North Reich (35 page)

      
The sergeant and his crews grinned in satisfaction.
 
They had taken a measure of revenge on the Americans for the deaths of their comrades.

      
“Well done, sergeant.”

      
The sergeant wiped his brow with a dirty rag.
 
“They arrived quicker than we thought, captain.”

      
“And they left quicker than they thought,” Koenig said with a laugh.
 
“The American commanding general in this area is a man named Patton.
 
He moves quickly, they say, and it looks like they may be right.”

      
“No matter,” said the sergeant.
 
“We’ll be ready for him.”

Chapter Twelve

FDR was shocked when he saw the damage to the Capitol and other places where bombs had exploded.
 
Even though it was slight, it was a grievous insult to the United States.
 
The craters in the parks and fields around the Capitol and the White House had left scars that were more emotional than logical.
 
The Pentagon had been hit as well, but he would not be crossing the Potomac to see that damage.
 
The Secret Service was nervous enough about this foray.
 
The president was riding in an armored limousine and was bracketed by soldiers in trucks and police on motorcycles.

Roosevelt pounded the seat in front of him in anger.
 
The United States had again been hit by a sneak attack, this time by the arrogant and murderous Germans.
 
Already a previously reluctant Congress was clamoring for war.
 
Gone totally was the reluctance to fight a two front war.
 
The attack by Germany was perceived as being in the same league as Pearl Harbor had been, perhaps even more so since the American mainland had been struck. Hawaii, after all, was just a territory and not one of the forty-eight states or even the District of Columbia.
 
This attack, therefore, was different.
 
The president hoped that his limited foreknowledge of the German plans would not become known until long after he was dead.

      
General Marshall and Admiral King were squeezed into the limo with the president.
 
Marshall glared at the black scar on the Capitol building.
 
“We estimate fifty bombers dropped a total of a hundred tons of bombs.
 
As far as bombing raids go, it is trivial.
 
The damage was minimal and only a half dozen people were killed and another score or so injured.”

      
“Much ado about nothing,” FDR said, “unless, of course you were one of the casualties, and that the attack started a war.”
 

He could not bring himself to say that it was a war he desperately wanted if the Nazi scourge was ever going to be halted before it took over the world.
 
Just yesterday, representatives of a Jewish group informed him that almost all the Jews in Europe had been murdered.
 
They said that the largest concentration of Jews in the world was in the United States.
 
It reinforced the fact that the Nazis were bloody monsters that had to be destroyed.

      
Marshall continued.
 
“We confirmed that fourteen of the bombers were shot down along with a dozen of their escorts who turned back well before Washington.
 
Obviously they didn’t have enough fuel.
 
We’ve even taken a handful of prisoners who appear to be cooperating and giving us a lot of useful information.”

      
Roosevelt was surprised that they would cooperate.
 
Marshall actually smiled.
 
“A couple of them were glad to be free of Hitler and the war, while some of the others wanted to brag about what they knew and how superior the Reich was.
 
One of my officers helped matters by convincing them that if they didn’t talk, they would be taken to a camp run by Jewish guards.
 
He added that the first thing that would happen to them would be their forced circumcision.”

      
Roosevelt laughed softly.
 
It felt good.
 
“And you’re certain no German forces remain on our side of the border?”

      
“There are no major German forces in the United States,” said Marshall, carefully choosing his words.
 
“The FBI is rounding up every German national or domestic Nazi they can find. We will doubtless pick up the innocent with the guilty, but we can straighten that out later.”

      
“What about their embassy?” the president asked.

      
“Cordoned off by troops, along with Italy’s,” Marshall answered.
 
Mussolini had followed Hitler’s lead and declared war on the U.S.
 
“We assume they’ve already done the same with our people in Berlin and Rome.
 
We will arrange to exchange them as soon as it is feasible.
 
What we don’t know, however, is how many embassy personnel escaped and how many other potential German saboteurs are still out there.
 
J. Edgar Hoover can say all he wants about the FBI rounding up hundreds of Germans, but the truth is that we won’t know who we might have missed until and if they strike.”

      
All three men remembered the declaration by the FBI’s Clyde Tolson that every German would be rounded up.
 
It had seemed to be absurd bragging at the time, and nothing had happened to change their minds.

      
“The navy’s not been inactive either,” King added proudly.
 
“We have four confirmed U-boat sinkings and the possibility of three more. We are planning a task force that will interdict shipping between Europe and Canada.
 
We will blockade the port of Halifax and, after eliminating the U-boats off our coast, work our way towards the east and Europe.

      
Roosevelt smiled.
 
“Excellent.
 
And I know how much it means to both of you to be able to finally hit the bastards.
 
Has Admiral Vian asked to take his warships out?”

      
“Yes.
 
He is a combative man.
 
I admire him even though he is a Brit.”

      
FDR nodded appreciatively.
 
“Let him prepare, but don’t let him go off half-cocked.
 
Hold him on a short leash for the time being.
 
Tomorrow, the secretary of state and I will be commencing a number of interesting conversations with countries like Brazil and Argentina and others in our hemisphere who have been smiling at Hitler.
 
We shall inform them that their best interests lie with the United States and not with Germany.
 
If they prove reluctant, they will pay with the lives of their sailors and the crews of their merchant ships.
 
All gloves are off, gentlemen.”

      
They drove past a crowd of soldiers and civilian onlookers who cheered and applauded.
 

      
Across the street, Heinrich Stahl watched in stunned disbelief as the President of the United States and his chief admiral and general drove slowly by him and no more than fifty feet away.
 
If he’d had a gun or, better, a hand grenade, he could have changed the course of history like Gavrilo Princep had done in 1914 when the Archduke of Austria’s car had suddenly appeared before him in Sarajevo.
 
Princep had murdered the archduke and set the world on the road to two bloody world wars.

      
Stahl, however, had left the embassy without any weapons.
 
If he’d been stopped, the fact that he was unarmed would likely mean nothing more than his forced return to the embassy or wherever the personnel were interned.
 
Carrying a weapon, however, might make the police more curious and he didn’t want that at this time.
 
Stahl had decided to use his network of operatives to help him disappear.
 
He could not help the Reich while behind bars.

      
He listened to people talking and tried to gauge their anger.
 
Curiously, they seemed more outraged by this minor attack on Washington than by the more major one at Pearl Harbor.
 
He determined that it did not bode well for Germany if the Americans could sustain their fury.
 
Therefore, he and the men who remained free from the FBI’s clutches had a job to do.

Sam Lambert and Mike Bradford watched as uniformed Toronto police cordoned off the German headquarters in Toronto.
 
They nodded amiably to those officers they recognized and some they didn’t.
 
Even though they were in plain clothes, they knew they stood out like a pair of sore thumbs.

      
“Why are we protecting the pricks?” Bradford snarled.
 
“We should be killing them and the fucking Black Shirts.”

      
“Can’t argue, but nothing’s going to happen until Ottawa decides whether or not we’re at war with Germany, America, or nobody.
 
Let’s face it.
 
Canada’s going to be a pawn in whatever happens, and we’re going to be front and center in the fighting.
 
At some point, U.S. troops are going to pour across the border and there will be killing right where we’re standing.”

      
Bradford didn’t argue with that assessment.
 
If the Yanks were serious about fighting Germany - and how could they not be? – it would entail a serious effort to expel the Germans, and that could leave Canadian cities in smoking ruins.

      
“Have you heard anything from our friends down south?”

      
Lambert shook his head.
 
There had been no contact with the OSS since the death of the agent called Sandman.
 
He thought that American operatives were working in the area, but they had not made contact either with him or the little thief, Tinker.
 
Maybe that would change with the United States officially at war with Hitler.

      
Several trucks pulled up and dozens of Black Shirts jumped out.
 
Lambert was mildly surprised to see that they were armed with guns.
 
Who the hell authorized that, he wondered.
 
Ottawa, probably.
 
Mackenzie King had made no pronouncement regarding Canada’s official role in the developing conflict except to say that all Canada hoped the fighting would end and that peace would prevail.
 
Fat, fucking chance, Lambert thought.
 
We’re in it up to our asses.

      
More Black Shirts arrived and passed through the police lines, forming their own cordon.
 
It was clear that German property would be protected by those Canadians who actively supported Germany.
 

      
“I wonder how our brothers feel now?” Bradford asked.
 

He was referring to those cops who either hated Jews or thought the Nazis had the right idea about how to run a country. He was confident that few had given thought to the possibility of fighting the U.S. Army in the streets of Toronto or American paratroopers in the fields outside the city.
 
Even the Black Shirts usually cocky grins seemed a little stressed and brittle. Had they signed on for a war, or had they just wanted to bully people, drink, and get laid?
 
Neither cop thought the Black Shirts were brave enough to fight.

Alicia hummed happily to herself as she was driven back to Camp Washington.
 
If the two soldiers up front had any idea why she was purring, they prudently kept it to themselves.
 
After driving to the Downing’s house and letting the dog out, she and Tom had cleaned the mud off her uniform.
 
Of course, that entailed her taking it off along with everything else she’d been wearing and he’d happily reciprocated.
 
Fortunately, the only real damage to her clothing was tears in her cotton stockings and she always carried a spare in her purse.
 

For three wonderful hours the two of them had gamboled about the house, enjoying and exploring each other’s bodies.
 
Her only regret was that she hadn’t brought her violin and been able to serenade Tom.
 
Next time, she assured herself.
 
She had already decided to keep a change of clothes at the Downing’s and one violin wouldn’t take up much space.
 
Besides, if she found herself with time on her hands and Tom wasn’t free, she could practice without annoying the other women who shared her quarters.
 
Missy had already told her it was all right, and the colonel did what he was told.

      
Alicia’s only question was whether she should tell her friend Rosemary about her adventures.
 
She decided not to.
 
Rosie was a friend, but Alicia could not take the chance that she was a gossip.
 
Still, she longed to tell someone other than Tom just how wonderful sex was with someone you love, and that included using ones lips and tongue on various parts of each other’s bodies that were usually off limits.
 
My, my, how far she had come.
 
Or fallen, she thought with another soft giggle.