McKinley glanced at the summary.
“Do you know who this Johann Decker is?” he asked.
“The name is not familiar.”
McKinley flipped the intercom switch.
“Barnes,” he said, “is that biographical information on Johann Decker — reference, Intelligence Summary, third March, page two — ready?”
“Just transcribing it, sir.”
“Also find out who was interested in exfiltrating him And — why.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Bring it in when you have it.”
He flipped off the switch and turned back to Reed.
“Degussa?”
“A Frankfurt corporation, sir. They have an outstanding reputation in the field of metal refinement. Pre-war, they used small amounts of uranium for the manufacture of ceramic coloring. We have had unconfirmed intelligence that indicates considerable quantities of uranium products recently shipped to their plant.” He thought for a moment. “But we have no reliable information on any current project. Degussa security has been extremely strict. We assume it to be a uranium-reduction project.”
McKinley nodded.
“And — Himmelmann?”
“Probably Gustav Himmelmann. An Austrian physicist involved in atomic research. One of the scientists whose whereabouts Alsos has been trying to pinpoint.” He frowned. “Apparently he is in Haigerloch.” He paused. “Only — ten miles from Hechingen…”
“Yes. Hechingen,” McKinley said. “Again…”
His mind raced back to the fall of the year before. It had been their biggest scare. Aerial photographs taken on a series of sorties had revealed a construction program of considerable magnitude mushrooming with extraordinary speed in the Hechingen area. Railroad spurs, power lines and storage tanks had sprung up; what appeared to be a number of medium-sized industrial plants and factory buildings with tall chimneys had been erected and a grid of pipes laid out on the ground, and storage depots with mountains of material dotted the region. The project had obviously been given the highest priority; three large forced-labor camps had been built literally over-night. Since a flock of German atomic scientists had already been sent to Hechingen and surrounding villages, everyone from Groves on had felt the project might well be a Nazi version of Oak Ridge and Los Alamos rolled into one. The complex was finally determined to be a new form of shale-oil-cracking plant, and that explanation had been accepted then. Indeed, there were deposits of low-grade oil shale in the region. Now he felt suddenly uneasy. Extracting oil from shale was inefficient. Was the operation actually a cover for the construction of an atomic bomb?
He turned to the OSS major.
“Rosenfeld?”
“They are obviously going full steam on some top-secret project — atomic or not,” the officer said. “We will have to find out exactly what.”
“You recommend an OSS mission?”
Rosenfeld nodded. “I do.”
McKinley turned to Reed. “What about Alsos?” he asked.
He already knew the answer….
Alsos was MED's own scientific-intelligence unit, formed in the fall of 1943. Its primary mission was to collect intelligence of atomic developments in Italy and Germany. Alsos agents advanced with and operated closely behind US military forces — but never in enemy territory. The highly knowledgeable Alsos scientists and specialists were far too vulnerable to risk capture and interrogation. Alsos’ German operation had begun only a week before near Aachen, too recently for any significant results.
“It's not an operation for Alsos,” Reed said.
“The only agency with operatives working in the ‘black’ inside Germany proper, sir, is our Secret Intelligence section— OSS-SI,” Rosenfeld added.
“Any of them qualified to handle this?”
Rosenfeld shook his head.
“I am certain not,” he said. “We only have a handful of agents inside.”
There was a knock on the door. Captain Barnes entered, handed a sheet of paper to McKinley and left.
The general read the information aloud:
“Decker, Johann — physicist. Born Düsseldorf, 1901. Professor theoretic physics, Heidelberg. Investigated disintegration products of radium, thorium and actinium, and the behavior of beta rays. Investigations in the field of quantum theory and atomic structure and behavior. Worked on development of quantum mechanics, 1931. Nobel Prize in physics, 1934. Professor in Berlin; member of Kaiser Wilhelm Institute of Physics, 1937. Joined Degussa, Frankfurt, 1944—position and activities unknown. Considered one of Germany's leading scientists in the field of atomic research. G-2 states exfiltration request originated with Manhattan Project.”
McKinley looked at Colonel Reed.
“Seems your people wanted this Decker fellow,” he said. “And I can understand why.”
Reed was turning deep red.
“Yes, sir,” he said with obvious difficulty. Then he could no longer contain himself. “Damn that Need-to-Know nonsense!” he exploded. “How in hell can I function when my right hand doesn't communicate with my left — even in sign language?”
McKinley smiled.
“Don't let it get you down, Reed,” he said. “I've got the same problem right here.”
He turned to Rosenfeld. He grew sober.
“It's your baby, Major,” he said. “How do you want to handle it?”
Rosenfeld frowned lightly in concentration.
“Probably as a one-man infiltration — rather than a team effort,” he said. “The man would have to penetrate a strict security project in the heart of enemy country.”
“He'd have to be one hell of an agent,” Reed commented.
“He would” Rosenfeld looked at General McKinley “I can profile him.”
“Go,” McKinley said.
“He'd have to speak German like a native, know his way around the country. He must be thoroughly trained and have experience in the field. He must be a scientist with enough knowledge in the atomic field to know what he is looking for— and to recognize it if he finds it — but not enough knowledge of our own progress to be a real danger if captured.” He thought for a moment. “He must be in good enough physical condition to be able to handle himself in any tight situation, and he would have to have a good cover with a valid excuse for not being in the German armed forces, if he is to be able to move around.”
“Pretty tall order — even for your OSS,” Reed commented dryly.
“Can you lay your hands on a man to fit that bill?” General McKinley asked. “Fast?”
“How fast?”
“Forty-eight hours.”
Rosenfeld looked startled. “We can try.”
“Get on it,” McKinley said. “Keep me fully informed.”
“Yes, sir.”
McKinley stood up. He walked over to the window. The sky was as blue as he had ever seen it. He weighed his options…. Johann Decker's statement was unconfirmed, but he felt in his gut it was valid. Attempts could be made to verify it. Were significant amounts of uranium actually going to Haigerloch? That was a key question. What were the realistic risks in sending into Germany an agent who knew about the Manhattan Project, however sketchily? He suddenly appreciated Groves’ stand on that baseball-player incident; saw the dilemma clearer than ever. If the man was caught, he would be made to talk. Eventually. McKinley had no illusions about that. Would the risks be outweighed by the possible benefits? If the Nazi undertaking at Haigerloch definitely was an atomic-bomb project— was there any choice at all?
He turned to Rosenfeld.
“Major,” he said, “I want a penetration mission prepared as quickly as possible, ready to jump off at a moment's notice.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I will tell you if—and when. Understood?”