“But can you do it?” Himmler insisted, his voice rising. “Can you get your army to the Bonn-Remagen area and attack through to the Rhine? Can your army isolate the Amis before they become too strong? Can you cut them off and defeat them and force them to surrender?”
Dietrich looked like a man who’d just been offered a cup of poison. His reserve army had several thousand superb tanks, but the infantry was suspect, even though Volkssturm units had been reinforced by the remnants of SS divisions culled from the Russian front when the Soviets had stood down.
Before Dietrich could answer, Rundstedt turned to Himmler. “You have three divisions of SS in Berlin doing little more than standing around with their thumbs up their asses. I submit that they should be attached to Field Marshal Dietrich’s army to help make up for losses and to stiffen the spine of the Volkssturm.”
“But those forces are to maintain security in Berlin,” Himmler said in what was almost a lament. Varner was shocked by the pain in Himmler’s voice.
“Reichsfuhrer,” Rundstedt said coldly. “If the Reserve Army is defeated, then there will be no need for security in Berlin as the Reich will have been destroyed and we will all be fugitives. Berlin is not now directly threatened and won’t be if we win. If we lose, it won’t much matter. You have garrison troops, remnants of Luftwaffe units, Volkssturm, and even some naval units who can be used to secure the city. Three full divisions of SS troops could turn the tide of battle.”
“I could use them,” Dietrich said so softly that Varner almost felt sorry for the man.
“Then take them,” Himmler snapped, “and for God’s sake, win with them.”
Jessica was slumped over her desk in near despair. The rumbling sounds of battle could be heard in the distance and all she could think of was Jack. Was he safe? Was he involved at all in the battle? She thought she would be ill. Occasionally, thoughts of Jeb and Levin and the others she’d met intruded. She’d never realized how awful it was to have loved ones in harm’s way. She didn’t think she had the strength to go on, but what choice did she have? How did wives and mothers do it back home while awaiting news? The answer was simple-they endured their agony because they had to. There was no other choice.
At least there were no people wanting news of loved ones waiting for her to tell them that there was nothing she could say. With the battle raging, everybody seemed to have other things to do. It was as if everyone understood that nothing was going to be done until the fighting ceased.
The door to her office opened and Hilda came in, smiled tentatively, and took a seat. She took a deep breath. “I’m pregnant.”
“I assume you’re going to tell me Jeb’s the father.”
“Yes, and I will also tell you we’re married. A minister outside of Rheinbach performed the ceremony after I found out. The American army won’t like it, but there’s nothing they can do.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
Hilda started to shake. “I hoped you would congratulate us. I know what you think, that I’m an opportunist whore who hunted for an American to get me out of here, and that’s not true. Jeb and I love each other. And I didn’t chase him. He came up to me on the street and introduced himself.”
Hilda had started to cry. So much for Teutonic reserve, Jessica thought. She handed the young woman a Kleenex from the box on her desk.
“Jessica, once upon a time I was a devoted little Nazi. I told you that. We were so happy when Hitler stopped the civil war and the economic disasters, and brought pride to being a German. We were dismayed when he had us invade Poland and France, but we felt it was all right if Hitler said it was necessary. I had a good friend, a lover, who was killed in Poland. I had a brother who was killed in France. We grieved but thought Hitler would soon stop and all would be better, even though we would have paid a terrible price. But then he invaded Russia and later declared war on the United States and my family and I realized it would never stop until Hitler died. Now he’s dead and the fighting still goes on. Will it ever stop?”
There was nothing Jessica could say. She stood up and walked around the desk. Hilda stood and the two women embraced.
Colonel Tom Granville took the slip of paper from the solemn-faced young lieutenant who saluted and left as quickly as he could. Jeez, thought Granville, do I have that nasty a reputation? Or is it Beetle Smith?
He read the message, smiled, and walked into Smith’s office. The general looked up and grimaced. “Hitler still dead?”
“Yes.”
“Then why the hell are you bothering me?”
“Take a look at this, sir,” Granville said as he held out the note.
Smith read quickly. “How reliable is your source?”
“Very.”
Granville reminded Smith that he had been operating his own intelligence service and getting information from behind the German lines from a number of sources. Some were individuals who were heartily sick of the war and the brutality of the Nazi system, while others were simply hoping to save their asses if the Americans won, all the while hoping their betrayals would go undiscovered by the Gestapo. They were walking a fine line and one stumble could mean a horrible death.
He didn’t care about their motives, only that their information was accurate.
“Refresh me,” said Smith. “Who the hell is he?”
“His code-name is Crow, and he picked it out himself. Easier to remember that way. He’s a field grade German officer whose information heretofore had been limited to tactical issues such as unit locations, defensive strengths and location, and similar stuff. This is the first time he’s provided anything even remotely this big.”
“Do you know his real name?”
“Yes.”
“Will you tell me?”
Tom smiled tightly. “When the war’s over, General.”
“Prick,” Smith said amiably. He fully understood that he didn’t have a need to know. “So this Crow makes contact with someone else who is higher up in the Nazi hierarchy who decides to let Crow in on a very important secret right out of the blue.”
“There may be more to it than that. I suspect a long-standing personal relationship, but we won’t know until later, if at all.”
The general stroked his chin. “So Crow is reliable and, therefore, you believe this new character he code-named Cardinal is on the up and up as well.”
“Sir, I believe Crow and Crow believes Cardinal. Crow explains how Cardinal got the information and it seems plausible.”
“A lot of people said the Japs wouldn’t attack Pearl Harbor and everyone thought that was plausible, too. Tom, do you believe in this enough to forward it up to Ike and then across the water to Marshall and Truman?”
“Absolutely.”
“Well then,” said Smith, “let’s do just that.”
Truman entered the Map Room, took a seat and lit up a cigarette. “What is it this time, gentlemen, good news or bad news?”
“A little bit of both is in order,” said General Marshall. “First, we have confirmed that the Nazis only had one bomb and do not have the resources to build another. This has come from Ultra intercepts as well as reports from people on the ground who have spoken to key members of Himmler’s staff. They also say that neither Heisenberg nor Skorzeny has yet emerged from Russia and are probably dead.”
“No loss,” Truman said. “Too bad Himmler’s not dead as well. Now, what about Russia?”
Secretary of State Stettinius responded. “It does appear that Marshal Zhukov has taken over, at least temporarily. He’s announced that a new prime minister will be elected shortly. However, ‘temporarily’ under those circumstances could stretch out into decades. Some of my analysts think Zhukov could be nominated and thus become the permanent head of state.”