FDR looked thoughtful. “Ten divisions will not be enough to conquer Canada, will it?”
Marshall stifled a grimace. How many times had they been over this point? The president had been very forgetful lately. The stress of his office must be getting to him. He hoped it wasn’t some other health-related problem. The nation needed FDR’s calming strength even though he sometimes drove Marshall crazy.
“No sir, but it should be more than enough to stifle a large German raid. We will need at least one more army group to properly invade and conquer Canada when the time comes. Those troops will begin to arrive as soon as war is declared.”
This point did not make the president happy. He’d gone to congress after the Japanese sneak attack on Pearl Harbor and rallied a nation. But would he be able to do it a second time? Wouldn’t the public wonder just how he could have been hoodwinked again? Yes, he’d get his war declared, but his reputation might just wind up in tatters if it was found out that he knew that the Germans would attack on April second and did nothing to head it off.
The expansion of the army in the American northeast would have one pleasant side effect. Dwight Eisenhower would soon be in command of the largest American army in the nation’s history, far eclipsing that commanded in the Pacific by the very annoying Douglas MacArthur. He wondered if MacArthur might want to return stateside and take over Ike’s forces. FDR decided that he would not allow that to happen. MacArthur was wrapping up the liberation of the Philippines. He’d declared victory even though more than fifty thousand Japanese soldiers were still active in the islands. No, he did not want MacArthur taking over and proclaiming he’d won with a German army still on North American soil.
Captain Heinrich Stahl waited nervously and wished he was back in the German embassy. The park bench was cold and damp, and he was uncomfortable with the White House in view across the street. It was a reminder that the United States was an undeclared enemy of Germany and he might soon be interned as a prisoner for a very long while. He thought that people were watching him and that police and Secret Service would soon run out and arrest him. They wouldn’t, of course. It was just his imagination running wild. And, even if he was questioned, he still had diplomatic immunity.
That it was raining lightly didn’t improve his mood. At least he hadn’t had to sit there all day to ensure that this particular bench was available for this rendezvous. He’d given that dubious honor to a very junior staffer who was now in the embassy trying to warm up with some Schnapps. Stahl was almost certain the meeting would be a waste of time, but almost certain was not absolutely certain.
He shivered and wondered how many FBI agents were watching him. He turned as a well-dressed and educated looking middle-aged man carrying a bag lunch approached cautiously. “May I sit here?” he said. “It’s a wonderful view of the White House.”
“Of course, it’s as pretty as a postcard.”
The banal dialog identified each to the other. “As I stated in my letter, I have a proposition for you,” the older man said after he settled himself and looked around.
They all do, Stahl thought. “First, who are you and why should I listen to you?”
The poor fool looked surprised and Stahl couldn’t help but be amazed at the man’s naivete. Didn’t he expect to be interrogated? Of course he already knew who the man was, but Stahl would never let on.
“Sir, I am a scientist working for an intelligence gathering operation outside Washington in a place called Camp Washington. We have many secrets and I would like to trade a very important one for a way out of the United States.”
Stahl decided to be firm. Despite an arrogant and calm facade, the man’s hands were shaking. He was so frightened that he might be bullied into giving away more information than he’d planned.
“Why?”
“I am in trouble, woman trouble. A young lady, an Italian no less, is going to claim that I am the father of her bastard child and that will destroy my reputation as a scientist at Camp Washington, as well as gravely angering my wife. She can be very vile at times. My life here will have no purpose or meaning; therefore, I would like to return to Europe.”
Stahl had a hard time not laughing. The sanctimonious old fart had used his cock instead of his brain. “Are you the child’s father?”
“I don’t believe that’s important,” the man said stiffly, confirming the fact that he was.
“Then what’s your name?”
“Langford Morris, Ph.D., and I’ve been working on breaking Germany’s codes.”
Another one, Stahl thought. Perhaps he’ll also claim to have invented an anti-gravity machine. “I presume you’re going to tell me that German codes have been compromised, broken, and that the Americans know all our secrets.”
“I am. I will even tell you that the Americans know that you will attack on April second.”
“First of all, Dr. Langford, far too many people suspect that April second will be the day of the attack, which means that it isn’t that much of a secret. It is entirely likely that the Americans have already gotten the information and are trying to decide if it is true. Since they appear to have done nothing about it, there is little likelihood that they believe their good fortune, if indeed it is true.”
Stahl stood and laughed harshly. “And as to your laughable assertion that the Americans have broken our codes, let me assure you that they have not. Our codes have so many millions of variables that they cannot be deciphered by our enemies, as you doubtless know, although I am also certain that they are trying very hard to do so. Let them. They will accomplish nothing other than to waste their time.”
Langford looked at Stahl in disbelief. “I assure you I am telling the truth.”
“Doctor, you are a liar and a fraud. I am not going to go to any effort to get you out of the United States so you can escape your responsibilities. Good day, sir.”
Stahl walked briskly back to his car and the short drive to the embassy. It was a shame he had to suffer fools, but it was part of the job. With Langford put in his place, Stahl was content that he could spend the rest of his time preparing for war.
Across the park and sitting cozily on another bench across from Stahl and Langford, Captain Art Baldwin of the Pentagon Provost Marshal’s office sat with Alicia Cutter. Even though she’d only seen him a couple of times, her job was to positively identify Langford. Although she didn’t think Langford would have recognized her, she covered her blond hair with a dark wig and covered it all with a scarf. Never take a chance, Baldwin had said and she agreed. His arm was around her shoulders and her head rested on his. To the world they were just another pair of lovers finding a private moment.
Instead, they were listening to the conversation between Stahl and Langford that was being broadcast from a microphone under the bench the two men occupied. Their conversation was being transcribed on a wire recorder, and a couple of stenographers were taking down the dialog.
“I think we can get up now,” Alicia said. Baldwin was married but it seemed that he was enjoying the situation a little more than was necessary. He was cute, but not as cute as Tom Grant.
“Darn,” Baldwin said with an unrepentant grin.
“Now tell me again why we didn’t involve the FBI.”
“Because it’s an army problem and there will be an army solution. Also, what was being discussed is top secret and the FBI has a tendency to leak things to the press, especially if it makes the bureau look good. The last thing we need is for some cheesy columnist like Walter Winchell telling the world that we’re trying to break Germany’s sacred codes.”