Jack Carter, in the outer office at SOE Headquarters, heard the red phone's distinctive sound and rushed in at once to answer it.
'Jack?' Munro said.
Thank God, sir, I've been as worried as hell. I got in from York and walked straight into a minefield. All hell broken loose at St Mary's Priory and the porter said you were there, sir. I mean, what the hell happened?'
'It's quite simple, Jack. A rather clever gentleman called Liam Devlin made fools of the lot of us and is at this very moment flying back to France with Colonel Kurt Steiner.'
'Shall I alert the RAF?' Carter asked.
Til take care of it. More important things to do. Number one, there's a house on Cable Wharf in Wapping owned by a man called Ryan. You'll find him and his niece there dead. I want a disposal team as soon as possible. Use that crematorium in North London.'
'Right, sir.'
'I also want a disposal team here, Jack. That's Shaw Place outside the village of Charbury in Romney Marsh. Come yourself. I'll wait for you.'
He put the phone down. No question of phoning the RAF of course. Schellenberg was right and that was that. He left the study and went to the front door. When he opened it the fog was as thick as ever. Nell whined and sat on her haunches, staring up at him.
Munro bent down and fondled her ears, 'Poor old girl,' he said. 'And poor old Devlin. I wish him luck.'
When Himmler and Berger were admitted to the Fuhrer's apartment, Adolf Hitler was sitting beside an enormous stone fireplace in which a log fire burned brightly. He had a file open on his knees which he continued to read as they stood there waiting. After a while he looked up, a slightly vacant look in his eyes.
'ReichsFuhrer?'
'You wished to see me and SturmbannFuhrer Berger.'
'Ah, yes.' Hitler closed the file and put it on a small table. 'The young man who has so brilliantly organized my security here. I'm impressed, ReichsFuhrer.' He stood and put a hand on Berger's shoulder. 'You've done well.'
Berger held himself stiff as a ramrod. 'My honour to serve, my Fuhrer.'
Hitler touched Berger's Iron Cross First Class with one finger. 'A brave soldier too, I see?' He turned to Himmler. 'ObersturmbannFuhrer would be more appropriate here, I think.'
Til take care of it, my Fuhrer,' Himmler told him.
'Good.' Hitler turned back to Berger and smiled indulgently. 'Now off you go. The ReichsFuhrer and I have things to discuss.'
Berger clicked his heels and raised his right arm. 'Heil Hitler,' he said, turned on his heel and went out.
Hitler returned to his chair and indicated the one opposite. 'Join me, ReichsFuhrer.'
'A privilege.'
Himmler sat down and Hitler said, 'Insomnia can be a blessing in disguise. It gives one extra time to ponder the really important things. This file, for example.' He picked it up. 'A joint report from Rommel and Canaris in which they try to persuade me that the Allies will attempt an invasion by way of Normandy. Nonsense, of course. Even Eisenhower couldn't be so foolish.'
'I agree, my Fuhrer.'
'No, it's obvious that the Pas de Calais will be the target, any idiot can see that.'
Himmler said carefully, 'And yet you still intend to confirm Rommel as Commander of Army Group B with full responsibility for the Atlantic Wall defences?'
'Why not?' Hitler said. 'A brilliant soldier, we all know that. He'll have to accept my decision in this matter with good grace and follow orders as will Canaris.'
'But will they, my Fuhrer?'
'Do you doubt their loyalty?' Hitler asked. 'Is that what you are implying?'
'What can I say, my Fuhrer? The Admiral has not always been as enthusiastic towards the cause of National Socialism as I would like. As for Rommel.' Himmler shrugged. 'The people's hero. Such popularity easily leads to arrogance.'
'Rommel will do as he is told,' Hitler said serenely. 'I am well aware, as are you, of the existence of those extremists in the Army who would destroy me if they could. I am also aware that it is a distinct possibility that Rommel is in sympathy with such aims. At the right moment there will be a noose waiting for all such traitors.'
'And richly deserved, my Fuhrer.'
Hitler got up and stood with his back to the fire. 'One must learn how to handle these people, Reichs-Fuhrer. That's why I insisted they join me for breakfast at seven. As you know they're staying in Rennes overnight. This means they must rise at a rather early hour to get here in time. I like to keep people like this slightly unbalanced. I find it pays.' 'Brilliant, my Fuhrer.' 'And before you go, remember one thing.' Hitler's face was very calm and Himmler stood up. 'Since I took power, how many attempts on my life? How many plots?'
Himmler for once was caught. Tm not sure.' 'At least sixteen,' Hitler said. 'And this argues divine intervention. The only logical explanation.' Himmler swallowed hard. 'Of course, my Fuhrer.' Hitler smiled benignly. 'Now be off with you. Try and get a little sleep and I'll see you at breakfast.' He turned to look down at the fire and Himmler left quickly.
The English Channel was fogged in for most of the way to Cap de la Hague and Asa took advantage of it, using the cover, making good time, finally turning in towards the French coast just after three.
He called Chernay over the radio. 'Chernay, Falcon here, what's the situation?'
In the radio room Schellenberg sprang from his chair and crossed to Leber. The Flight Sergeant said, 'We've had some clearance with wind but not enough. Ceiling zero one minute then it clears to maybe a hundred feet, then back again.'
'Is there anywhere else to go?' Asa demanded.
'Not round here. Cherbourg's totally closed in.'
Schellenberg took the mike. 'Asa, it's me. Are you all there?'
'We sure as hell are. Your Colonel Steiner, Devlin and me, only we don't seem to have any place to go.'
'What's your fuel position?'
'I figure I'm good for about forty-five minutes. What I'll do is stooge around for a while. Keep on the line and let me know the second there's any kind of improvement.'
Leber said, Til have the men light runway flares, General, it might help.'
Til take care of that,' Schellenberg told him. 'You stay on the radio,' and he hurried out.
After twenty minutes, Asa said, 'This is no good. Sit tight and I'll give it a shot.'
He took the Lysander down, his wheel spots on, and the fog enveloped him, just as it had done at Shaw Place. At six hundred feet he pulled the column back into his stomach and went up, coming out of the mist and fog at around a thousand.
The stars still glistened palely and what was left of the moon was low, dawn streaking the horizon. Asa called, 'It's hopeless. Suicide to try and land. I'd rather put her down in the sea,'
'The tide's out, Captain,' Leber answered.
'Is that a fact? How much beach do you get down there?'
'It runs for miles.'
'Then that's it. It's some sort of a chance anyway.'
Schellenberg's voice sounded. 'Are you sure, Asa?'
'The only thing I'm sure of, General, is that we don't have any choice. We'll see you or we won't. Over and out.'
Schellenberg dropped the mike and turned to Leber. 'Can we get down there?'
'Oh, yes, General, there's a road leading to an old slipway.'
'Good. Then let's get moving.'
'If I have to land in the sea this thing's not going to float for very long,' Asa said over his shoulder to Steiner and Devlin. 'There's a dinghy pack there behind you. The yellow thing. Get it out fast, pull the red tag and it inflates itself.'
Steiner smiled. 'You swim, of course, Mr Devlin.' Devlin smiled back. 'Some of the time.' Asa started down, easing the column forward, sweat on his face, all the way to five hundred and his altimeter kept on going. The Lysander bucked in a heavy gust of wind and they passed three hundred. Devlin cried, 'I saw something.' The fog seemed to open before them, as if a curtain was being pulled to each side, and there were great waves surging in from the Atlantic, half a mile of wet sand stretching towards the cliffs of Cap de la Hague. Asa heaved the column back, and the Lysander levelled out no more than fifty feet above the whitecaps that pounded into the surf on the shore.
Asa slammed the instrument panel with one hand. 'You beautiful, beautiful bitch. I love you,' he cried and turned into the wind to land.
The truck containing Schellenberg, Leber and several Luftwaffe mechanics had reached the slipway at the very moment the Lysander burst into view.
'He made it, General,' Leber cried. 'What a pilot,' and he ran forward waving, followed by his men.
Schellenberg felt totally drained. He lit a cigarette and waited as the Lysander taxied towards the end of the slipway. It came to a halt and Leber and his men cheered as Asa switched off the engine. Devlin and Steiner got out first and Asa followed, taking off his flying helmet and tossing it into the cockpit.
Leber said, 'Quite a job, Captain.'
Asa said, 'Treat her with care, Flight Sergeant. Only the best. She's earned it. Will she be safe here?'
'Oh, yes, the tide is on the turn, but it doesn't come up this far.'
'Fine. Do an engine check and you'll have to refuel by hand.'
'As you say, Captain.'
Schellenberg stood, waiting as Steiner and Devlin came towards him. He held out his hand to Steiner. 'Colonel, a pleasure to see you here.'
'General,' Steiner said.
Schellenberg turned to Devlin. 'As for you, my mad Irish friend, I still can't believe you're here.'
'Well, you know what I always say, Walter, me old son, all you have to do is live right.' Devlin grinned. 'Would you think there might be a bit of breakfast somewhere? I'm starved.'
They sat round the table in the little canteen drinking coffee. Schellenberg said, 'So, the Fuhrer arrived safely last night.'
'And Rommel and the Admiral?' Devlin asked.
'I've no idea where they've been staying but they will be joining him very soon now. Must be on their way.'
Steiner said, 'This plan of yours makes a wild kind of sense, but there is a considerable uncertainty.'
'You don't think the men of this parachute detachment will follow you?'
'Oh, no, I mean what happens to the three of you in the Chateau before we arrive.'
'Yes, well, we've no choice,' Schellenberg said. 'There's no other way.'
'Yes, I see that.'
There was a moment's silence and Schellenberg said, 'Arc you with me in this, Colonel, or not? There isn't much time.'
Steiner got up and moved to the window. It had started to rain heavily and he stared out for a moment and turned. 'I have little reason to like the Fuhrer and not just because of what happened to my father. I could say he's bad for everybody, a disaster for the human race, but for me, the most important thing is that he's bad for Germany. Having said that, Himmler as head of state would be infinitely worse. At least with the Fuhrer in charge one has the prospect of an end to this bloody war.' 'So you will join with me in this?' 'I don't think any of us have a choice.' Asa shrugged. 'What the hell, you can count me in.'
Devlin stood up and stretched. 'Right, well, let's get on with it,' and he opened the door and went out.
When Schellenberg went into the hut he and Asa had been using, Devlin had a foot on the bed, his trousers rolled up as he adjusted the Smith &c Wesson in the ankle holster.
'Your ace-in-the-hole, my friend?'
'And this.' Devlin took out the silenced Walther from his holdall and put it into his waistband at the rear. Then he took out the Luger. 'This is the one for the pocket. I doubt those SS guards will let us through the door armed, so best to have something to give them.'
'Do you think it will work?' Schellenberg asked.
'Uncertainty and from you at this stage, General?'
'Not really. You see the Allies have made one thing very clear. No negotiated peace. Total surrender. The last thing Himmler could afford.'
'Yes, there's a rope waiting for him all right one of these days.'
'And me also, perhaps. I am, after all, a general of the SS,' Schellenberg said.
'Don't worry, Walter.' Devlin smiled. 'If you end up in a prison cell I'll break you out and for free. Now let's get moving.'
Field Marshal Erwin Rommel and Admiral Canaris had left Rennes at five o'clock in a Mercedes limousine driven, for reasons of security, by Rommel's aide, a Major Carl Ritter. Two military police motorcyclists were their only escort and led the way as they twisted and turned through the narrow French lanes in the early morning gloom.
