“But why so soon?”
“Himmler is concerned that the Reds are beginning to move their armies back into position and will attack Germany at the height of the battle for the Rhine. Your bomb is the only way we can prevent such a stab in the back from the Bolsheviks from happening. Oh yes, you will leave notes behind so that the weapon can be reconstructed should that prove desirable.”
“I don’t speak Russian,” Heisenberg said, grasping at straws.
“You won’t have to. Others will take part in any conversations necessary. If anybody does question your and the others’ presence, they will be told that you are captured German scientists, which is true in a way, isn’t it?”
“But if I am captured, the Russians will be able to extract all our nuclear secrets from me.”
Skorzeny shook his head. The poor academic fool didn’t understand. “Doctor, you will not be captured. I will be right there with you and, should that unhappy event seem likely, I will personally blow your brains out.”
Heisenberg understood and nodded solemnly. A quick and merciful death would be better than an eternity in the hands of the Russians. Or the Gestapo, for that matter. “And what about my family, especially if I should fail?”
“They are of no interest to us. They will be left alone. I am a soldier and I kill Germany’s enemies, Doctor, I am not a murderer.”
Heisenberg managed a small smile. “And tell me, Colonel, where will you be when the bomb goes off in the heart of Moscow?”
“And just what the fuck is this?” Sergeant Tyree Walls asked. “It looks like an abortion on wheels.”
Normally, Walls wouldn’t have spoken like that to a white man, but this sergeant at a huge motor pool outside the channel city of Cherbourg seemed to be an okay kind of guy.
Sergeant Copland laughed. “What’s the matter? You don’t recognize a General Motors truck?”
Walls returned the laugh. “I recall seeing a picture of something called a platypus, Copland, and this is just like it, neither fish nor fowl.”
Walls read the poop sheet he’d been given. It was called a DUKW and, surprise, pronounced Duck. It was built by the Yellow Truck Division of General Motors on top of a standard 6X6 cab-over chassis. It weighed six and a half tons and could go fifty miles an hour on the ground and, real surprise, six in water. The damn thing was a boat. Now he knew where he’d seen the thing-in newsreels of the Normandy landings.
So what the hell was he doing looking at an amphibious machine that could go both in water and on land?
Oh shit-The Rhine.
Copland read his mind. “That’s right, Sergeant, you and a whole bunch of others are going to be driving these abortions across the Rhine and right into the heart of Germany.”
“I thought the navy drove ships.”
“Small things like this are called boats, not ships, and I understand the navy isn’t at all interested in providing drivers for these.”
“I see where these things can have machine guns mounted. Can I have one? Might not hit anything, but it’d feel good.”
“I can almost guarantee it.”
Walls shook his head. He knew when he’d been fucked. “Just out of curiosity, Sergeant Copland, where the hell will you be when I’m cruising the Rhine?”
“Maybe right alongside you, Sergeant Walls. I’ll be skippering one of these things as well.”
Tyree thought that was better. He stuck out his hand which the white sergeant took. “Sergeant Copland, I’m proud to be a member of the U.S. Army’s navy.”
Morgan could barely conceal his elation. Jessica would be in Rheinbach, only a dozen or so miles away. Now all he had to do was find a way to get to Rheinbach without getting court-martialed.
He nobly considered that he didn’t want much time with her and quickly discarded that ridiculous notion. He wanted a lifetime with her. However, he would settle for even just a few minutes.
In the quick phone call she’d made, she said that she had volunteered to check out the possibly deplorable refugee situation at a camp outside Rheinbach and that she hoped that he would, somehow, manage to get there. Damn. What the hell to do now?
He walked to where Jeb’s quarters were. Like a number of enterprising GI’s of all ranks, Jeb had managed to get a tent all to himself, whereas Jack was still sharing with Levin.
A piece of wood by the flap served as a knocker. Jack knocked, announced himself, and walked in. “Oh shit,” he said.
A pretty young blonde sat up in Jeb’s cot. “Hello,” she said with a radiant smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Jeb has said a lot of nice things about you.”
She was naked and Jeb was asleep beside her. The cot looked too small for two people, but neither seemed to mind. “I’m Hilda Brunner and I’ll wake him for you,” she continued in heavily accented English.
Hilda wrapped an army blanket around her and, after a few not so gentle shoves, Jeb woke up and yawned. “I see you’ve met Hilda. Hilda, this is Jack.”
Hilda beamed again. “Hello.” The army blanket had opened and Jack was acutely aware that she was a true natural blonde with an incredibly lean and slender body.
“Jeb, I have to ask, how old is she?”
“Sixteen.”
“Jesus, that would be illegal in some states.”
“Yeah, but not in Germany. Now you’re going to ask what essential service she provides to make it legal according to the new fraternization rules. It’s simple, she raises my morale.”
Hilda patted Jeb on the cheek. “That’s not all I raise.”
Jeb grinned and Jack couldn’t help but laugh. “Jack, if you hadn’t taken an oath of celibacy in order to impress my cousin, there are a number of wonderful German women who’d love to meet you, including some of Hilda’s relatives. And, in case you haven’t noticed, Hilda speaks English, which means our relationship isn’t all carnal.”
Hilda giggled. “It isn’t?”
“Now, Jack, what the hell is so important that you have to interrupt my afternoon siesta? I am just totally exhausted. Hilda is one hell of an athlete.”
Jack explained the situation with Jessica going to Rheinbach as part of a Red Cross investigation of the refugee camp.
Carter patted Hilda on her delightful rump. “Rheinbach. Isn’t that near where you live?”
“Yes. It’s just a little place and wasn’t badly bombed. My family still owns businesses there.”
“And isn’t one of them a hotel?”
“Ah, yes,” she said, catching on quickly. “It’s a small but lovely place on the Hauptstrasse, which is the town’s main street. You will give me dates and I will ensure that Captain Morgan and his lover get the best of rooms and service.”
When Jack started to protest that they weren’t lovers yet, Jeb turned on him. “Damn it, my lovely cousin invited you to meet her in the German town and you’re not going to have a place to take her if she’s willing? How dumb are you? No, wait, we already know that. She’s going to Rheinbach to meet you, Hilda’s getting the rooms, and all you and I have to do is figure out a way to get to Rheinbach at the right time.”
“You mean you’re okay with my getting intense with your cousin?”
“My cousin’s free, white, and over twenty-one. She can do whatever she wants with whoever she wishes, and yes, I do wish she’d had an affair with me, but that didn’t happen and it ain’t gonna happen since she’s met you and is settling for less than she should. Look, we’re in a period of what was once called ‘sitzkrieg’ or phony war, but we all know it’s not going to last forever. When the weather turns nice all goddamn hell is going to break loose and a lot of us won’t be around for next Christmas. For God’s sake, take life when and how you can.”
Hilda sat back down on the cot and pulled Jeb’s hand down to her breast. “Don’t forget, you have me.”
“Right,” Jeb said, calming down. “Hilda will make the arrangements and, if nothing happens, so be it. If it does work out then you’ll have a night or two to remember for the rest of your lives. And, with the invasion coming on, that might not be all that long. Live while you can, Jacko.”