The Iron Storm

by CW Browning

  “Yes, but no one has since,” Chris retorted, waving his hand impatiently.

  “Not for lack of trying.” Miles looked up as Slippy joined them. “Isn’t that so, Slippy?”

  “The last one to try was Napoleon,” Slippy said with a nod. “He nearly sank his entire fleet before they finally turned back.”

  “See? It can’t be done,” Chris said triumphantly. “Even Napoleon couldn’t do it.”

  “I’m fairly sure that Hitler has command of better ships than he did,” Miles said dryly.

  Chris looked around at the somber faces. “You’re all serious, aren’t you? You really think the Krauts will try to invade England if they take France.”

  “Wouldn’t you?” Slippy demanded. “He took Poland. He took Norway. If he can take France, he’d be a fool to stop there.”

  “And if he does try, I give you one guess how he’ll do it,” Rob said.

  “He’ll send over his Luftwaffe first.” Chris dropped into his chair. “Well hell. I guess we’ll finally get to shoot at some planes.”

  Miles choked back a laugh. “Are all Americans like you, Chris?”

  “Like me how?”

  “Itching for a fight.”

  “Well, aren’t you? Don’t tell me you’re not looking forward to meeting the 109s because I know it’s a lie. You want to face them as much as I do.”

  “That may be so, Yank, but we’re not quite so blunt about it,” Rob said, pulling out his cigarette case. “It’s our duty, you know. Nothing more.”

  “Nothing more, my ass.” Chris scoffed. “I fly with you every day, Ainsworth, so you can leave off the airs and graces and laissez-faire. I know you want a scrap just as much as I do. I guess now we’ll get the chance.”

  “Laissez-faire?” Miles raised his eyebrows and looked at Rob. “Is that we’re doing?”

  “I haven’t the faintest what the Yank’s going on about,” he answered with a grin. “I’m smoking a cigarette. Nothing lazy about it.”

  “Idiot!” Chris said, laughing.

  “You know, all this talk about an invasion across the channel is all dependent on the Germans getting through to France,” Slippy said, going back to the original subject. “They’re facing the entire BEF in Belgium, not to mention the French army. The Germans don’t have as many soldiers or artillery as we do. It won’t be easy.”

  “Says who?” Miles asked, tilting his head back and peering up at him.

  “Well...them. The people who say.”

  “The same people who said Hitler would never attack Norway,” Rob said, rolling his head sideways to send Miles a knowing look.

  “Yes. The same people, I daresay, that said Hitler couldn’t fight a war on two fronts,” Miles agreed with a nod. “Yet here we are. I’m afraid I don’t think much to their general wisdom.”

  “To be completely fair, I don’t think you can really call Norway a front anymore,” Chris interjected. “The Germans just about have the whole country now. It’s only the northern pocket that’s holding out.”

  “Nonetheless, they have troops tied up there.” Miles shook his head and looked at his watch. Getting to his feet, he stretched. “I’m going back to my room for my lighter before we have to go out to the dispersal hut. Before I do, I’ll just say this. I don’t think the little Corporal would have attacked the West if he didn’t have something up his little sleeve. Hitler is a lot of things, but I don’t think stupid is one of them. If he’s going after France, he knows something we don’t.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like how to get past our BEF and the French army.” Miles turned to leave. “And we have a Prime Minister who wants to make deals with him and broker peace. God help them, and God help us.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Brussles - 10am

  Eisenjager walked up the narrow street where Jens Bernard rented an apartment. The street was in chaos with people outside on the sidewalk and emergency vehicles coming and going. All the attention was focused on what remained of the building at the top of the street. It didn’t take a genius to guess what had happened. Bombs had been falling all morning as the Luftwaffe swept ahead of the Wehrmacht. Most of them had landed outside the city, but those that had landed inside were doing their part to spread panic and fear throughout the city, and chaos. With the radios out of commission, the population was in the dark as to what was happening, and so they naturally were believing the worst. Those that couldn’t flee the city were falling into one of two categories as far as he could see: those who were hunkering down prosaically, and those who were preparing for the end of the world.

  He glanced at the numbers on the buildings and stopped across the road from number 56. There it was. The building where his target lived. He had managed to get the address from the post office, but he had no idea what his target looked like. A small crowd was gathered before the front door, all watching the excitement at the top of the road, and for all he knew Jens Bernard could be one of them. Eisenjager crossed the street and nodded to them politely, examining the faces swiftly as he did so. He didn’t know if Jens was young or old, but all the faces before him were over the age of fifty. Somehow he doubted that the Abwehr was interested in aging men dressed in work clothes. He was going to take the chance that his target was not among the men gathered before him.

  “What’s happening up there?” he asked in Dutch, nodding towards the activity.

  “A bomb fell on the house. They’re looking for survivors,” a man answered readily. “So far two people are unaccounted for.”

  “How terrible!”

  “Yes. I don’t know what the world’s coming to, dropping bombs on other people like it’s nothing. They didn’t stand a chance, did they? But what do the Germans care?”

  Eisenjager reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a piece of paper, making a show of studying it. “I wonder if you could help me. I’m looking for someone and I think he lives here.”

  “Oh?” The man looked at him assessingly before moving away from the others. “What’s his name? I’m the landlord here.”

  “His name is Jens Bernard. I work with him and he didn’t come in to work this morning.”

  “Do you blame him?” The man demanded. “No one is going into work this morning. Everyone is panicking and leaving, if they can.”

  “Yes, I know. He’s not in trouble, but our boss wants to make sure he’s all right. Is he here?”

  “No. He left early this morning. I saw him go out just as I was getting the milk in.” The man scratched his neck thoughtfully. “He came back again after that. I heard him come in and go up the stairs. I looked out the front window and saw his car stopped at the curb. He left again shortly after that. Likely getting out of the city, if you ask me. Everyone who can is getting out of the city before the Germans come.”

  “Did he have luggage with him?” Eisenjager asked, raising his eyebrows. “Is that why you think he’s leaving?”

  “Not luggage in the true sense of the word. He had a small overnight bag and a square hard case with him. Not nearly enough to be all his clothes. He’s well-dressed, that one. He certainly didn’t take even half of what he’s got.” The man tilted his head and looked at him quizzically. “You say you work with him?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then you’d know better than me what the square case is,” he said. “It’s the same one he takes to work with him every day.”

  Eisenjager smiled. “Perhaps he went into work after I left. How long ago did he leave?”

  “Oh, about three hours ago now, maybe more.”

  “Well, I just left half an hour ago, so he must be leaving the city. I wonder where he could be going? Does he have any family outside of Brussels?”

  The man shrugged. “I couldn’t tell you. I don’t know anything about him. He’s a good tenant. Pays his rent on time every week and is quiet and respectable. I don’t ask any more than that of my tenants, and I certainly don’t pry. All I know is he’s a good young man who keeps
himself to himself.”

  Eisenjager sighed and took his hat off to scratch his head. “Well, the old man won’t like this at all. The least he could have done was tell him where he was going. Oh well. At least we know he’s still alive.” He settled his hat back on his head. “I didn’t know Jens had a car.”

  “He doesn’t keep it in the city. Too expensive. He keeps it in a garage in the country somewhere. I’ve only ever seen it twice. It’s a good little car. A blue Citroen, I think. An older one, of course.”

  “Of course. Lucky Jens.” Eisenjager nodded and held out his hand. “Thank you for your time. I’ll go tell our boss that he’s fine, but in the wind.”

  “I think a lot of your coworkers will be gone after today. No one with any sense would stay if they have an alternative.”

  “I suppose you’re right.” Eisenjager turned to leave, then hesitated and turned back. “If he happens to come back, don’t mention that I was here. The old man can be funny about some things. He might not want him to know that he was worried.”

  The landlord nodded disinterestedly and turned his attention back to the unfolding drama up the street. Eisenjager strode away, the congenial smile fading from his face as he walked. Of all the days and all the cities, Hitler had to launch the attack on the West today. His easy catch and transport target had become a nearly impossible task the moment German forces crossed the border. As the landlord had said, anyone who had the means was fleeing the city, and that apparently included Jens Bernard. The likelihood of him tracking down a Citroen in the middle of a mass exodus out of the city was almost nonexistent. He would do better to contact Hamburg and tell them the target had disappeared, and then go home.

  His lips tightened, along with his shoulders. No. That wasn’t an option. Not after Norway. Not after he lost the Englishwoman in Namsos. He had to do everything he could to find this target and take him back to Germany. He couldn’t fail again.

  London - 11am

  Bill strode into his office and threw a folded newspaper onto the desk before turning to hang his overcoat on the coat rack in the corner. He’d grabbed the morning edition on his way back from an emergency meeting in Whitehall and read it in the cab. It declared to London what he had known since his telephone rang at four-thirty in the morning. The Germans had invaded Holland, Belgium and Luxembourg at dawn. It had begun.

  He was just turning back to his desk when his office door was thrown open without warning and Jasper came in, his face settled in the creased scowl that Bill was learning to know well.

  “Oh, it’s you, is it?” Bill said, snorting irreverently. “Is there still no sign of an impending invasion?”

  “Sarcasm does not become you, Bill,” Jasper retorted without heat, closing the door behind him. “Go on then. Get it out of your system so that we can get down to business.”

  “You’ll admit I was right?”

  “And more.” Jasper went over to sit down in one of the chairs before the desk. “It appears that you have a knack for sifting the good intelligence from the bad.”

  “I should. It’s what you rely on me to do.” Bill opened the cigarette box on his desk and offered one to Jasper. “But where did it get us? Nowhere.”

  “Don’t be too discouraged, Bill,” Jasper said, taking a cigarette. “You’ll be listened to in the future. Mark my words.”

  “That won’t do us any good now.” Bill sat in his chair and sighed. “Luxembourg isn’t even putting up a fight, and the Netherlands were taken completely by surprise. The only ones who seem to have had some inkling of what was about to happen were the Belgians, and all they had time to do was alert their army along the border. Did you know there’s a battle raging for control of Fort Eben-Emael? It’s the most heavily fortified fort on the Maginot Line. If that falls, Holland falls.”

  “So I heard. The Germans parachuted in. Landed on the damn roof.”

  “Exactly.” Bill paused and thought for a minute. “Has that ever been done?”

  “Not that I’m aware of.”

  “Fantastic. So in addition to their so-called Blitzkrieg, we also have to worry about paratroopers.” He shook his head and reached for a cigarette himself. “The Luftwaffe is going ahead of them and bombing the bridges and communication towers. They’ve even started bombing in France. Nancy is getting hit, as well as Metz. I’m even hearing rumors that they’re moving towards the Ardennes. The entire thing is a complete shamble.”

  “Not a complete shamble. The BEF and French army are meeting them head-on in Belgium. Once we stop Hitler’s main thrust, he’ll have nowhere to go but back.”

  Bill snorted inelegantly. “Do you really believe that?”

  Jasper sighed and shook his head. “No.”

  “I thought not.” Bill puffed out his cheeks and exhaled loudly before lighting his cigarette. “And now here we are.”

  “Were you able to get word to your man on the continent who was compromised when that letter went missing?” Jasper asked after a moment.

  “No. He makes contact through a man in Lille, but we’ve been unable to reach him.”

  “Where is he? Is he in France?”

  Bill blew smoke up towards the ceiling and then looked across the desk at Jasper, his face suddenly drawn and tired.

  “No. He’s in Brussels.”

  “Good God.”

  “Precisely. As of five o’clock this morning, we’ve lost radio contact with all our agents in Belgium and Holland, courtesy of the Luftwaffe.”

  “Does he know anything about the rest of the network?”

  “Only the name of his contact in Lille, which is an alias.”

  “Well that’s something at least,” Jasper grunted, leaning forward to put out his cigarette in the ashtray on the desk. “When the Gestapo find him, they won’t get much out of him.”

  “If they find him. I’m not giving up hope yet. He’s an enterprising young man, and far from stupid. If there’s a way out of Belgium, he’ll take it now that the invasion has begun.”

  “And you’re happy with him leaving his post?” Jasper asked, surprised. “I would think you’d want him to remain and continue.”

  “There’ll be nothing to continue once the Germans take over. I’d rather he made his way to France. He has skills that go beyond his position in Brussels. He’s the one I was most excited about, more’s the pity.”

  “Even more so that when you talked your Jian into working for you?” Jasper asked, a faint smile on his lips.

  “Perhaps about the same,” Bill said with a quick grin. He sobered again quickly. “She’s caught in the middle of all this again, you know. She’s in Brussels now. Every time the Jerries invade somewhere, she’s stuck in the middle. It’s like she’s a magnet for them.”

  “Given her role, it’s hardly surprising. She’s bound to be in the hot spots. That’s where all the good intelligence is,” Jasper pointed out. “You can’t keep her out of the muck forever, Bill. She’s got to get dirty, along with the rest.”

  Bill grunted and was silent for a moment, sucking on his cigarette. Finally, he sighed and sat forward, putting it out in the ashtray.

  “At least she’s better prepared this time around,” he said. “Unlike Norway, when she had nothing to help her out of it.”

  “Better prepared? How’s that?”

  “I took the opportunity of giving her a crash course on coding while she was laid up in bed after her last invasion. She now has a current codebook and has been refreshed on using a wireless radio to transmit to us from enemy territory.”

  “Well that’s better than nothing. Have you heard from her since this morning?”

  “No. But if I know her, she’s busy getting out of Belgium ahead of the German army. She’s no fool. She knows what will happen if the SS get there before she gets out.”

  “Then let’s hope she does it again,” Jasper said, standing. “She’s our only link to the Soviet agent, never mind whatever she’s bringing back with her. If the Germans get to her, there goes
our hold on Shustov.”

  “Lyakhov is important, of course, but I’m more concerned with getting her back in one piece. We’ll need her in France if things keep going the way they are, and you and I both know that she will invaluable there.” Bill stood and walked around the desk. “Aside from the fact that I don’t want to be the one to have to tell Madeleine Ainsworth that her daughter was killed in Belgium.”

  “Or worse, that her daughter has been taken captive by the Gestapo,” Jasper agreed.

  “If the Gestapo try to take her alive, they’ll be faced with something they’re not prepared for,” Bill said humorously. “I think they’ll be very surprised indeed, if it comes down to that.”

  “Oh?” Jasper grinned at him. “Does she have a secret weapon you’re not telling me about?”

  Bill laughed. “Hardly. She has a gun, that is all. But I don’t imagine the Germans will be expecting a pretty little thing like her to pull out a Browning P-35 pistol.”

  Jasper chuckled and opened the door. “No, I’d imagine that will give them something of a start. Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that, eh?”

  He went out the door and Bill watched it close, then the ready grin was wiped off his face. That had been close. At Evelyn’s insistence, Jasper had no idea of her martial arts skills. No one did, not even her fighting instructors in Scotland. They had marveled at how quickly she had excelled in hand-to-hand fighting, never once suspecting that she might have prior, and extensive, experience. They had made it this long without anyone being any the wiser, and he’d almost let the cat of the bag with a thoughtless comment. He must do better.

  Turning to go back to his desk, Bill felt a twinge of uneasiness. For all his confidence to Jasper, he was worried. For the second time in two months, Evelyn was facing an advancing German army. Only this time, she was completely on her own.

  Brussels - 12pm

  Hans Voss looked up at the front of the Hotel Le Plaza. This was one of the two most exclusive hotels in the city. When he’d come by at the beginning of his search, he hadn’t been able to get near the front desk. The lobby had been packed with guests, all trying to find a way out of Brussels in the light of the invasion. After trying to make it through the crowds to the desk, he’d given up and decided to return after the mass exodus had been completed. He hadn’t really expected that he’d find the mystery woman here anyway, and after over six hours and nineteen hotels, he still wasn’t expecting to find her here. But Voss hated to leave any stone unturned, and so here he was again.