Jack Higgins - Eagle Has Landed

by Eagle Has Landed [lit]

  He replaced his pince-nez and looked up at Radl 'So you see, Radl,' Himmler went on, 'I have the very best of reasons for being sure that Admiral Canaris must have vetoed this scheme of yours.'

  Radl stared at him dumbly. His blood ran cold. Himmler said gently, 'It would not be in accordance with his general aim and that aim is not the victory of the German Reich in this war, I assure you.'

  That the Head of the Abwehr was working against the State? The idea was monstrous. But then Radl remembered the Admiral's acid tongue. The derogatory remarks about high state officials, about the Fuhrer himself on occasions. His reaction earlier that evening. We have lost the war. And that from the Head of the Abwehr.

  Himmler pressed the buzzer and Rossman came in. 'I have an important phone call to make. Show the Herr Oberst around for ten minutes then bring him back.' He turned to Radl, 'You haven't seen the cellars here, have you?'

  'No, Herr Reichsfuhrer.'

  He might have added that the Gestapo cellars at Prinz Albrechtstrasse were the last places on earth he wanted to see. But he knew that he was going to whether he liked it or not, knew from the slight smile on Rossman's mouth that it was all arranged.

  .

  On the ground floor they went along a corridor that led to the rear of the building. There was an iron door guarded by two Gestapo men wearing steel helmets and armed with machine pistols. 'Are you expecting a war or something?' Radl enquired.

  Rossman grinned. 'Let's say it impresses the customers.'

  The door was unlocked and he led the way down. The passage at the bottom was brilliantly lit, brickwork painted white, doors opening to right and left. It was extraordinarily quiet.

  'Might as well start in here,' Rossman said and opened the nearest door and switched on the light.

  It was a conventional enough looking cellar painted white except for the opposite wall which had been faced with concrete in a surprisingly crude way. for the surface was uneven and badly marked. There was a beam across the ceiling near that wall, chains hanging down and coil spring stirrups on the end.

  'Something they're supposed to have a lot of success with lately,' Rossman took out a packet of cigarettes and offered Radl one. 'I think it's a dead loss myself. I can't see much point in driving a man insane when you want him to talk.'

  'What happens?'

  'The suspect is suspended in those stirrups, then they simply turn the electricity on. They throw buckets of water on that concrete wall to improve the electrical flow or something. Extraordinary what it does to people. If you look close you'll see what I mean.'

  When Radl approached the wall he saw that what he had taken to be a crudely finished surface was in fact a patina of hand prints in raw concrete where victims had clawed in agony.

  'The Inquisition would have been proud of you.'

  'Don't be bitter, Herr Oberst, it doesn't pay, not down here. I've seen generals on their knees down here and begging.' Rossman smiled genially. 'Still, that's neither here nor there.' He walked to the door. 'Now what can I show you next?'

  'Nothing, thank you,' Radl said. 'You've made your point, wasn't that the object of the exercise? You can take me back now.'

  'As you say, Herr Oberst.' Rossman shrugged and turned out the light.

  .

  When Radl went back into the office, he found Himmler busily writing in a file. He looked up and said calmly, 'Terrible the things that have to be done. It personally sickens me to my stomach. I can't abide violence of any sort. It is the curse of greatness, Herr Oberst, that it must step over dead bodies to create new life.'

  'Herr Reichsfuhrer,' Radl said. 'What do you want of me?'

  Himmler actually smiled, however slightly, contriving to look even more sinister. 'Why, it's really very simple. This Churchill business. I want it seeing through.'

  'But the Admiral doesn't.'

  'You have considerable autonomy, is it not so? Run your own office? Travel extensively? Munich, Paris, Antwerp within the past fortnight?' Himmler shrugged. 'I see no reason why you shouldn't be able to manage without the Admiral realizing what's going on. Most of what needs to be done could be handled in conjunction with other business.'

  'But why, Herr Reichsfuhrer, why is it so important that it be done this way?'

  'Because, in the first place, I think the Admiral totally wrong in this affair. This scheme of yours could work if everything falls right for it, just like Skorzeny at Gran Sasso. If it succeeds, if Churchill is either killed or kidnapped - and personally, I'd sooner see him dead - then we have a world sensation An incredible feat of arms.'

  'Which if the Admiral had had his way would never have taken place.' Radl said I see now. Another nail in his coffin?'

  'Would you deny that he would have earned it in such circumstances?'

  'What can I say?'

  'Should such men be allowed to get away with it? Is that what you want, Radl, as a loyal German officer?'

  'But the Herr Reichsfuhrer must see what an impossible position this puts me in,' Radl said 'My relations with the Admiral have always been excellent.' It occurred to him, too late that that was hardly the point to make under the circumstances and he added hurriedly, 'Naturally my personal loyalty is beyond question, but what kind of authority would I have to carry such a project through?'

  Himmler took a heavy manilla envelope from his desk drawer He opened it and produced a letter which he handed to Radl without a word. It was headed by the German Eagle with the Iron Cross in gold.

  FROM THE LEADER AND THE CHANCELLOR OF THE STATE MOST SECRET

  Colonel Radl is acting under my direct and personal orders in a matter of the utmost importance to the Reich. He is answerable only to me. All personnel, military and civil, without distinction of rank, will assist him in any way he sees fit. Adolf Hitler

  Radl was stunned It was the most incredible document he had ever held in his hand. With such a key, a man could open any door in the land, be denied nothing. His flesh crawled and a strange thrill ran through him.

  'As you can see, anyone who wishes to query that document would have to be prepared to take it up with the Fuhrer himself.' Himmler rubbed his hands together briskly 'So, it is settled. You are prepared to accept this duty your Fuhrer places on you?'

  There was really nothing to be said except the obvious thing 'Of course, Herr Reichsfuhrer.'

  'Good ' Himmler was obviously pleased. To business then. You are right to think of Steiner. The very man for the job I suggest that you go and see him without delay.'

  'It occurs to me,' Radl said cheerfully, that in view of his recent history he may not be interested in such an assignment.'

  'He will have no choice in the matter,' Himmler said. Four days ago his father was arrested on suspicion of treason against the state.'

  'General Steiner?' Radl said in astonishment

  'Yes, the old fool seems to have got himself involved with entirely the wrong sort of people. He's being brought to Berlin at the moment.'

  'To - to Prinz Albrechtstrasse?'

  'But of course. You might point out to Steiner that not only would it be in his own best interests to serve the Reich in any way he can at the moment. Such evidence of loyalty might well affect the outcome of his father's case.' Radl was genuinely horrified but Himmler carried straight on 'Now, a few facts I would like you to elaborate on this question of disguise that you mention in your outline. That interests me.'

  Radl was aware of a feeling of total unreality No one was safe - no one. He had known of people, whole families, who had disappeared after the Gestapo called. He thought of Trudi, his wife, his three cherished daughters and the same fierce courage that had brought him through the Winter War flowed through him again. For them, he thought, I've got to survive for them. Anything it takes - anything.

  He started to speak, amazed at the calmness in his own voice. The British have many commando regiments as the Reichsfuhrer is aware but perhaps one of the most successful has been the unit formed by a British officer named
Stirling to operate behind our lines in Africa. The Special Air Service.'

  'Ah, yes the man they called the Phantom Major. The one Rommel thought so highly of.'

  'He was captured in January of this year, Herr Reichsfuhrer. I believe he is in Colditz now, but the work he started has not only continued, but expanded. According to our present information there are due to return to Britain soon, probably to prepare for an invasion of Europe, the First and Second SAS Regiments and the Third and Fourth French Parachute Battalions. They even have a Polish Independent Parachute Squadron.'

  'And the point you are trying to make?'

  'Little is known of such units by the more conventional branches of the army. It is accepted that their purposes are secret, therefore less likely that they would be challenged by anyone.'

  'You would pass off our men as Polish members of this unit?'

  'Exactly, Herr Reichsfuhrer.'

  'And uniforms?'

  'Most of these people are now wearing camouflage smock and trousers in action, rather similar to SS pattern. They also wear the English parachutists' red beret with a special badge. A winged dagger with the inscription Who dares - wins.'

  'How dramatic,' Himmler said drily.

  The Abwehr has ample supplies of such clothing from those taken prisoner during SAS operations in the Greek Islands, Yugoslavia and Albania.'

  'And equipment?'

  'No problem. The British Special Operations Executive still do not appreciate the extent to which we have penetrated the Dutch resistance movement.'

  'Terrorist movement,' Himmler corrected him 'But carry on.'

  'Almost nightly they drop further supplies of arms sabotage equipment radios for field use, even money. They still don't realize that all the radio messages they receive are from the Abwehr.'

  'My God,' Himmler said, and still we continue to lose the war.' He got up walked to the fire and warmed his hands. 'This whole question of wearing enemy uniform is a matter of great delicacy and it is forbidden under the Geneva Convention. There is only one penalty. The firing squad.'

  'True, Herr Reichsfuhrer.'

  'In this case it seems to me a compromise would be in order. The raiding party will wear normal uniform underneath these British camouflage outfits. That way they will be fighting as German soldiers, not gangsters. Just before the actual attack, they could remove these disguises You agree?'

  Radl personally thought it probably the worst idea he'd ever heard of, but realized the futility of argument 'As you say, Herr Reichsfuhrer.'

  'Good. Everything else seems to me simply a question of organization The Luftwaffe and the Navy for transportation No trouble there The Fuhrer's Directive will open all doors for you Is there anything you wish to raise with me?'

  'As regards Churchill himself,' Radl said 'Is he to be taken alive?'

  'If possible,' Himmler said. 'Dead if there is no other way.'

  'I understand '

  'Good, then I may safely leave the matter in your hands, Rossman will give you a special phone number on the way out I wish to be kept in daily touch with your progress.' He replaced the reports and the map in the briefcase and pushed it across.

  'As you say, Herr Reichsfuhrer.'

  Radl folded the precious letter, put it back in the manilla envelope which he slipped inside his tunic. He picked up the briefcase and his leather greatcoat and moved to the door.

  Himmler, who had started writing again, said, 'Colonel Radl.'

  Radl turned 'Herr Reichsfuhrer?'

  'Your oath as a German soldier, to your Fuhrer and the State You remember it?'

  'Of course, Herr Reichsfuhrer.'

  Himmler looked up, the face cold, enigmatic 'Repeat it now.'

  'I swear by God this holy Oath I will render unconditional obedience to the Fuhrer of the German Reich and People. Adolf Hitler, the Supreme Commander of the Armed Forces and will be ready as a brave soldier, to stake my life at any time to this oath.'

  His eye socket was on fire again, his dead hand ached 'Excellent, Colonel Radl. And remember one thing. Failure is a sign of weakness.'

  Himmler lowered his head and continued to write Radl got the door open as fast as he could and stumbled outside.

  .

  He changed his mind about going home to his apartment. Instead he got Rossman to drop him at the Tirpitz Ufer, went up to his office and bedded down on the small camp bed that he kept for such emergencies. Not that he slept much. Every time he closed his eyes he saw the silver pince-nez, the cold eyes, the calm, dry voice making its monstrous statements.

  One thing was certain, or so he told himself at five o'clock when he finally surrendered and reached for the bottle of Courvoisier. He had to see this thing through not for himself, but for Trudi and the children Gestapo surveillance was bad enough for most people But me,' he said as he put the light out again I have to have Himmler himself on my tail.'

  After that he slept and was awakened by Hofer at eight o'clock with coffee and hot rolls Radl got up and walked across to the window eating one of the rolls It was a grey morning and raining heavily.

  'Was it a bad raid Karl?'

  'Not too bad I hear eight Lancasters were shot down.'

  'If you look in the inside breast pocket of my tunic you'll find an envelope, Radl said 'I want you to read the letter inside.'

  He waited, peering out into the rain and turned after a moment or so. Hofer was staring down at the letter obviously shaken 'But what does this mean, Herr Oberst?'

  'The Churchill affair, Karl It proceeds. The Fuhrer wishes it so I had that from Himmler himself last night.'

  'And the Admiral, Herr Oberst?'

  'Is to know nothing.'

  Hofer stared at him m honest bewilderment, the letter in one hand Radl took it from him and held it up 'We are little men, you and I, caught in a very large web and we must tread warily. This directive is all we need. Orders from the Fuhrer himself Do you follow me?'

  'I think so.'

  'And trust me?'

  Hofer sprang to attention 'I have never doubted you, Herr Oberst Never.'

  Radl was aware of a surge of affection. 'Good, then we proceed as I have indicated and under conditions of the strictest secrecy.'

  'As you say, Herr Oberst.'

  'Good, Karl, then bring me everything. Everything we have, and we'll go over it again.'

  He moved to the window, opened it and took a deep breath. There was the acrid tang of smoke on the air from last night's fires. Parts of the city that he could see were a desolate ruin. Strange how excited he felt.

  .

  'She needs a man, Karl.'

  'Herr Oberst?' Hofer said

  They were leaning over the desk, the reports and charts spread before them Mrs. Grey. Radl explained 'She needs a man.'

  'Ah I see now Herr Oberst.' Hofer said. 'Someone with broad shoulders A blunt instrument?'

  'No.' Radl frowned and took one of his Russian cigarettes from the box on the table 'Brains as well-that is essential.'

  Hofer lit the cigarette for him 'A difficult combination.'

  'It always is. Who does Section One have working for them in England at the moment, who might be able to help? Someone thoroughly reliable?'

  There are perhaps seven or eight agents who may be so considered. People like Snow White, for example. He's been working in the offices at the Naval Department in Portsmouth for two years. We receive regular and valuable information on North Atlantic convoys from him.'

  Radl shook his head impatiently. 'No, no one like that. Such work is too important to be jeopardized in any way. Surely to God there are others?'

  'At least fifty.' Hofer shrugged. 'Unfortunately the BIA section of MI5 has had a remarkably successful run during the past eighteen months.'

  Radl got up and went to the window. He stood there tapping one foot impatiently. He was not angry - worried more than anything else. Joanna Grey was sixty-eight years of age and no matter how dedicated, no matter how reliable, she needed a man. As Hof
er had put it, a blunt instrument. Without him the whole enterprise could founder.

  His left hand was hurting, the hand which was no longer there, a sure sign of stress, and his head was splitting. Failure is a sign of weakness, Colonel. Himmler had said that, the dark eyes cold. Radl shivered uncontrollably, fear almost moving his bowels as he remembered the cellars at Prinz Albrechtstrasse.

  Hofer said diffidently, 'Of course, there is always the Irish Section.'

  'What did you say?'

  'The Irish Section, sir. The Irish Republican Army.'