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And in a departure of tone which sounded more like conversation “For my part, I believe it is not a case of if, but when.”

“General De Walle?” Knocke enquired as he smartly stepped aside to relinquish the prime position.

It had been decided that too much at the first encounter could prove counter-productive, so it was planned that Knocke’s delivery would be the end of the beginning and the introductions of the rest of “Biarritz” would occur once the shock had worn off.

However, De Walle had decided to have a small departure from the rehearsed performance and started into it.

“Before the symposium members leave us and I invite your questions I must say this.”

Knocke remained looking straight ahead, as did the rest of the Germans, but De Walle could sense some confusion in the change. This time his mental note was a plus to him for putting one over on Knocke. His inner smile worked its way to his face before he realised it, but he kept it there in any case as it was appropriate.

“The men stood before you today were your enemies. This time last year, you would have tried to kill them, as they would have tried to kill you. Today our fight with them is over. Yes, they were beaten and they surrendered to the allied forces, with their country occupied and their army destroyed.” He knew that would hurt Knocke and his men but felt it needed to be said. “But mark my words they did not lose through their inability or a lack of courage and skill, and all of you here have fought them and will know the worth of the German soldier, a soldier who is as good today as he has always been. If you doubt that then I suggest that you take a long hard look at Colonel Knocke.”

“A long hard look.” A statement, the delivery of which dared the listener to look away for a second.

Eyes scanned Knocke from head to foot and understood.

“All of you knew the name Knocke before it was spoken here today. Why? Because the man is a legend, a legend earned in the harshest schools of combat and a legend from which you now have the opportunity to learn.”

“Major.”

Again, the crash of Dubois boot to the stone slabs startled some as he called the room to attention. The response was instant and De Walle, acknowledging Knocke’s salute once more, knew that they had done well.

The precision continued without orders as Knocke marched between his men and each moved off in perfect step in turn until the group was again in column and well out into the hall.

The door whined in protest as it closed and then shut with a theatrical bang. Dubois shot his foot out into the at ease position and De Walle looked quizzically at the stunned men in front of him before posing a challenge to the ensemble with the simple line “Any questions?”

To his greatest surprise, there were none.

Moreover, in the brief history of Symposium Biarritz, there never ever were.

In the trophy room outside, the closure of the door signalled the halt of the symposium’s march. Knocke dismissed the parade with a quiet flourish. All relaxed and grins were exchanged.

“Danke Kameraden. I think that went rather well. Now the real work begins.”

Chapter 19 – THE ERRORS

All our knowledge merely helps us to die a more painful death than animals that know nothing.

Maurice Maeterlinck
1103 hrs, Saturday, 21st July 1945, The Kremlin, Moscow, USSR.

Beria held the message out to his leader and could not conceal his glee. Stalin did not take it but read Beria’s mind and posture instead.

“So your agent is not lost to the Motherland, Lavrentiy?”

It was not a question. Beria felt deflated that he was so transparent to the General Secretary.

“It would appear not, as authentication code is correct, and there is no compromisation indicated.”

“Therefore we can assume the Turkish difficulty has not affected Alkonost?”

“I would say not, but we are in the process of finding out exactly what our issues may be.”

“Keep me up to date.” Stalin moved on.

“So your informed view of this message is?”

“Confirmation of the failure reported by two other agents Comrade General Secretary, and additional news of some note that will need confirmation.”

Stalin looked up and took the paper, running his eyes over it and greedily consuming the contents. Even the dictator could not hide his happiness with the contents.

The message read:-

‘[priority code] SDD

[agent] Alkonost

[date code] 160745c

[personal code as an authenticator] FB21162285

[distribution1] route x-eyes only

[distribution1] AalphaA [Comrade Chairman Beria].

[message] test failed. A+ self observed. Reliable reports B+ many scientist deaths. Train-Snake.

[message ends]

Message authenticates. Codes for non-compromisation valid.

RECEIVED 09:19 21/7/45-B.V.LEMSKY’

“So this failure Lavrentiy? Our agents or their inefficiency? Do we know?”

“Neither Alkonost, Gamayun, nor Kalibr reports indicate action on the part of the agent but all three messages have been brief. It is possible that it could be modesty on the part of an agent of course, but I would have expected credit to be claimed, however brief the message.”

Beria offered an explanation.

“I can imagine there is much consternation in the Amerikanisti project, so possibly our agents have sent short messages for their own security.”

 “Only Alkonost mentions casualties but the reliability seems reasonable. We will know more later.”

Stalin pushed a little harder.

“So I was correct. No need to trouble our military after all.”

“That would appear to be so, Comrade General Secretary. Their project is now stalled and, if the report of casualties is true then we may even find our own research proves fruitful before theirs. That is a thought to sustain the revolutionary heart comrade!”

“Indeed it is Comrade Marshall” and what passed for a laugh escaped the dictator’s lips.

Recently Beria’s position had been cosmetically changed from Chairman to Marshall and he had difficulty getting used to the idea, and the uniform for that matter. The suit he wore today made him feel more the part.

“Now I must receive a delegation from the Urals factories. A necessary evil.”

“I will inform your staff that you are free on my way out Comrade General Secretary.”

Beria did so as he passed through the anteroom, his mind already wrestling with his next problem. Hopefully Comrade Philby’s timely Turkish present was already singing, but it was already clear from Philby’s report that no information had been handed over. Therefore, Beria’s men were just going through the motions of interrogation before disposing of the traitor.

By the time Beria had the thought, Volkov’s body was already stiffening, his interrogation and torture completed in record time as his liaison with the British was already well-documented. He took the crucial secret of his fruitless liaison with the US with him to his cold and silent grave.

1400 hrs, Saturday, 21st July 1945, The Château du Haut-Kœnigsbourg, French Alsace.

It was on this morning that Anne-Marie Valois broke the news to Von Arnesen that his son had been killed in the fighting during the last days of resistance in Berlin. There remained no news of his wife.

At precisely 1400 hrs, Knocke and De Walle adjourned to the Frenchman’s private office to discuss the submitted reports for the first week of the symposium. Overall, it had been a huge success, with the allied soldiers accepting the input of the Germans grudgingly at first but with increasing thirst for knowledge as they began to appreciate the abilities and experiences of their teachers.