“I think we’ve both waited too long for this,” she said, “and you’re right, we could all be dead tomorrow.”
“Or we could be married next week,” he said as his hands caressed the moist softness between her thighs. She giggled softly and returned the favor, stroking him.
When he entered her, she bit his shoulder to keep from crying out and awakening the Downings. It wouldn’t have mattered. Both the colonel and Missy were awake and laughing softly. Missy had checked and seen that Alicia’s door was open.
“How many times do you think they’ll do it tonight?” Missy asked. There had been no MPs checking IDs and there was no real reason for Tom to go to the office in the morning. The retirement party had been a complete bore and they’d decided on this strategy while driving home.
“I’d say eight or ten. Just like our first night.”
“Dreamer,” she said as her hand slid down his belly. “Do you think you could manage once tonight before you go off to war in the morning?”
The stinging blow landed on Koenig’s face with startling suddenness. He recoiled and instinctively began to react to defend himself. Then he got hold of his senses just as the second slap snapped his head around.
“Bastard,” screamed Neumann. His eyes were wide with rage and spittle ran down from his mouth. “You fucking bastard.”
Koenig stepped far enough away so that he was out of range of another swing of Neumann’s arm. He would say nothing. He would endure whatever the Gestapo commander decided was punishment for Koenig’s delivering unwelcome news. Neumann still had the power of life and death over him and even the unwelcome news Koenig had delivered hadn’t changed that.
“Whose idea was it and who decided to keep everything a secret from me? Was it von Arnim or was it Guderian? Damn it, it was probably both of them, wasn’t it, Koenig?”
Koenig said nothing. He hoped that Neumann’s rage would play itself out fairly soon. He could endure the pain with ease, but the shame of being slapped like a child by a cretin like Neumann was something he could only take for so long. He had been one of the few privy to the change and that was only because he now worked so closely with General Guderian. And, despite the physical punishment, he quietly enjoyed Neumann being put in his place. The military would run the war, not the damned Gestapo.
Neumann sat behind his desk and breathed deeply. “You just told me that the war would begin in a few hours, not another week as was planned. Did your generals give any thought as to how I am to contact my people? While some might be ready to move, most are probably enjoying a last Saturday night by getting drunk.”
Koenig agreed but said nothing like that. “I would like to leave now. Do you have a response to the message?”
Neumann smiled wickedly. “Tell them that if this operation fails, they will be in Dachau or some other lovely place for the rest of their lives if they are lucky. As for you, I can see that my discomfiture pleases you. If you are lucky you will be hanged by your neck with piano wire around your throat and with your toes barely grazing the ground so that death is both agonizing and extended. Now get the hell out of here.”
Colonel Downing had been wrong. Instead of a quiet Saturday afternoon and evening, the various staffs had been quietly assembled in the Pentagon. Something called Operation Lexington was about to commence. Everyone was puzzled since nobody had ever heard of Operation Lexington. It was nearly midnight when a white-faced General Truscott assembled them in a conference room.
“Gentlemen,” we now have serious reason to believe that the Germans will attack tonight and not next week. OSS observers and others have seen the Luftwaffe preparing large numbers of planes for what looks like an assault. They’ve never done that before and it can only mean that they are serious. The Germans are also moving battalion sized units towards the Detroit area and larger units have begun moving towards the Buffalo-Niagara area.”
There was murmuring and swearing before Truscott silenced them. “I know there is the very slight possibility that this is either some ill-conceived maneuver or even a test to see how we respond, but we don’t think do. I’ve sent out an alert and I hope everyone’s notified in time to make a difference. Of course, it’s Saturday night which means it’ll take some time to get everyone assembled.”
“You may have a little more time than you think, colonel,” said Air Force Major Fred Bryce, suddenly serious. It was no times for jokes or banter. “The Germans would be utter fools to attack before dawn.”
“Why?” asked Truscott.
Bryce laughed sardonically. “Sir, one of the air force’s dirty little secrets is that most pilots can’t find their asses in the dark without a flashlight, and the Krauts would be flying blind over totally unfamiliar territory. We know that some German pilots couldn’t find London at night, and that a number of British pilots couldn’t find Berlin. Ergo, sir, they are simply not going to find a target without solid visual recognition. They might have spies setting up radio beacons that will lead them to a city but they would still be a long ways from a specific target within that city. Like the Japs did at Pearl Harbor, they will wait for first light.”
“Pilots will have to wait,” Grant said, “but not necessarily saboteurs. They could be starting out right now.”
Private Louie Marks was cold and annoyed. Only a month out of basic training, he was even more disillusioned with the army than he had been when he’d been drafted and sent to work with a bunch of idiots. Worse, being so low on the military pecking order meant he had to pull guard duty on a Saturday night when all the other guys were in Buffalo having a good time. His only consolation was that there weren’t all that many places in Buffalo where a guy could have a good time.
There was only a skeleton crew at the radar site, although they were alert and nervous. Some message had come through saying they should be doubly careful. Sure, Louie thought. As if Germans were going to come running through the woods. Still, it would be nice if there were more than a handful of men left to guard the radar site.
He and that handful of men were led — if that was the word, he snickered — by a very young second lieutenant named Norton. Like Marks, Norton was alleged to be a radar expert and could read the squiggles on a screen that maybe meant something. Louie was still trying to figure those things out.
Oh hark, he thought sarcastically, lights were coming down yonder road. He signaled to the lieutenant and took his rifle off his shoulder. Hey, he realized, the lead vehicle was a cop car and that made him feel a whole lot better. Somebody was using his head and sending in reinforcements. As it approached the gate that Louie was allegedly guarding, the cop car turned on its revolving red light just before stopping by the gate.
A police officer got out. “Open this gate, son,” the cop said. He seemed to have an accent. “This is important.”
Lieutenant Norton showed up in time to hear the cop’s demand. A couple of trucks were behind the cop car and they were filled with men in uniform, probably more cops, Louis thought. Norton gave the order to unlock and open the gate and the three vehicles swept in. Men tumbled out of the trucks and Louie noticed that those weren’t cop uniforms. Christ, they were Germans.
He tried to swing his rifle but was too slow. The cop had a revolver in his hand and fired it twice, hitting Louie in the head. Lieutenant Norton started to say something but he was cut down as well, but he didn’t die as quickly. He moaned and screamed.
The German soldiers fanned out, entering the control building as well as the barracks and little mess hall. Automatic weapons fire rang out as the small number of soldiers and technicians was cut down. Hand grenades were tossed through windows and explosions and screams followed. In another couple of minutes, all wires to the outside world had been cut and demolition charges were set around the base of the vital towers. Moments later, the girders were shattered by dynamite and the towers fell on their sides with a crash that made the Germans cheer.