Chapter 232
“Your man has sent a message via courier, he said that the Germans requested another meeting. He his waiting for orders in our Embassy in Switzerland.”
The Speaker was the head of the SIS, Sir Stewart Graham Menzies.
Seated around the same table somewhere in Whitehall were the Foreign Secretary who doubled as Deputy PM, Rear Admiral Mountbatten as head of the Special Operations Executive and the head of the GCHQ at Bletchley.
Mountbatten spoke next.
“Well, if the Spanish Wireless is to be believed, then the Germans were right. My Officer has also stated that the bit about Franco was merely meant to wet our appetites. The Germans must know that we don't give a toss either way as long as the Dons stay neutral.”
Eden lit a smoke and said: “It's far too early to tell what's going to happen, there's no shortage of groups that could claim responsibility or at the very least try and take advantage of it. The Monarchists and the Republican remnant are only the two most prominent. The Falangists and the Carlists are liable to form their own factions and break away from Franco's Coalition too, and that's nothing to say about the Communists and god knows how many local separatist movements. It's more than likely that whoever comes to power in Madrid will blame it on the Catalonians, the Communists and us, in that order.”
“So what will we do about it then?” asked Menzies. He had his own plans, and he wanted to know what the position of the Government was.
“To be honest, it would be best if we did nothing at all. I've spoken to the PM, and he agrees with me. There isn't anything to be gained by meddling in Spain. They'd be a liability for whatever side they'd join, and our...'source' within Germany has told us that the Germans and the Soviets know as much. Apparently they have only done this because the paperhanger was fed up with Franco's outrageous demands for continued axis-friendly neutrality. Their aim was to put someone into the seat who would be less annoying and more receptive to what he's being told from Berlin. That'll work out well.”
Menzies nodded, agreeing with the PM and the Foreign Secretary on that matter.
“I have consulted with my deputies on that matter,” Menzies said referring to the heads of MI5 and MI6, “and they say that Spain is far too unstable to predict who will get to power and how they will react to any overtures made by us or by the enemy.”
He paused for dramatic effect and continued after a few moments,
“That said, I think we can leave this part of the matter to the Foreign Office, because our own covert networks in Spain have been as thoroughly destroyed as those we had on the rest of the continent before the war. More important is in the opinion of the SIS that a top-level man in the Abwehr seeks out a known if former SIS Officer, and then requests a second meeting. Now, there are more than a few possible reasons why they want contact, and I am not sure if I like any of them, but there is potentially a lot to be gained from talking to them.”
Eden decided that now was time to ask a question that had been raised in the Cabinet meeting this morning by one of the more naïve junior ministers.
“C, please understand that this isn't my own question, but rather one that has been officially posted to the Government by one of the more... inexperienced juniors.”
A well known feeling of dread rose within the others around the table.
“There have been rumours that there is a group of high-ranking Officers who might try to remove Hitler from power and who would be receptive to a negotiated peace.”
Menzies snorted.
“With all due respect to the minister, but that is pure and utter bollocks. Even if such a group existed, do you really think the SS, the Nazi elements within the Wehrmacht and most of all the Soviets would just stand idly by? And you have heard, there is no chance at all for a negotiated peace at this manner that doesn't reduce Germany to the borders of 1930.”
Confidence in victory was one thing that the British had, but many knew that if the war stalemated again as it had last winter and the Allies found themselves unable to break the stalemate then a negotiated settlement was probably inevitable.
“So what do you want me to tell him?” asked Mountbatten.
“Tell him to keep us in the loop and use his own judgement.”
Unknown to them on a field in southern Germany something was going on that would very soon have a direct impact on the lives of not only Ian Fleming and Felix Leiter, but also a great many other Allied and Axis men and women.
Four men, one of them clearly middle aged, were driving a car down the small path that ran between the fields, constantly on the lookout for
Type 82s that followed them and were filled with very, very angry SS men. At the moment they had no reason to fear them really, but as officially the men in Question were on their way to an inspection tour in occupied Poland and not waiting to board a Ju-52 flown at a small
provincial airport flown by a few reliable pilots that would take them to Field Marshal Rommel's Headquarters in near Marseilles.
The heavy Mercedes wasn't made for this kind of road, but the middle-aged man had insisted on taking backroads so that as few people as possible could see where they where going.
They hadn't spoken almost since leaving Berlin which was hardly surprising given what they had done and what they were about to do. Treason was even more of a crime in Germany than it was in the Democracies and would have been even without the Nazi dictatorship. The oath any German soldier swore was something that was almost as sacred to them and these men had decided to act against it. They were almost a complete diorama of the German Military, at least one of them was from each of the services, and what united them was the reason why thy had committed treason. The airfield lay in the middle of the fields where Cabbage was grown and was a new one, one that was pretty unknown for which reason it was chosen.
When they reached it, the three BMW radial engines were already running and the plane was almost ready to take off. Since it was already dark none of the few men stationed at the airport were aware who it was that got into the unscheduled flight. The plane taxied from the hangar and took off within two minutes.
For the next hours the players on both sides that would eventually meet were making their way to the meeting point. In Switzerland Ian was just then waking up. When he had agreed to the second meeting in a small border town, he had sensed that he would need his sleep. He had called Felix up to Switzerland, leaving the shop in the capable hands of Major Lennox since nothing special was on the books anyway.
“Jesus Christ, I'd give my right leg for a packet of Wrigleys. F**king Reds.”
“Huh?” Felix was having more and more of these moments lately.
“Chewing gum, best brand on the planet. I've heard that the company now makes rubber insulations for their tanks.”
“Waste that.”
Ian didn't like Chewing Gum, but he knew Felix well enough that this time of the year his homesickness was the worst for some reason. The best he could do when Felix was like that was to simply support him.
“Come on, mate. Let's do our bit for King and Country.”
The two of them had changed clothes, requisitioned a car from the pool and set out.
Ian knew that Felix hated the Germans with a passion, and he was not looking forward to having to keep Felix from going on the throat of whomever they were meeting. Felix knew who Oberst Steiner was and that they were going to meet him, and he was a professional enough to know when to hold back, which was evidenced by him and Ian recently being cleared for ULTRA. This precluded them from going behind enemy lines again, but it showed both of them that they were trusted.
The meeting point was a very small hamlet in the mountains near the French border, and unlike last time they were the ones to be late. When Ian and Felix stepped into the farmhouse at the far end of the village, a mere fifty to sixty yards from the border, they were again met by Oberst Steiner. The German was wearing his Paratrooper Uniform, strangely enough, and when Felix saw this, a look of pure and unadulterated hatred flashed across his face. He caught himself though when Steiner began to speak.
“So you didn't come alone after all, Commander?”
“You know me, shared misery is half misery, it might be a trap after all.”
With that Ian lovingly padded the pocket in which he was carrying his old favourite Webley that he still preferred over the FN.
“You British are a weird bunch.”
“Not to step on your toes, mate, but why the buggery are we here?” Felix asked.
Ian filed that away to talk about later, and looked at Steiner.
“Well, now that you know my principals are serious there is something we want from you in return.”
“The Crown Jewels? The key to No.10?” Felix quipped, but at least he stopped when the men sat on the chairs that were standing around a table in the middle of the room.
Steiner decided to ignore the thinly veiled insults of the younger man and instead addressed himself to Ian.
“What we would like you to do is simple, and I was told to apologize in advance for the suddenness, but there was little enough time to set things up as it is.”
A well known feeling of dread began to rise inside Ian's gut even as he simply nodded and replied with a “Go on.”
“As you are aware there are some that are less than pleased with the direction our country has been moving into, and that was all well and fine.”
“Forgive me Colonel, but what does that have to do with us?”
Steiner just looked at the two British as if he were trying to decide if he should bother telling them what was coming next. He sighed, as there was nothing else he could do.
“The point is that those in power have found out not only that such a group exists they also know who we are and I now wa...no, that's not correct, beg of you to give two of the most important ones asylum until after the war.”
That was something neither Ian nor Felix has expected. Felix was about to say something, but his 'do we look like a hotel to you' died on his tongue when he saw Ian's face, so instead he said nothing.
“What would be in it for us?” Ian asked. “After all, there are quite a few things that can go wrong, and my superior would whack me on the head with a rolling pin if I were to get killed.”
Steiner was unaware that Ian was married, the Abwehr had somehow missed that and a promotion along with the DSO, and so he simply put that remark down to the weird British sense of humour.
“That you must ask them yourself, even though one of them has helped you before.”
That got Ian's attention. “I see...”
He looked at Felix who was just nodding and leaning against the back of his chair.
“Then Colonel, tell him that this is a quid pro quo even before he steps over the border.”
Steiner had apparently been briefed to expect something like this, because he replied in an instant.
“He could help you to try and crack the German Army and Naval Codes, and he is waiting on the other side of the border. They will cross into Switzerland whatever you do, it only depends on you where they will go after that.”
Ian had to stop himself from laughing. The Germans were quite obviously unaware of ULTRA and that the Enigma had been broken by the Polish Cypher Bureau even before the war and that thanks to the captured Weather Codebook from a German U-Boat Bletchley was reading the German mail already and had done so for years. Even Ian's ULTRA clearance didn't allow him to know the particulars and to be honest he wasn't too interested in them anyway, but he knew that it was done and that was the main point. At the very least this would allow the debriefing Officer to verify the sincerity of the Germans.
“My other bosses might tear me a new one for this, but yes, I can provisionally agree.”
Without another word Steiner rose to his feet.
“Follow me then. Time is limited, the Guard could only be persuaded to stay away for an hour.”
Ian placed his hand in the pocket where his gun was placed and knew without looking that Felix was doing the same. Outside he had Felix go and fetch the car while he followed Steiner to the border. The house they had been in was less than half a mile from the border and so it took them only a few minutes to walk the distance.
“Just who is it?” Ian asked, allowing his curiosity to get the better of him.
“You will see.”
The border post was one of the smaller ones, and it appeared that both sides didn't really bother to watch it with more than a man or two on each side, mainly because the healthy smuggling going on between Occupied France and Switzerland couldn't be stopped that way anyhow and the main roads that connected this part of the country with the bigger cities ran elsewhere. As they walked past it, Ian glanced inside and could see two members of the Swiss Border and Customs Service reading the paper and drinking probably smuggled Congnac, so from there no interference was to be expected. The border was marked on the road with a few stones at the side and a white line across it, and on the other side a large black Mercedes as used by high-ranking German officials was waiting.
Ian waited on the Swiss side of the border while Steiner walked over to the car to tell those inside that they would not be turned back, and while he did so, Ian only hoped that what he was doing wouldn't prompt either his wife or his boss to rip off his head even though he was sure that he would prefer the latter if he had to choose between the two, after all Mountbatten couldn't attack him with The Look.
Steiner walked back to where Ian was waiting and just said: “Take care of them.”
With that he turned around to walk back into France, but then Ian could hear shouting on the French side and before his rusty German kicked in and he could deduce just what they were yelling several shots were fired, and as the Mercedes picked up speed, a long burst from an MP 40 was fired down the road, buzzing uncomfortably close to Ian who was already drawing his Webley and diving for cover. As he watched was unfolding before him he registered the squealing brakes of his own car and Felix diving behind the pile of stones on the other side of the road.
“We joining in?”
“Naa. No point when we can't see the buggers.”
Felix nodded, but still cocked his pistol and pulled back the safety catch. The shooting stopped as soon the car had crossed the border, but the Mercedes still showed no intention to stop and as it hurtled past the Bentley Ian and Felix had been driving and came to a halt at a small hut. Ian had Felix restart their own car and walked over to the Mercedes where he could see that the back was peppered with bulletholes and knocked on the left rear window with the butt of his revolver. The door opened and when he saw just who was stepping out, holding his hand on a wound in his other arm but still having a rather commanding presence Ian was glad that he had been taught good self control and that the only thing that slipped past him was only:
“Well bugger me sideways, that's a surprise.”
[Notes: Remember, there is no National Government. The Tories handily won the last General Election which has lead to them having a comfortable majority. Since one is at war, and even at war with the Soviets, Labour is lying low and not obstructing the war effort in any way. This arrangement might change though.]
I wish to know how the aircraft industry will cope w/out all that new-fangled American stuff. :rofl:
