North Reich (30 page)

      
An hour later, she and Tom were seated on a couch in the Downing’s finished basement.
 
The old Labrador they were ostensibly sitting was asleep in the colonel’s bedroom, snoring and farting.
 
Alicia lay across his chest and his arms were around her.
 
They’d kissed several times, each with increasing passion, and Alicia called a halt to catch her breath and maybe her control.

      
Tom kissed her ear.
 
“Do you think we should get married?”

      
The question did not surprise her.
 
Things happened quickly in wartime when there was no time to spare.
 
She’d been giving a lot of thought to the possibility of spending four or five decades with Tom and liked the idea.
 
She also realized they could be together for a much shorter period of time because of the war.
 
Did she want to be a war widow?
 
No.
 
Did she want to spend the rest of her life wondering at what might have been?
 
No.

      
“I don’t want to be a war widow,” she said sadly.

      
“All joking aside, I don’t want that either.
 
But I’d at least like there to be some time for us together, rather than nothing at all.
 
Nothing’s certain in this life.
 
If we waited until the war was over, we might be very old, and then get hit by lightning, and that would be a terrible waste.”

      
She shifted so they could kiss more comfortably, which they did.
 
She sighed as he unbuttoned the demure collar of her dress and gently slipped his hand down and inside her bra.
 
She’d only recently begun letting him do this, and it was as far as she’d ever gone with a man.
 
She loved the way he caressed her breasts and nipples.
 
She wanted him to go farther, but should they?

      
Tom slipped his other hand under her dress and above her knee.
 
With girdle, garters, stockings, and panties, she thought he was going to be challenged by a terrible obstacle course, but she decided she’d let him do whatever he wished.
 
Correction, whatever she wished, and right now she wanted him to go a lot farther.

      
A flash of light played across the basement window.
 
The Downings were home.
 
Shit, she thought as they got up, straightened their clothing and went upstairs.
 
She hoped Tom’s erection would recede before somebody else noticed.

      
“You’d both be better off staying here tonight,” the colonel said as he threw his cap on the kitchen table.
 
“They closed down the party and MPs are all over the place, checking IDs and generally making a nuisance of themselves.
 
I don’t know if this is some kind of drill or something has happened to stir them up, but it took me an hour to get here.
 
Tomorrow’s Saturday and, Tom, I will want you at the Pentagon first thing in the morning. Alicia, you’ll be better off waiting here as well.
 
Missy can provide you with something to sleep in.”

      
They both agreed and Missy gave them separate rooms at the end of the hallway.
 
Tom couldn’t help but notice that the colonel and his wife slept at the other end.
 
He wondered what would happen if he made the short trip to Alicia’s bedroom?
 
Would she have the door locked?
 
Damn, that would be disappointing.
 
But would she unlock it for him?
 
He stripped down to his skivvies and slipped under the covers.
 
He didn’t know what to do.
 
Maybe he’d come up with a brilliant idea after thinking about it for a while.
 
More likely he wouldn’t.
 
This was not the type of tactical maneuver they discussed in the army’s advanced training courses for officers.
 

      
He caught the slightest hint of sound and motion.
 
The doorknob was turning.
 
He held his breath as the door opened and Alicia slipped in.
 
She was wearing a nightgown that barely came to mid-thigh and was probably Missy’s.
 
The cloth was very thin and he could see the outline of her nipples and pubic hair against it.
 
She smiled tentatively.

      
“You don’t mind, do you?”

      
“Of course not,” he managed to whisper.
 

      
She slid in beside him and they kissed passionately, then ferociously.
 
In an instant both his skivvies and her nightgown were on the floor and their arms and legs were entwined.
 

“I think we’ve both waited too long for this,” she said, “and you’re right, we could all be dead tomorrow.”

      
“Or we could be married next week,” he said as his hands caressed the moist softness between her thighs.
 
She giggled softly and returned the favor, stroking him.

      
When he entered her, she bit his shoulder to keep from crying out and awakening the Downings.
 
It wouldn’t have mattered.
 
Both the colonel and Missy were awake and laughing softly.
 
Missy had checked and seen that Alicia’s door was open.

“How many times do you think they’ll do it tonight?” Missy asked.
 
There had been no MPs checking IDs and there was no real reason for Tom to go to the office in the morning.
 
The retirement party had been a complete bore and they’d decided on this strategy while driving home.

      
“I’d say eight or ten.
 
Just like our first night.”

      
“Dreamer,” she said as her hand slid down his belly.
 
“Do you think you could manage once tonight before you go off to war in the morning?”

The stinging blow landed on Koenig’s face with startling suddenness.
 
He recoiled and instinctively began to react to defend himself.
 
Then he got hold of his senses just as the second slap snapped his head around.

      
“Bastard,” screamed Neumann.
 
His eyes were wide with rage and spittle ran down from his mouth.
 
“You fucking bastard.”

      
Koenig stepped far enough away so that he was out of range of another swing of Neumann’s arm.
 
He would say nothing.
 
He would endure whatever the Gestapo commander decided was punishment for Koenig’s delivering unwelcome news.
 
Neumann still had the power of life and death over him and even the unwelcome news Koenig had delivered hadn’t changed that.

      
“Whose idea was it and who decided to keep everything a secret from me?
 
Was it von Arnim or was it Guderian?
 
Damn it, it was probably both of them, wasn’t it, Koenig?”

      
Koenig said nothing.
 
He hoped that Neumann’s rage would play itself out fairly soon.
 
He could endure the pain with ease, but the shame of being slapped like a child by a cretin like Neumann was something he could only take for so long.
 
He had been one of the few privy to the change and that was only because he now worked so closely with General Guderian.
 
And, despite the physical punishment, he quietly enjoyed Neumann being put in his place.
 
The military would run the war, not the damned Gestapo.

      
Neumann sat behind his desk and breathed deeply.
 
“You just told me that the war would begin in a few hours, not another week as was planned.
 
Did your generals give any thought as to how I am to contact my people?
 
While some might be ready to move, most are probably enjoying a last Saturday night by getting drunk.”

      
Koenig agreed but said nothing like that.
 
“I would like to leave now.
 
Do you have a response to the message?”

      
Neumann smiled wickedly.
 
“Tell them that if this operation fails, they will be in Dachau or some other lovely place for the rest of their lives if they are lucky.
 
As for you, I can see that my discomfiture pleases you.
 
If you are lucky you will be hanged by your neck with piano wire around your throat and with your toes barely grazing the ground so that death is both agonizing and extended.
 
Now get the hell out of here.”

Colonel Downing had been wrong.
 
Instead of a quiet Saturday afternoon and evening, the various staffs had been quietly assembled in the Pentagon.
 
Something called Operation Lexington was about to commence.
 
Everyone was puzzled since nobody had ever heard of Operation Lexington.
 
It was nearly midnight when a white-faced General Truscott assembled them in a conference room.

      
“Gentlemen,” we now have serious reason to believe that the Germans will attack tonight and not next week.
 
OSS observers and others have seen the Luftwaffe preparing large numbers of planes for what looks like an assault.
 
They’ve never done that before and it can only mean that they are serious.
 
The Germans are also moving battalion sized units towards the Detroit area and larger units have begun moving towards the Buffalo-Niagara area.”

      
There was murmuring and swearing before Truscott silenced them.
 
“I know there is the very slight possibility that this is either some ill-conceived maneuver or even a test to see how we respond, but we don’t think do.
 
I’ve sent out an alert and I hope everyone’s notified in time to make a difference.
 
Of course, it’s Saturday night which means it’ll take some time to get everyone assembled.”

      
“You may have a little more time than you think, colonel,” said Air Force Major Fred Bryce, suddenly serious.
 
It was no times for jokes or banter.
 
“The Germans would be utter fools to attack before dawn.”

      
“Why?” asked Truscott.

      
Bryce laughed sardonically.
 
“Sir, one of the air force’s dirty little secrets is that most pilots can’t find their asses in the dark without a flashlight, and the Krauts would be flying blind over totally unfamiliar territory.
 
We know that some German pilots couldn’t find London at night, and that a number of British pilots couldn’t find Berlin.
 
Ergo, sir, they are simply not going to find a target without solid visual recognition.
 
They might have spies setting up radio beacons that will lead them to a city but they would still be a long ways from a specific target within that city.
 
Like the Japs did at Pearl Harbor, they will wait for first light.”

      
“Pilots will have to wait,” Grant said, “but not necessarily saboteurs.
 
They could be starting out right now.”

Private Louie Marks was cold and annoyed.
 
Only a month out of basic training, he was even more disillusioned with the army than he had been when he’d been drafted and sent to work with a bunch of idiots.
 
Worse, being so low on the military pecking order meant he had to pull guard duty on a Saturday night when all the other guys were in Buffalo having a good time.
 
His only consolation was that there weren’t all that many places in Buffalo where a guy could have a good time.
 

There was only a skeleton crew at the radar site, although they were alert and nervous.
 
Some message had come through saying they should be doubly careful.
 
Sure, Louie thought.
 
As if Germans were going to come running through the woods.
 
Still, it would be nice if there were more than a handful of men left to guard the radar site.

He and that handful of men were led - if that was the word, he snickered - by a very young second lieutenant named Norton.
 
Like Marks, Norton was alleged to be a radar expert and could read the squiggles on a screen that maybe meant something.
 
Louie was still trying to figure those things out.

      
Oh hark, he thought sarcastically, lights were coming down yonder road.
 
He signaled to the lieutenant and took his rifle off his shoulder.
 
Hey, he realized, the lead vehicle was a cop car and that made him feel a whole lot better.
 
Somebody was using his head and sending in reinforcements.
 
As it approached the gate that Louie was allegedly guarding, the cop car turned on its revolving red light just before stopping by the gate.