“It worked,” Heisenberg said weakly. “An atomic bomb. I’ve done it.”
Skorzeny lurched to his feet. In every direction, thousands of people were milling in panic, wondering which way to run. Bodies littered the street and hundreds showed injuries of all kinds, many with horribly blackened skin. People with burns and peeling skin were running away from the explosion and the malevolent cloud expanding in all directions. Many staggered and fell, screaming through lipless mouths.
“It went off early,” Heisenberg said, providing utterly useless information. He wondered if he would get another Nobel for physics.
Skorzeny swore and ran into an apartment building, fighting his way against a human tide that wanted to leave it. His uniform was of no use against mindless panic and it took him several minutes to where he could see the Kremlin.
It wasn’t there. In its place was fire and ruin and that plume of black smoke still churning skyward. “We did it,” he chortled in German and then looked around. No one had heard him and it wouldn’t have mattered if they had.
Skorzeny then ran to the overturned bus. Several of the occupants were dead and the others badly hurt. He hated this part, but no one could be left behind to provide information to the Soviets. He pulled out his pistol and shot the survivors in the head.
Davidov came up. He seemed to have gotten his arm working. His face showed shock but then calmed. “I understand.”
“Good. Now let us get the damned car going and get us out of this town before somebody takes charge and closes the doors.”
It did occur to Skorzeny that it might be some time before somebody was found to take over the reins of Mother Russia.
CHAPTER 23
Truman was livid. “How the hell did the god-damned Nazis pull off a stunt like this?” he said into the speaker that connected him with General Leslie Groves in Alamogordo, New Mexico. “Didn’t all your scientists assure me that we were well ahead of the Nazis?”
Groves’ normally powerful voice came through clear but tinny. “Our scientists were clearly wrong. Oppenheimer and his pals are working on that now.”
“Wonderful. I assume everybody heard Goebbels’ announcement?”
The Reich Propaganda Minister had broadcast on the radio, gloating that a German secret weapon, an atomic bomb, had worked and destroyed Moscow and wiped out the leadership of the Soviet Union. He went on to say that the Reich had a number of atomic bombs in its arsenal and would use them to destroy London, Paris, New York, Washington, and God knows where else. In a twist of humor, Goebbels even said Germany would have an atomic bomb destroy Independence, Missouri, Truman’s hometown.
Truman clenched and unclenched his fists. He was the President. He had to maintain at least a semblance of his poise. “First, was it an atomic bomb?”
Groves answered. “No doubt about it, and other reports from neutral embassies broadcasting short wave are confirming the bomb’s destructive power. It went off either in or by the Kremlin and totally destroyed it and very probably killed everyone in it.”
“Finally,” Truman said wryly, “some good news. Can you confirm that lying Uncle Joe Stalin is well and truly dead?”
“We can’t confirm anything,” interrupted Assistant Secretary of State Acheson. He had just entered the room. “Admittedly, no one’s heard from him since the bomb, but he could be in hiding. God knows I would.”
“All right. Now, what about the other part, the threats to Allied cities?
There was a pause while Groves conversed with others in the background. “Sir, the consensus is that they don’t have any other bombs.”
“Ha!” Truman said, pounding the desk, “You fellas also said they didn’t have any in the first place, and that we were way ahead of everyone in the development of the bomb.”
Groves continued. “Sir, again, we were wrong. But we are virtually dead certain that they don’t have enough fissionable material to make any other bombs.”
“But you’re not a hundred percent certain are you?”
“Is ninety-nine percent enough, Mister President?” Groves responded.
Truman glowered and admitted it would have to do. “Now, how did they get that thing to Moscow? What kind of plane did they use?”
General Marshall had entered and took a seat across from the President. “It would be almost impossible for a German bomber to penetrate that far into Soviet air space and it would have been too big a risk to take. Sir, I think it was shipped in parts by either truck or train and assembled in Moscow by a very daring group of saboteurs and scientists. If I were to guess, I’d bet that Skorzeny had something to do with it.”
“And why didn’t we hear of this?” Truman asked. “We have Ultra decodings, don’t we?”
“We didn’t hear about it because the Germans didn’t say much,” Marshall said, “We had picked up something about an Operation Kremlin possibly involving Skorzeny, but that’s all we knew.”
“Did we warn the commies?”
Marshall shook his head. “We had nothing concrete to tell them and we were concerned about them realizing we were reading German codes. They might then get concerned about their own.”
Truman took a deep breath. “Can’t undo what’s been done. Now for the million dollar question-who the hell’s in charge over there in Mother Russia?”
Acheson smiled tightly. “Thanks to Stalin’s iron control, pun intended, perhaps nobody is, at least until his body is found, and that could take a while. It’s possible his body was obliterated completely, which will keep his fate unknown until someone with enough balls is willing to step forward and take up the reins. After all, whoever seizes power and then finds a resurrected Stalin confronting him would be a dead man. And, absent a body, that will be a possibility, however remote.”
“Is anybody helping the people of Moscow?” Truman asked. He had caught Acheson’s pun. Stalin meant steel in Russian.
Marshall replied. “Again, neutral sources say medical help from other districts is beginning to flow into the city. Much of Moscow is in flames. It’s a fire storm like what happened to Hamburg and it’s raging out of control. It could be days before it’s out. Estimates of dead and injured will run into the hundreds of thousands.”
Truman shook his head in disbelief at the scope of the bomb’s power. “Christ,” Truman said, “what about other countries developing a bomb? If the Nazis were first, who else is out there?”
Marshall answered. “First, the Brits merged their efforts with us, however reluctantly. Next the Japs understand the theory but don’t have the resources. The Germans obviously beat us, but, according to Groves, the scientists are convinced that they have no others for the foreseeable future. Although, obviously, if the genie is out of the bottle, other nations will accelerate their efforts and that does include Germany. Given enough time, they will make a second bomb.
“That only leaves the Soviets and we’re convinced they’ve been working on it. We have no idea how well they’re doing.”
“Is it possible that some of our secrets were stolen by the Germans?” the President asked.
Groves laughed harshly. “We’ve got a horde of FBI down here wondering the same thing and another horde on the way. Some of our foreign born and left of center scientists are going to go through the ringer. If there’s a traitor, Hoover’s boys will find him. Or her,” he added. Who said men had a monopoly on treason?
“All right,” Truman said thoughtfully. “Let’s assume Uncle Joe’s dead along with the hierarchy; once again, who’s in charge?”
Atcheson answered. “Until the dust settles, candidates behind Beria and Molotov would include senior politburo members such as Malenkov, Bulganin, Kosygin, Khruschev and a couple of others. Of course any or all of them might be under the rubble. If the Communist Party is fragmented I’ll put my money on the military to take charge, at least for the short term. Whether it’s going to be Zhukov or Konev or somebody else, I don’t know. Once again, any or all of them might have been in Moscow at the time of the bomb and be either dead or injured.”