Angel of Vengeance: The thrilling sequel to Angel in Red (Anna Fehrbach)

by Christopher Nicole

  He pushed himself up. ‘I must go. I have a meeting at nine o’clock.’

  She grasped his hand. ‘I would like to come with you.’

  ‘It will be very boring.’

  ‘I have some things to pick up. We left in such a hurry yesterday.’

  ‘Well, then, don’t be long.’

  Birgit was waiting for her. If she had understood for some time that Anna was the Reich-Protector’s mistress, this was the first time she had actually slept under Heydrich’s roof. She apparently found it difficult to believe that it had happened, or was still happening. ‘Are we leaving now, Countess?’

  ‘No, no,’ Anna assured her. ‘We are not leaving until Sunday. But I need to go to the castle with the Reich-Protector today. We will be back for lunch.’

  She dressed carefully, wore a broad-brimmed summer hat, but as he liked, left her hair loose, secured by a ribbon on the nape of her neck. It was a warm day, and she wore thin gloves.

  Heydrich was waiting by the open Mercedes tourer. ‘You look enchanting, as always,’ he murmured as he sat beside her in the back.

  ‘I feel excited,’ she admitted.

  ‘Is there something exciting happening today?’

  ‘No, no. But next week . . .’

  He squeezed her hand.

  The bodyguard got into the front seat beside the driver. The front car, which contained Haussmann and another aide, had been waiting, its engine running, and now at a signal from Haussmann it moved off. Heydrich’s driver allowed it to move fifty yards in front, then followed. Another fifty yards behind, the third car also fell into place; this was an armoured vehicle and contained four SS men as well as a mounted machine gun.

  For the first mile the road was relatively empty of traffic, and what there was hastily pulled to one side as Haussmann’s driver blared his horn. Then the traffic thickened, dozens of bicycles roaming across the road and the little caravan slowed.

  ‘It is always like this,’ Heydrich explained.

  ‘I know a short cut,’ Anna said.

  ‘Do you?’

  ‘I have used it often. It will take us round the commercial centre and bring us out within a block of the castle. It will save at least ten minutes.’

  ‘You are a knowledgeable little girl. Where is this short cut?’

  ‘There! That corner.’

  ‘Turn right,’ Heydrich commanded.

  ‘Major Haussmann . . .’

  ‘Let him wrestle with the traffic. It will be interesting to see who gets to the castle first.’

  ‘Yes, sir.’ The driver gave a toot on his horn, and swung right into the narrow road.

  Anna dared not turn her head, but out of the corner of her eye she saw the dray start to cross the road. From behind them there came the blaring of a horn and then a crash and several shouts. ‘What has happened?’ she asked in alarm.

  Heydrich looked back. ‘Some cretin has attempted to cross the road in front of Bittner. He will have to find a new cart.’

  Anna, still looking straight ahead, saw a man strolling along the pavement, suddenly raising his arm as if going to scratch his head, and then thinking better of it. Heydrich did not notice, but the SS agent sitting beside the driver did, and turned his head to look at the man more closely. She reckoned that did not matter as within a couple of minutes he should be dead. ‘It is the next corner,’ she said. ‘It is quite sharp.’

  The driver braked, and as he did so, a man appeared from around the corner itself, carrying a tommy gun. Anna screamed, and dropped to the floor of the car, waiting for the rattle.

  But there was none. Instead the guard opened fire, as did Heydrich, who leapt from the car, drawing his Luger as he did so. ‘Damnation!’ he snapped.

  ‘That man was going to kill you, Herr General,’ the guard said.

  ‘That was his idea,’ Heydrich agreed. ‘But his gun jammed. What rubbish these people are. And now he has got away.’ He turned back to the car. ‘Really, Anna, I am ashamed of you, screaming like a frightened little girl.’

  Anna slowly started to uncoil herself from the floor of the car, her brain an angry turmoil. What rubbish, Heydrich had said with absolute accuracy. How a presumably highly trained assassin could allow his tommy gun to jam at such a moment . . .

  Behind them a horn was blaring as the rear escort finally forced a passage. Heydrich opened the door to get in. ‘Oh, get up,’ he said irritably.

  ‘Herr General!’ the driver screamed.

  Heydrich started to turn back, and there was a clang and a huge explosion. The Reich-Protector uttered a startled sound, threw up his arms, and fell forward, striking his head and clearly losing consciousness. Anna pushed herself up and looked down at him; the back of his tunic was stained with blood.

  *

  The wrecked car was surrounded by people, mainly soldiers and SS men. An ambulance arrived. Anna sat in the back of the car, knees pressed together and hands clenched. Haussmann sat beside her. ‘What happened?’ she asked.

  ‘I am hoping you are going to tell me that, Countess. Did you not see?’

  ‘No.’ She allowed herself a little shiver. ‘I saw a man with a tommy gun. I shouted to warn the General, and then I dropped to the floor. I knew there was going to be shooting. But nothing happened.’

  Haussmann nodded. ‘According to Zimmerman, the tommy gun jammed, and the would-be assassin ran off. Zimmerman fired after him, but I suppose he was so excited he missed.’

  ‘Then there was a strange noise,’ Anna said. ‘A sort of clang, and then an explosion.’

  ‘Yes. There was a second man waiting just around the corner, armed with a grenade. He threw this and struck the front bumper, just beside where the General was standing. That probably saved his life.’

  ‘You mean he’s not dead?’ Anna cried. And hastily added. ‘Oh, thank God for that!’

  ‘He’s very badly hurt,’ Haussmann said, ‘But the medics do not think it is life-threatening.’

  What a fuck-up, Anna thought. A complete fiasco. As for what would happen now . . . ‘The assassins . . .?’

  ‘They escaped. But we will get them. Do you have any idea why the Reich-Protector decided to take this route, so suddenly?’

  ‘It was my fault. He was becoming so impatient with the traffic delays that I suggested we try another street.’

  ‘Hmm. And these people were waiting for him to do that. Very odd. Well, I suppose Feutlanger will work it out. It’s his job. Now, you are sure you are not hurt?’

  ‘I don’t think so.’

  ‘Still, I think you should go to the hospital and have a check-up.’

  ‘Will I be able to see the Reich-Protector?’

  ‘Not immediately. His back is apparently full of bomb fragment and the medics said he would have to undergo emergency surgery. When he comes round, I am sure he will wish to see you.’

  ‘Has Frau Heydrich been informed?’

  ‘She will be, certainly.’

  ‘And the Reichsfuehrer?’

  ‘All of Germany will be informed, Countess. This is a most dastardly crime.’

  *

  There was so much to be considered, top of the list being her own position. Had everything gone according to plan, both the driver and the guard would have died along with Heydrich, leaving her the only person who could explain why he had chosen so sudden and catastrophic a change of route. But both of them were alive, and had overheard the conversation. And Heydrich was also alive, and would remember what had happened. What a mess. One thing was clear: she needed help, desperately, and that could only come from one source.

  ‘Are you sure you are all right, Countess?’ the doctor asked, having examined her. ‘Your blood pressure is high, and yet you are cold.’

  ‘Well, it was a terrible experience,’ Anna pointed out. ‘Is it possible for me to see the Reich-Protector?’

  ‘Not today, Countess. He is undergoing extensive surgery, from which he will have to recover before he can see anyone.’

 
‘But he is going to be all right?’

  ‘Oh, yes. As soon as he is well enough to travel, we will transfer him to Berlin for recuperation. It may take some time, of course . . .’

  *

  Anna hurried to the castle. She was dripping sweat even if her temperature was down, and desperately felt like having a hot bath and a lie down. But first things first. ‘Put me through to Berlin,’ she told the girl on the exchange. ‘Gestapo Headquarters.’

  ‘I am sorry, Countess. No calls are being allowed out of Prague at this time.’

  ‘Look, I am SD. I insist upon being given a line.’

  ‘I am sorry, Countess. I am acting under strict orders from Herr Feutlanger, which have been confirmed by General Zeydorf.’ The military commander of the city.

  ‘Well, then, put me through to Herr Feutlanger.’

  ‘Certainly, Countess.’

  There were various clicks, and then a quiet voice said, ‘Gestapo.’

  ‘This is the Countess von Widerstand. I wish to speak with Herr Feutlanger, immediately.’

  ‘I am sorry, Countess. Herr Feutlanger is not in the office at this time.’

  ‘When do you expect him back?’

  ‘I do not know, Countess. It is the attempt on the life of the Reich-Protector, you see. He is investigating.’

  She called Heydrich’s office, and spoke with Haussmann. ‘I know, Countess, there is the most colossal flap.’

  ‘I feel that I must report to Reichsfuehrer Himmler.’

  ‘That has been done, Countess. Herr Feutlanger handled that personally.’

  But how had he presented the situation? She wondered what would happen if she went to the station and boarded a train for Berlin. But to flee while her immediate boss was still recovering from the assassination attempt might well be regarded as an admission of guilt, unless she could be absolutely sure of Himmler’s support, and while she trusted in his word in personal matters, she could not be sure of his pragmatism. He would undoubtedly be happy were Heydrich to die. But if Heydrich was not going to die, and instead recovered to start making accusations, might the Reichsfuehrer not conclude that his safest course would be to wash his hands of the one person who could betray him?

  In any event, the thought of being arrested at the station and brought back to the castle in ignominy was not something she could face.

  *

  Birgit arrived with their things; she had been commanded to leave the Heydrichs’ house, and was in a state of high excitement. ‘Will we be returning to Berlin, Countess?’ she asked.

  ‘I imagine so,’ Anna said, putting on an appearance of massive calm for all the churning in her stomach. She was used to being in control of situations, or at least to being sure of the backing of a higher authority. Now she only knew that the plot had been a colossal failure; she did not dare return to the music teacher until she could get some idea of what was going on, how far Feutlanger’s investigations had progressed, whether or not he had made any arrests. Apart from the executives, Corda had said there were ten other people involved. And a chain is only as strong as its weakest link.

  She spent a restless night, and next morning rang for a car. ‘Where do you wish to go, Countess?’ asked the transport manager.

  ‘Well, really!’ No one had ever questioned her movements before. ‘I wish to go to the hospital, to visit the Reich-Protector.’

  ‘Ah. Just give me a few minutes to see if a car is available. I will call you back.’

  The bastard, she thought. He obviously felt it necessary to check with Feutlanger, who had apparently taken over control of the castle. Well, she reminded herself, he was in charge of security, and there could be no greater failure of security than to have the country’s ruler blown up by a bomb. He was probably sweating more profusely than Anna herself.

  There was a tap on the door, and Haussmann came in. ‘Countess!’ he cried. ‘Great news! We have them!’

  ‘What?’

  ‘The terrorists.’

  ‘So quickly? They are under arrest? Or dead?’

  She was being optimistic. ‘No, no,’ the major said. ‘They are hiding in a church. But we have the church surrounded. They cannot escape.’

  ‘How do you know they are inside?’

  ‘Well . . .’ He looked embarrassed. ‘Feutlanger received a tip-off. One of their own people.’

  ‘You mean they were betrayed.’

  ‘That is one way of putting it. This idiot actually went to Feutlanger and tried to bargain the safety of his family, who apparently live in Prague, against information. Well, once Feutlanger got him into that cellar of his, it didn’t take long for him to be screaming everything he knew.’

  A total fuck-up, Anna thought. They couldn’t pick men who knew enough about weapons to be sure they were in working order, and to pick someone who had vulnerable relatives . . . ‘He is having a busy time,’ she remarked. ‘Do you think they will surrender?’

  ‘Well, General Zeydorf has taken control, and has virtually every soldier he commands surrounding that church. They must either surrender or die.’

  ‘I do not think they will surrender,’ Anna said. Did she hope that they would not? Did she dare hope that, so she could live? But if they had been betrayed by one of their own, then Corda would also have been betrayed, and if Corda was in Feutlanger’s hands – while Heydrich still lived! So, after all her mental wriggling, her attempts to control events, her orders from London, her instructions from Himmler, it came down, very simply, to herself. And then a capsule? Himmler had sworn he would protect her family. She had to believe that. As for dying, she had a sudden sense of curiosity. The capsule, and then nothing save a beautiful corpse on a concrete slab . . . Or hours of agony, after which she doubted her corpse would still be beautiful. But she would have lived up to the moment of her last breath. And either way, she would have completed her personal mission.

  ‘Countess?’ Haussmann asked anxiously. He had been studying her expression.

  ‘It is all so ghastly. That there should be men out there, waiting to kill the Reich-Protector. Is he all right? There was to be an operation . . .’

  ‘The operation has been carried out. I’m afraid they found more damage than they had suspected.’

  ‘You mean he will not live?’

  ‘Oh, his life isn’t in danger. But it will be a few days before he can be moved. He’s on life support. You know, an oxygen mask, intravenous feeding, that sort of thing.’

  ‘Major Haussmann, Claus, I must see him.’

  ‘I’m not sure he’s conscious.’

  ‘Just to see him.’ She clutched the major’s hand. ‘My God! I feel so guilty. If we hadn’t taken that road . . . I love him, Claus. He is all I have.’

  He gazed at her for several seconds, and she wondered if she had gone too far out of her perceived character. But then he nodded. ‘Of course. I will arrange a car for you.’

  *

  ‘Countess?’ Sister, imposing in her huge winged white cap, looked up from the note. ‘This says you are to be allowed to see the Reich-Protector.’

  ‘I am his closest aide,’ Anna explained.

  ‘If you are hoping to obtain some information as to what happened, you will not do so. The Gestapo have already been here. But the Reich-Protector is only conscious for a few seconds at a time. He certainly cannot speak.’

  ‘I just want to be with him for a little while. Before his wife gets here.’

  Sister raised her eyebrows.

  ‘I am his closest aide,’ Anna said again.

  ‘I see.’ She regarded the note again. ‘Well, Major Haussmann says you are to be allowed to see him. Ten minutes only. Nurse!’

  *

  The nurse led Anna along the corridor. ‘What a terrible thing,’ she remarked.

  ‘Terrible,’ Anna agreed.

  There was an armed SS guard seated outside the door.

  ‘Sister has given permission,’ the nurse said.

  He stood to attention, clicking
his heels. The nurse opened the door, and Anna inhaled; how like the morgue it smelled. ‘Is he ever conscious?’ she asked.

  ‘Oh, yes. It comes and goes. But I do not think he recognizes anyone.’

  ‘I would just like to sit beside him for a while. I am sure if he does come to he will recognize me.’

  The nurse hesitated.

  ‘I am his mistress,’ Anna said. ‘Did you not know that?’

  The girl gulped. ‘Sister said you could stay for ten minutes. I will return then.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Anna sat beside the bed, and the door closed. She gazed at Heydrich’s face, clearly visible beneath the transparent oxygen mask. The machine throbbed slowly and quietly, as the drip attached to his arm clicked, and the monitor attached to his pulse ticked. The face was calm, relaxed, but then she recalled, it had always been calm, and relaxed, even when he had been ordering her to kill. Now he had given his last order.

  She had only ten minutes. There was no time to brood on the past or to consider the future. She stood up, went round the bed, and disconnected the drip. Then she switched off the oxygen pump. The room was suddenly so quiet, with only the pulse monitor ticking, she wondered if the guard would notice. But there was no sound from outside the room either.

  Anna waited, holding her own breath. Heydrich’s eyes opened. She bent over his face. ‘This is your own Final Solution, Reinhard. I have no doubt we will meet again,’ she whispered. ‘In Hell. Wait for me.’

  His mouth moved as if he would have spoken, then the pulse monitor also fell silent.

  *

  Anna waited for another three minutes, then switched on the pumps again. She sat down, staring at Heydrich, waiting for any trace of movement of chest or nostrils or eyes. But there was none. Another minute passed, then she got up and opened the door. ‘There is something wrong,’ she told the guard. ‘One of the machines has stopped.’

  He looked inside, but obviously could not immediately make out anything amiss, as the two pumps were working rhythmically. ‘Countess?’