“Firstly, the German debacle at D-Day was not my fault. My previous reports strongly hinted at the correct location of the attack all along.”
“Only we did not see the hints until it was too late. Next time be more direct.”
“Secondly, if I am too direct it’ll be my head in a noose on the gallows, and I’ll be of no use to you a’tall.”
“But an Allied offensive began in September in the Baltics and is ongoing, and the odds are not looking good for Germany. If that campaign succeeds, the only thing standing between the Red Army and Germany is Poland.”
Oliver stared grimly at the man. “Ironic, as Poland was the first victim of Der Führer’s Blitzkrieg. But I see your dilemma. The Americans take POWs. The Russians shoot them.”
“If Stalin defeats Germany we’ll all be communists,” retorted Cedric brusquely.
“Well, we can’t have that, can we?”
Cedric said, “So, the intelligence I seek, do you have it?”
“I think your superiors will be very pleased. Indeed, I believe this will turn a blundering negative into a brilliant strategic triumph and forevermore enshrine you in the hallowed halls of German spycraft. I congratulate you, Herr Cedric Axmann.”
“You English are such fine orators. Put a British accent on an idiot and he sounds like he quotes Shakespeare, or better yet, Goethe.”
Oliver smiled. “Yes, but then he’s still an idiot.”
“Now, the information? I am in a hurry.”
Oliver strolled over to the bookcase, pulled down the Jacques novel, and handed it to Cedric, who glanced at the spine.
“Another book by George Sand, the French female?” Cedric said derisively.
“Imogen was quite partial to her.”
“I do not much care for her affinity for the French, but your wife is missed.”
“Yes, Imogen is. Very much,” replied Oliver, his casual manner vanishing.
Cedric tensed, then rushed over to the door and wrenched it open.
And there stood a terrified Charlie and Molly.
Reversal of All
The gray four-door Humber Snipe drove slowly through the darkened, empty roads with Cedric at the wheel. Next to him was Oliver. In the rear seat, a tall, thick-shouldered man in dark clothing held a Luger on Molly and Charlie.
Cedric looked in the mirror at them. “This does not make me happy in the slightest, Ignatius. I have children of my own.”
“You think it makes me happy?” retorted Oliver. “I’d grown rather fond of them.”
“But this was your fault. You brought them to your home. And now they have eavesdropped. That leaves us no choice, you understand this?”
“I understand all too well,” Oliver replied quietly.
“Mr. Oliver,” began Molly in a pleading tone.
He held up a hand for her to stop speaking. Oliver looked at Cedric. “Next left. It’s wooded, quiet, and the river bends at the right angle for our purposes. The current is very swift there and they’ll be past Southend-on-Sea in very short order.”
Molly started to quietly weep while Charlie looked at Oliver in disbelief.
Oliver gave Cedric further directions, and he pulled the Snipe to a stop in a small clearing well outside of London where the rush of water could be clearly heard.
They all got out and Oliver looked at Cedric. “Down by the riverbank. It can be done there.”
The man with the Luger eyed first Molly and then Charlie. “No pain. You just go to sleep, little ones.”
“And you can go straight to hell.” This came not from Charlie, but Molly. It was not directed at the man who was about to kill them, but rather at Ignatius Oliver.
An impassive Oliver said to Cedric, “Right through the gap here.”
They had walked only a few more steps when they were hit with flashes of intense light from multiple torches.
“Police!” cried out a voice. “Hold it right there. What are you doing with them kids?”
“What is going on!” screamed Cedric, pulling a gun and waving it around.
Oliver snatched it away, tugged Cedric close, and said, “Don’t be stupid. It’s just the bloody police. They must have seen us put Molly and Charlie in the car and followed. Get them to the river, I’ll hold them off.”
He fired at the torch lights. As did the other man.
Then multiple shots rang out.
The large man next to Oliver dropped his Luger, clutched his stomach, and toppled to the ground.
Molly had fallen to her knees and watched in horror as the shots were fired. She saw Oliver flinch once and then again, his body twisting with the impacts. He cried out in pain and his gun fell to the dirt.
“Get away from them kids!” screamed a uniformed man, appearing in the light. “You damn slavers.”
Oliver’s mouth sagged and his hand gripped his chest, where his shirt was fast turning crimson. He looked at Cedric in desperation. “The b-book. R-run. Back to the... c-car. B-before it’s all scuppered.” Blood was leaching from Oliver’s mouth, as Cedric fled into the trees.
A swaying Oliver looked at Charlie and Molly. They were staring back at him in disbelief and shock. “I... I’m... so s-sorry.” Then he dropped to the dirt and lay still.
A uniformed man rushed up to Molly and Charlie. “You okay? Nothing hurt?”
They shook their heads, both their gazes fixed on Oliver’s body.
“Where’d the other bloke go?” someone shouted as the sound of a car starting up reached them.
Charlie and Molly pulled their gazes away from Oliver’s body when Major Bryant stepped into the clearing and shone a light on them and then on himself, so they could see him.
He looked down at the dead, Luger-toting man, and then at the bloody Oliver lying there, before glancing at Molly and Charlie and saying quietly, “It’s all right, children. You’re safe now.”
“Mr. Oliver was working with the Germans,” Charlie cried out.
“They sh-shot him. He’s d-dead,” added Molly tearfully.
Bryant’s trim mustache twitched. “Okay, the coast is clear, you can be resurrected now.”
Oliver slowly sat up and wiped the “blood” off his mouth with a handkerchief. He stood and said, “I trust Cedric made his escape?”
Bryant nodded. “We have him on a short leash, of course.”
Oliver then looked guiltily at the dazed Charlie and Molly. “Perhaps this can all be better explained back at The Book Keep.”
Poor Imogen
Oliver, the children, and Major Bryant all were seated in the study.
Oliver had passed out warm blankets before settling in a comfortable chair in front of a roaring fire, courtesy of several pieces of wood provided by Major Bryant’s men.
Bryant began by saying, “Now, just to be clear, there is not much we can tell you. The law and all.”
“That’s rubbish,” blurted out Charlie. “You owe us the whole bloody truth, you do.”
Bryant began in a severe tone, “Now see here, young man, while I understand—”
“They’re right, Scott. I know you can see that,” interjected Oliver.
“What I can see, and what my oath of secrecy dictates, are two very different things, Ignatius,” Bryant countered.
“Still, we can tell them something. They’ve been through a truly horrific experience. They deserve to know certain things.”
Bryant let out a sigh. “Oh, all right. But you both must swear to carry all that I tell you to the grave.”
Molly and Charlie quickly nodded.
Bryant settled back and began. “I operate an intelligence program with the Security Service called the Double-Cross, a counter-espionage and deception scheme. The Germans have continually dropped spies into our midst, by plane, boat, submarine. Almost all of them were ill-trained, inept — worthless, really. We had broken the German Enigma code and other ciphers before Germany started sending spies here. Indeed, we’d often pick the gits up as they walked ashore! So the Germans got very little out of it. But we began exploiting that advantage by turning those very same agents and feeding to the Germans false or, more accurately, some truthful intelligence mixed in with enough tosh so that it looked like their spy effort was working. And we gained quite valuable intelligence on the German spy network in the bargain. But that’s not to say the Germans didn’t keep trying. And this Cedric bloke was better than most. In fact, we’d never have gotten on to him without help.” He looked at Oliver as if to say, Okay, mate, I’ve done my bit.