by Ward Wagher
“That… is not acceptable.” Goering seemed to be recovering his footing.
“No? Well, being shot out of the sky is not acceptable to me!” Schloss shouted. “Tell me right now whether you are with me, Hermann, or not.”
“I think you are over-reacting, Herr Reichschancellor,” Goering said. “Surely we can resolve these difficulties.”
“Over-reacting? Over-reacting?” Schloss shouted again. “If I were over-reacting, you would be hanging from a meat hook until you confessed to whatever I wanted you to say. And, then you would be shot. I simply want to get to the bottom of this and you are not helping. Now… one more time. Are you with me, Hermann?”
“Oh, very well,” Goering said. “You are going to do whatever you are going to do. I cannot stop you.”
“That is not good enough.”
“What do you want?” Goering asked.
“I want your full and unequivocal support. I want your enthusiastic support. Do you understand me?”
Goering was glaring at Schloss, but the fire slowly died in his eyes.
“I will do whatever you want me to do, Herr Schloss. I know you command Germany, and you command my allegiance. Is that good enough.”
“I suppose it will have to do,” Schloss said.
He took Goering’s arm. “Come, Hermann, let’s go out and decide how we are going to deal with this incredible mess.”
And the two men walked back out to the airfield.
CHAPTER FIFTY
June 11, 1942; 4PM
United States Consulate
Berlin, Germany
“Are we on for Lisbon or not?” Gordon Smoke demanded. “The President is waiting for an answer.”
“Something has happened,” Misty Simpson replied. “I cannot get through to anyone in the SS offices. Something has them all frightened, and they will not talk to me.”
Smoke was once again leaning over Misty’s desk, and she thought it was becoming a tired pose. But the sudden scarcity of information was frightening. It wasn’t just the conference in Lisbon.
“What has happened?” Smoke asked. “Why can you not find out? I thought you and Rainer were best friends.”
“I cannot get through to Rainer. I am very concerned. I was supposed to have lunch with him yesterday and he canceled. There was no explanation. I know he is under no obligation to explain things to me, but usually he is courteous about it. This time he was almost abrupt.”
“Perhaps he has been warned to stay clear you,” Smoke said.
“We have discussed the consequences of our… friendship,” Misty said. “If that were the case, he would have told me.”
“If Colonel Donovan warned you about your relationship to Rainer, would you tell him?”
“I would,” she said with cold frankness. “And I have discussed my friendship with Herr Rainer with the Colonel. He told me to keep him informed on how things progress.”
Smoke stood up straight. “I find that hard to believe.”
“As I have told you repeatedly, Gordie, it really doesn’t matter what you think. I do not get my instructions from you. We are supposed to be working together. Your infantile tantrums make that very difficult.”
“Infantile? That is pretty nervy of you, Lady. If I gave the word, Cordell would have you out of here.”
“Is that so?” She clenched her fists on her desk. “If that is the case, then how about sending Secretary Hull a request to have me removed. Then we can find out once and for all who gives the orders around here.”
“I think I will do just that!” Smoke retorted. “I have had it with your snide remarks and your lack of respect. I deserve better than that, and I will get it.”
“Fine, Gordie. Go run to Daddie and tell him that I hurt your feelings.”
He snarled and launched himself out of the room. She knew that he usually would take a lap or two of the building and eventually cool down. Gordon Smoke was nothing if not predictable. And Donovan had told her that Hull had told Smoke that there were limits to his authority.
As she sat at the desk, she pondered the situation. Something had happened and none of her contacts in Berlin knew anything. Rainer and Schloss had been out of the city, apparently, a few days previously. She did not know where and for what purposes. She reminded herself that the Germans were not obligated to tell her everything they knew, even though she and Rainer were cordial. Sooner or later he would call with a dinner invitation. She would use the opportunity to put on her pout and he would tell her more than he probably realized or planned.
§ § §
June 12, 1942; 4AM
Western Wall
Jerusalem, Palestine
Menachem Begin slithered out of the small tunnel like a viper coming out of its den, and stood up. He brushed himself off, and then bent to help his two compatriots out of the hole. The three men carefully slid the stones back into place. Only a careful examination of the area would review the tunnel entrance. Even so, Begin did not expect to use the tunnel again. His work for this night was complete. The three men split up and went their separate ways.
Begin made his way to his home, where his wife and children slept. He was running late, and it would not do to be on the streets at sunrise. Any who encountered him might ask uncomfortable questions. He hoped that the SS shadow that Ben Gurion had on him would not reappear as well. Skorzeny was too good at tracking him.
Otto Skorzeny quartered the ancient city of Jerusalem and wondered how he had managed to lose track of Begin. His instincts told him that the bumbling Jew had been all too aware of those following him, and had lulled them all into inattention. The Austrian was berating himself for allowing Begin to fool him, and he was also worried about what had driven Begin to break his cover on this particular night. He had a suspicion he would not be pleased when he found out.
§ § §
June 12, 1942; 10AM
Government Council Chamber
Reichschancellery
Berlin, Germany
“Can we confirm Heydrich is dead?” Ribbentrop asked. “Is it certain?”
“We have his body,” Rainer said. “We have people in the SS who clearly identified him. The rebels we captured alive confirmed he was with them.”
“And what was he doing out there?” Peter Schreiber asked. “Of all people, he should have known better.”
Schloss managed a one-sided grin, though he was still very angry about the events in Augsburg. “It appears it was something as simple as cabin fever. Heydrich had an overwhelming urge to get out of the safe house and take part in some action. He always was that way.”
Rainer looked at him curiously. Okay, Hennie, you slipped again, Schloss thought. Rainer cannot figure out how you know that, and you obviously cannot tell him you read it in a history book.
“Aside from a frightening afternoon, I would have to say that the Reichsprotektor achieved what he set out to do,” Goering commented. “Perhaps things will quiet down inside the country now, and we can focus on dealing with the English.”
“If that is even possible,” Canaris said. “I cannot believe Churchill’s intransigence.”
Schloss tilted his head in agreement. “We have July 17th locked in for the meeting. I think we should go see Truman regardless of whether Churchill shows up.”
Ribbentrop nodded. “If nothing else, it will be an opportunity to forge a closer relationship with the Americans.”
As long as you do not manage to screw it up, you moron, Schloss thought unkindly.
“That should be our goal,” Peter said. “Do we have any idea as to how Truman views Germany?”
“I have not succeeded in getting our operatives very close to the seat of power in Washington,” Canaris said. “Most of what we know comes from published sources.”
Goering looked over at Canaris with disdain. “Then what, pray tell, are you doing running the Abwehr, Wilhelm?”
“That’s enough, Hermann,” Schloss said softly.
“No, Herr Reich
schancellor,” Goering shot back. “With respect, it is not. I do not know what the admiral is playing at, and I cannot remember the last time he achieved any kind of an intelligence breakthrough.”
Canaris sat at the table and watched Goering with a slight grin. Schloss shook his head.
“Enough! There are plenty of issues to concern us without this sniping at one-another. Now… does anyone have any objection to my trip to Lisbon to meet with Vice-President Truman?”
The room was silent. Schloss surveyed the room. Canaris was still smiling at Goering. The others watched Schloss.
“I believe it is important for you to attend,” Peter said.
“Fine,” Schloss said, “now does anyone have any ideas on whether we should announce this?”
“Perhaps it would be wise to consult with the Americans,” Ribbentrop said.
“A good idea,” Rainer said. “We most certainly do not want to embarrass them.”
“I can speak with Gordon Smoke,” Peter said. “He is an idiot, but he has a direct line to Cordell Hull.”
“I think you should do that, Peter,” Schloss said. “We really want to keep this low key.”
“On the other hand,” Goering said, “would it be worth embarrassing Churchill by publicly calling on him to attend, when he obviously does not want to.”
“That is a good point,” Schloss said. “I would like to hear what the rest of you think.”
During the meetings, the assistants who worked for the various members of the governing council would often slip in and out, performing errands for their masters. Or sometimes slipping a note in front of them. One of the SS minions silently laid an envelope next to the Reichsprotektor. Rainer picked up the envelope that was placed by him, and tapped it on the table as he listened to the conversation. The discussion on how to handle the conference announcements was interesting and it was ten minutes before he opened the envelope.
Schloss watched as Rainer read the note. The color drained out of his face.
“What is it, Karl?” Schloss asked. The others turned to look at him.
“There has been a massive explosion in Jerusalem,” he said. “The Dome of the Rock is gone.”
Schloss took a deep breath in shock. Several in the room looked puzzled.
“Forgive me,” Ribbentrop said, “but what does that mean?”
“It is something like the second or third most sacred site for Moslems,” Schloss said heavily. “Mein herren, we have a grave problem.”
“Palestine just went to hell,” Rainer said. “And we are the ones left holding the bag.”
“I still do not understand,” Ribbentrop said.
“It means that practically all of the Moslem world will declare a holy war against the Jews and by extension against us,” Schloss said. “Our lives just became immeasurably complicated.”
The End
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Ward Wagher lives in Greenville, South Carolina with his wife. A college professor and an Information Technology professional, Wagher writes Adult Christian Fiction, and Christian Science-Fiction.
Visit Ward’s web site at www.wardwagher.com. He can be reached at [email protected]
