Couldn’t be better. I’m impressed.’
‘Don’t be, Mutti, she deserves better.’
Before she could reply, the door opened and Bubi appeared. ‘Another guest for you, Colonel.’ He stepped back and Max moved into the room.
Dinner was served in the château’s magnificent dining room. Harry was carried down in a chair by two SS orderlies. Müller, Schroeder and two young lieutenants joined the party. The food was excellent: turtle soup, mutton roasted to perfection, an excellent salad, good champagne and a fine claret, a pre-war Château Palmer.
Elsa said, ‘I must say the SS do know how to do things well, Major Müller.’
‘Anything else for you would be totally unacceptable, Baroness,’ he replied gallantly and raised his glass. ‘To brave men everywhere and to Colonel Kelso and the Baron von Halder, brothers in arms.’
Everyone stood, except Elsa and Harry, and drank the toast. Bubi said, ‘And now, Major, if you could excuse us.’
‘Of course, Colonel.’
As Müller and his officers made for the door, Schroeder turned and said, ‘I’ve been in touch with the local doctor, Colonel Kelso. He’ll have crutches for you here tomorrow.’
‘That’s kind of you,’ Harry said.
The door closed, Bubi got up and reached for the claret and went round the table topping up the glasses.
Max said, ‘All right, Bubi, what’s the game?’
Bubi stood by the fire. ‘Everyone thinks the important question about the invasion is where the Allies are going to land. The Führer doesn’t agree. He thinks we should put our efforts into something really worthwhile.’ He paused. ‘Such as assassinating General Eisenhower.’
There was total astonishment on every face.
‘But that’s crazy,’ Max said.
‘It is, but unfortunately Himmler agrees with him. I have agents in London, separate from the Abwehr and still at large. Through them, Colonel Kelso, I know all about Brigadier Dougal Munro, Major Carter, Cold Harbour and SOE in Baker Street. I know you have a lady friend, a Doctor Sobel, whose father is a general on Eisenhower’s staff. I know you often fly him as a courier pilot. I told the Reichsführer that we couldn’t oblige the Führer, that I had no one in London capable of such a task and that at this stage in the war, I didn’t think one of our own people, however capable, would ever get near Eisenhower, even if we managed to get someone into England.’
‘So?’ Kelso asked.
‘Things have changed, however, with you falling into our hands, and this has led to the Reichsführer coming up with, in his opinion, a brilliant solution to our dilemma, and in mine, a bizarre one.’
He paused and Max said, ‘Go on, Bubi.’
‘It goes something like this. Colonel Kelso escapes, steals the Storch on the landing strip and flies back to Cold Harbour to a hero’s welcome. Eisenhower will wish to see him. If not, he is certain to fly the General on some occasion, as he has before. At a suitable moment, he assassinates him.’
There was a profound silence then Harry laughed out loud. ‘And how do I accomplish all this? I’m not getting crutches until the morning.’
‘You don’t understand,’ Bubi told him. ‘It wouldn’t be you, it would be Max.’
Elsa said, ‘Oh, my God.’
Max drank a little claret and put down the glass. ‘And why would I do such a thing? I fly fighter planes, Bubi, that’s what I do. Whatever else I am, I’m no assassin.’
Bubi came to the table and poured more wine, considerably agitated. ‘I’m just an errand boy. I’ve got Himmler’s hand on my throat too. This is none of my doing.’
‘All right,’ Max said. ‘Just tell us the worst.’
‘The Baroness, regrettably, has enjoyed entirely the wrong circle of friends. Eighteen arrested, twelve executed, several of them generals, two women. It’s called guilt by association. Let’s put it this way. If you don’t co-operate, you two, it will be very much the worse for her.’
Elsa tossed wine into his face. ‘You bastard.’
Max jumped up and caught her arms. ‘Don’t be stupid, he’s got just as much choice in this as we have.’
‘To hell with that kind of talk,’ Harry said. ‘If you did this you’d need my co-operation, Max. My life in detail, my girl Molly, Munro, my friends at Cold Harbour, Eisenhower, Southwick House.’ He shook his head. ‘I won’t do it.’
Bubi wiped his face and Max turned to him. ‘Give us some time.’
‘Tomorrow morning,’ Bubi said. ‘That’s the best I can do. Sleep on it,’ and he turned and went out.
Back in his room, he telephoned Himmler at Prinz Albrechtstrasse and found him still in his office. ‘I thought I should bring you up to date, Reichsführer.’ When he was finished, he said, ‘What shall I do?’
‘I’ve told you what to do, Colonel. Let them think it over. Not much sleep there, I think. Breakfast, everything nice and orderly. Then at, let’s say ten o’clock, let the axe fall. I doubt if you’ll have any further trouble.’
‘Very well, Reichsführer.’
‘I must go, Colonel, I’m needed in Paris. I intend a night flight. If you need me, I’ll be at Gestapo Headquarters there.’
‘As you say, Reichsführer.’
Bubi replaced the phone, imagining Himmler’s personal JU 52 lifting into the night. If only an RAF Mosquito could appear on schedule and blow him out of the sky, but that, of course, would be expecting too much.
Elsa had retired, and the SS orderlies carried Harry back to his room and helped him on to the bed. After a while, the door opened and Max came in.
‘Not one, but two sentries on the door. They are taking good care of you,’ he spoke in English.
‘I like the uniform,’ Harry told him. ‘Very handsome.’
Max crossed to the chair where Harry’s tunic hung. He examined the medal ribbons. ‘You’re not doing too bad yourself.’ He pulled a chair forward and took out his cigarette case. ‘So, here we are, brother, together again.’ He gave Harry a cigarette and a light. ‘The only thing missing is Tarquin. How is the old boy?’
‘Don’t ask,’ Harry said. ‘Every mission I flew, he was there in his jump bag in the bottom of the cockpit. Right through the Battle. I jumped for it over the Isle of Wight and Tarquin went with me. Twice into the drink.’
‘And what happened this time?’
‘They shot me up real good, I clipped trees coming down.’ Harry shrugged. ‘The Lysander came apart, then flamed. I was dazed. I remember grabbing at the jump bag as I dived out, but my flying jacket was on fire. To give them their due, those SS guys came right in for me. As they dragged me away the Lysander blew up.’
