They were cresting the brow of a hill when Kat saw the roadblock, two Kübelwagens facing each other at an angle, a halftrack further beyond them, soldiers with rifles. Her blood froze. This was no coincidence and also no escape. On such a narrow country road, even turning around would be difficult. It was still half a mile away. She quickly scanned the hedgerows, a farm gate, the entrance to a field, a clump of gorse bushes. Maybe they had time.
Dore stamped on the brakes. “Holy shit! D’ya think they’ve seen us?”
“Of course they’ve seen us,” she snapped. “They’re waiting for us.”
“Fuck! What do we do?”
“Not panic,” Kelly said, pulling out a pair of field glasses. “Pull into that gateway, Jock.” As Dore maneuvered the Bentley into the field entrance, he squinted through the binoculars. “There are eleven of them. Eight soldiers, armed with MP40s, one gunner on the halftrack and two Officers.”
“What if we drive straight through it?” Kat suggested. “There’s a sharp bend on the other side of the roadblock. They’ll never have time to gun us down.”
Kelly shook his head. “They’ll just radio ahead. We’ve got to take them out.”
“Take them out?” she gasped. “How?”
“We’re going to walk through the cornfields. They’ll never see us.” Opening the door, he climbed out. “Stay in the car with Jock. Give us ten minutes, then drive to the roadblock. If they let you through, fine, we’ll meet you a mile up the road. If they try to arrest you…” he shrugged. “We’ll take them out.”
“What, all of them?”
“All of them… although you might have to help. Both of you keep your pistols handy.”
She watched them as they removed their weapons from the trunk, Sandro checking the magazine’s ammo on his submachine gun, Stewart stuffing ammunition magazines into his pockets, Kelly screwing silencers onto the barrels of the MP40s. If they used silencers, the Germans wouldn’t know what was happening. The soldiers would simply keel over. If they realized they were under attack, they wouldn’t know where to return fire.
“We’re going,” Kelly said, racking his submachine gun. “Ten minutes, Jock.”
They sat in silence as, one by one, Kelly, Capetti and Stewart filed through the farm gate and into the cornfield. Seconds later, they were out of sight, concealed by the hedge that ran the length of the field.
Unbuttoning her dress, Kat pulled out the Baby Browning and released the safety. “Are you okay if I stay in the back, Jock? We’ll both have more room if things get sticky.”
“I’m fine. Don’t worry about me. If the German who Sam insulted is at the roadblock, won’t he want to know where Sam went? It’s just you and me in the car.”
She shrugged. “We dropped him off at Army Headquarters.”
“So where are we supposed to be going? I’m dressed as an SS Sergeant, and I don’t speak German.”
“I’ll tell them you were wounded and lost your voice, which is why you’re driving me.”
“And who are you?”
“I’m SS Oberführer Pernass’s daughter. We’re on our way to Vienna. Nothing like the truth to stir people up.”
She squinted at the distant roadblock. The soldiers were moving around now, arranging themselves in a line across the road, no doubt wondering why the Bentley wasn’t moving. She heard a blackbird twitter in a nearby tree and, in the distance, a cow lowing. She picked up Kelly’s field glasses and scanned the roadblock. The soldiers were no longer moving. They were simply waiting. She studied the Officers. They didn’t look like the men in the Mercedes. If it were a different unit, maybe they would let them through. Maybe the roadblock was merely a coincidence. Her gut instinct told her that wasn’t true. She looked at her watch. Fifteen minutes passed.
“Time to go, Jock.”
Restarting the engine, Dore pulled slowly out of the entrance, working his way through the gears until they were doing forty miles an hour, a comfortable speed for a Bentley. The roadblock drew nearer. The Officer’s faces more discernible. This was no common roadblock. Even the soldiers held their rifles at the ready. She tried to stay calm. The Bentley slowed, the roadblock less than a hundred yards away. One of the Officers stepped into the middle of the road and raised his arm, a stern look on his face. Dore slowed, then braked to a gentle stop. Silence.
Kat studied the Officer’s faces. One was young, probably in his early twenties, the other was older and wore a short mustache. He was a Captain and carried himself with authority. Walking stiffly around to the driver’s door, he peered at Kat and waved at Dore to lower the window. Dore took his time, winding down the window slowly as if he had all day.
“Papers please,” the Officer said, irritably.
Dore didn’t speak. He simply handed the man his papers and waited.
The Officer frowned as he studied the papers, occasionally glancing at Kat. “Where are your other passengers?”
Kat wound her window down. “He can’t speak, Captain. He was wounded in North Africa. Can I help you?”
“Where are your other passengers?” he said sharply. “There were four of you.”
She smiled and shook her head. “You’re mistaken, Captain. There were five of us. We dropped Captain Knepler and his Officers off at Army Headquarters. Is there a problem?”
The Captain’s eye narrowed. “You think I am stupid? Please step out of the car.”
She shook her head again. This time, she didn’t smile. The machine gunner on the halftrack instantly collapsed, and microseconds later one of the soldiers slumped against a Kübelwagen. “I’m really sorry, but we can’t. We’d get caught in the crossfire.”
“That wasn’t a request!” the Captain barked. “It was an order! Step out of the car!”
Another soldier went down, then another. One of the other soldiers suddenly noticed and looked around in alarm when the back of his head blew away. It made a sickening sound, blood, and bone splattering against the other Kübelwagen, causing the young Officer to stare at the body in shock.
“Captain!” he shrieked. Suddenly, he too collapsed. Now there were only four of them.
The remaining soldiers looked around in panic. Then they also went down. The Captain’s head shot around, and he jumped away from the car. He was too late. Kat shot him three times in his nose with the baby Browning.
Kat smiled at the Captain lying in a pool of his own blood and said, “maybe without a nose, you goddamn NAZI won’t smell so bad.”
CHAPTER 19
They were descending into the foothills when they saw Vienna, the river Danube glistening in the misty afternoon light. Fingers of sunlight were breaking through the clouds, and it gave the city a magical feeling. Kat always loved Vienna, with its forested mountains, wonderful old bierkellers, and historic architecture. 1,700 feet above sea level, it snowed heavily in the winter, but the summers were glorious, and she’d always wanted to spend more time here. It’s sad that Hitler was born in Austria. That unfortunate event would forever taint an otherwise beautiful country.
She turned to look at Kelly. He wore a dark charcoal suit with a blue and red striped tie, and she couldn’t get over how nice he looked. He hadn’t spoken much since the roadblock.
“Are you okay?”
“Ya, I’m okay. I’m a little worried about my accent. What if someone else gets suspicious of me?”
“Your German’s fine, Sam. You lost your temper. You told that Officer to fuck off in English.”
“The Germans frequently say fuck off in English. Verpiss dich just isn’t the same.”
She laughed. “Which would be fine if we weren’t at war. Everyone’s super-sensitive. Just ke
ep your temper under control. Anyway, we won’t be in that kind of situation. We’re not going in there with guns blazing. We’re going to try and talk to Pernass. You should be in your element.”
“What, talking to my uncle? I doubt it. Last time we spoke, I almost lost it.”
“How so?”
“He was condescending to my aunt, so I was extremely rude to him.”
She shrugged. “Good. Then he won’t do what he usually does.”
“Why, does he try to bully you, as well?”
“Always.” Kat chuckled. “Doesn’t work though.”
“I can imagine,” Dore remarked. “Which reminds me, what are we lot supposed to do while all this is going down?”
“I’m glad you asked Jock because you guys need to be very aware of what’s going on, but you can’t make it obvious. You need to blend in with the other guests and be within earshot. If things go bad, I may need you to take over. So you and Sandro can’t drink.”
“You’ve got to be kidding,” he groaned. “Everyone’s gonna be drinking.”
“I’m serious about not drinking. If Pernass agrees to talk, we’ll probably end up in the hotel bar. You’ll look suspicious if you don’t have a glass in your hand, just don’t drink.”
“If this ever gets back to Scotland,” Dore snorted, “I’ll lose all respect from me drinking mates. Maybe be banned from me favorite pubs. A Scottish fate worse than death. Mums will be ashamed of me. Pops will disown me.” Dore turned to Capetti, “General, help me please. Put a gun to me head and give me a respectable death.”
They were passing a riding stable, where a herd of white horses cantered gracefully across a paddock. Stewart let out a whoop. “Wow! Look at that, Kat! Viennese horses.”
She glanced at them, but her thoughts were elsewhere. She needed to be familiar with the hotel’s restaurants and bars, which meant wandering around without drawing attention to herself. Having Kelly with her would help. They needed to make sure that Pernass didn’t see them.
“Sandro, do you remember what Pernass looks like? Would you recognize him?”
Capetti pursed his lips. “Sure. I saw him in the Officers’ Mess at the airfield in Algeria. He’s also an SS Oberführer. There can’t be many of those around. Why?”
“Because I might need you to map out the restaurants and bars at the hotel. Then we all need to have a meeting to decide how to orchestrate this.”
“Is easy, Kat. We go wherever you go.”
She shook her head. “It needs to be more organized than that.” She looked at Kelly. “Don’t you think?”
“Yes, I do. Don’t worry. We’ll work it out when we get there.”
She stared at the road ahead. They were entering the city now. Driving on a road that followed the banks of the river, Kat gazed at an older bombed out building, glimpsing at a grand piano protruding from the smoking rubble. There had been a recent air raid, and a sudden thought occurred to her. Was Kelly right about the SOE? Was the hotel going to be bombed, disposing of Pernass, the team, and herself in one fell swoop?
As they rounded the next bend, the Imperial Hotel came into sight. Painted white and boasting rows of elegant spires, it was huge. Set back beyond a winding driveway and manicured gardens, it was more like a royal chateau than a hotel, and Kat was thankful they were driving a Bentley. As they turned into the drive and drew nearer, she saw cars parked in front of the hotel. There were two Rolls Royces, a Bentley almost identical to theirs, two Humber Super Snipes and a row of Daimler staff cars. Were the Generals already here?
Pulling up at the hotel’s main entrance, Dore sat there for a moment. When no one moved, he looked back at Kat. “Shouldn’t you and Sam go in first? If we all go in together, it’ll draw too much attention.”
She glanced up at the hotel entrance. The doors were open, but there were no porters in evidence. Of course, there wouldn’t be, they were in the middle of a war. “I’d hate to come face to face with Pernass. Sandro, would you mind checking?”
Capetti hesitated for a moment, nodded and got out. She watched him as he climbed the steps. What if he did find Pernass hanging around in the hotel foyer? Would he wait until her stepfather had gone, leaving them sitting wondering in the car? Or would he come back and tell them? Moments later, Capetti reappeared giving a thumbs-up. The foyer was clear.
Climbing out, she brushed the creases from the front of her dress, waited for Sam to join her and headed up the steps with him. As they passed Capetti, she said, “Come with us, Sandro. You’re my chief of staff.”
“How life changes,” he whispered, glaring at her. “I used to be your Commanding Officer. Now you boss.”
“And I was a typist,” she retorted. “Now I’m Lady Muckety Muck.”
The hotel’s reception area was enormous. Chandeliers hung from a lofty ceiling, and potted palms softened imposing Corinthian pillars. The marble floors crowded with guests, cigar smoke hanging in the air. Some lounged on the elegant couches, others just stood around, chatting to each other. All of them were dressed as if for a banquet. There were women in evening gowns, others in formal summer dresses. The men wore dinner jackets or high-ranking German uniforms, except as far as she could see, there were no Generals in evidence and no sign of Pernass. Maybe they were still in their rooms or the bar.
“My God, it’s like India,” Sam whispered. “High society in uniform.”
A pretty young woman whose nametag read Ursula, sat behind a glistening reception desk and greeted the entourage as they approached. Batting her eyelashes at Kelly, she informed them that the elevators were working and they’d been allocated the Capri Suite on the third floor. It was one of the most beautiful suites in the hotel and had an extraordinarily extravagant bathroom. The telephones were still in working order, however, room service would be limited tonight. She hoped it wasn’t an inconvenience.
“Your staff has rooms on the same floor,” she informed Kelly, with a shy smile. “I hope that’s acceptable.”
“It’s fine,” he said haughtily. “This is my chief of staff. Would you mind directing him to your conference room?”
“Of course, sir. Do you need to book the room?”
“Not at the moment, but I’d like him to view the room.”
Leaving Capetti to organize the staff and check-in, they made their way to the elevators. Despite the opulence of the hotel, there were old fashioned elevators with double-concertina doors and a lever-system. A short, balding Elevator Operator man almost stood to attention when they asked for the third floor. She glanced at Kelly as the car creaked upwards. He stared straight ahead and wore a funny half-smile.
Getting out on the third floor, they walked down the silent corridor towards their room. It smelled of vacuumed carpet and furniture polish. When they entered the suite, they saw that flowers on a central table. It was a beautiful suite. The bedroom had a four-poster bed prepared with chocolates on the pillows. From their window, they had a beautiful view of the River Danube. It gave Kat a funny feeling. They were in a beautiful hotel suite, in one of the world’s most beautiful cities, yet they might soon be killing a room full of German Generals. Maybe it wouldn’t come to that. Perhaps Pernass would persuade them otherwise… if he didn’t shoot her on sight.
CHAPTER 20
"What do you mean, there are no Generals?” Kat said, in astonishment. “We saw all the staff cars. They have to be here.”
Now dark, the whole team was in Kat’s suite. Stewart leafed through a fashion magazine with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth, Capetti peered at a painting of Melk Abbey and complaining about how small his room was, as Kelly rummaged in the drinks cabinet.
“There are no Generals,” Dore repeated. “And ther
e aren’t gonna be.”
“Sandro saw Pernass in the bar. What’s he doing here if there are no Generals? Why are so many of the guests dressed up as if they’re going to a royal wedding?”
“Most of them are SS Officers and their wives. They’re celebrating the annexation of Austria. Pernass is only here as a guest. There are no Generals, Kat, and there aren’t going to be. Sandro checked the guest list.”
Standing up, she went over to the window and gazed out at Vienna, unfortunately in blackout, but she could still see the shape of the city silhouetted against the sky.
“Then we have to change our plans,” she said, turning back to Dore. “We’re not going to kill Pernass. We’re going to talk to him. I want to know what the fuck’s going on.”
Closing the drinks cabinet and handing her a glass of lemonade, Kelly sat down on the couch next to Dore. He didn’t speak at first. He just stared at her with his lips pressed together. Eventually, he gave her a sympathetic smile.
“You know what’s going on, Kat. I warned you when we were in Italy. Pernass knew you were coming. Who else would appear in Vienna in a brand new Bentley surrounded by NAZIs?”
“What are you saying, Sam?”
“I’ll be blunt. At this time of year, it gets dark at about 2000 in London. Given an hour’s leeway to prepare and takeoff, it takes approximately three hours for a Lancaster bomber to reach Vienna.” He hesitated. “And you know what that means.”
“Impress me, Einstein.”
“We’ve got until midnight to leave the hotel.”
“To go where? If you’re right, and Fleming intends to kill us all, we won’t have anywhere to go.”
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