the Valhalla Exchange (v5) (15 page)

'And equally impossible for them to get out,' Ritter said.

'Which is, after all, the important thing. There is one thing which worries me, however.'

'What's that?' Strasser asked.

'The question of radio communication with the outside world. A distress call at random might well be picked up by some Allied unit or other in the vicinity.'

'No danger of that,' Strasser said. 'They've had problems in the communications room at Schloss Arlberg for several days now. Believe me, Major, there is no way in which they can communicate with the outside world.'

'Another example of your flair for organization, I presume,' Ritter said. 'Anyway, that problem being solved, we will now leave, I think.'

'You mean that literally or do you have a plan?'

'The fact of our going may comfort the general and his friends, however temporarily. The question of planning must wait until I've handled the immediate situation.' He nodded to Sorsa. 'Move out and stop the column around the first bend out of sight of the castle.'

'Zu befehl, Sturmbannfuhrer.'

From the walls, Canning and the others watched them go.

'What do you think, Hamilton?' Birr asked.

'I'm not sure,' Canning said. 'Strasser, the guy who said he was from the Prisoner of War Administration Department, intrigues me. I'm sure I've seen the bastard before somewhere.'

'And the other one - Ritter?'

'The kind who never lets go? Did you see his medals, for Christ's sake?'

'He has quite a reputation, this man,' Hesser said. 'Something of a legend. A great tank destroyer on the Eastern Front. They made much of him in the magazines last year.'

'And Strasser - you've never seen him before?'

'No - never.'

Canning nodded. 'Right, this is what we do. I want two lookouts in the top of the north tower linked to here by field telephone. From up there they should be able to see outside the walls for the entire circuit. Any kind of movement must be instantly reported. I want the rest of the garrison split into three fire parties of six or seven each, ready to rush to any point on the wall as directed by the lookouts.' He turned to Howard. 'You take charge of that operation with Hoover. Finebaum can accompany me as my runner.'

'I'm with you, General,' Finebaum said. 'We'll make a hell of a team, believe me.' He raised a hand deprecatingly. 'No disrespect intended, General.'

'Which remains to be seen.' Canning turned to Hesser. 'And now, I want to see the armoury. Everything you've got here.'

Beyond the first bend in the road, the column had halted. Ritter said to Sorsa, 'I'm returning to the village now. I'll take Sergeant-Major Gestrin and four men with me. They can use the other field car. You stay here with the half-tracks. I want fifteen or twenty men on skis circling those walls without pause. Keep to the woods, but make sure they can be seen. Field telephone communication at all times.'

'And then what?' Sorsa asked.

'I'll let you know,' Ritter said.

Paul Gaillard and Meyer were at the landing window as the two field cars drove into the square and pulled up outside the Golden Eagle. Gestrin and his men carried their skis in theirs and had a field radio.

Gaillard said, 'Better go down and find out what they want. I'll hide in the cupboard in the dressing room again if I hear anyone coming.'

Meyer went downstairs as the front door opened and Ritter led the way into the bar. Strasser and Jackson followed, then Hoffer, carrying Strasser's suitcase containing the radio.

Strasser said to Meyer, 'You have a room I can use personally?'

Meyer, with little option in the matter, said, 'Through here, Mein Herr. My office.'

'Excellent.' Strasser turned to Earl Jackson. 'Tell me, the American pilot's uniform - they managed to procure one for you?'

'It's in the Dakota,' Jackson told him.

'Good. I want you to run up there now in one of the field cars and get it. Take a couple of Gestrin's men with you. And I want you back here as soon as possible.'

Jackson hesitated, a look of puzzlement on his face, and Strasser said, 'No questions -just do it.'

Jackson turned and went out. Strasser picked up his case. 'And now,' he said to Ritter, 'if you will excuse me, I have a little communicating to do,' and he nodded to Meyer and followed him out.

Hoffer went behind the bar. 'A drink, Sturmbannfuhrer ? '

'Why not?' Ritter said. 'Brandy, I think,' and then he gave a slight exclamation and crossed the room quickly.

On the opposite wall hung a large framed eighteenth-century print of Schloss Arlberg, a perfect plan of the entire castle, every walk, every strongpoint, all clearly defined.

The armoury contained few surprises. Perhaps a dozen extra Schmeissers, twenty spare rifles, a couple of boxes of grenades, some plastic explosive. No heavy stuff at all.

'Plenty of ammunition, that's one good thing,' Canning said. He hefted a couple of Walther service pistols and said to the others, 'All right, let's go and see the ladies.'

They found Madame Chevalier warming herself in front of the log fire in the upper dining hall in the north tower. Canning said, 'Where's Claire?'

'She went to her room. She was feeling the cold very badly. We stood outside too long.'

Canning held up the Walther. 'You know how to use one of these things?'

'I play a different instrument as you well know.'

'You'd better learn this one fast, believe me.' He turned to Finebaum. 'See if you can get the finer points across to Madame Chevalier in a fast five minutes, soldier.'

'Anything you say, General.'

Madame Chevalier looked him over, horror on her face, and Finebaum tried his most ingratiating smile. 'They tell me you play piano, lady? You know "GI Jive"?'

Madame Chevalier closed her eyes momentarily, then opened them again. 'If you could show me how the pistol works now,' she said.

When Canning tried the handle on Claire's door it was locked. He knocked and called her name. It was two or three minutes before the bolt was drawn back and she peered out at him. Her eyes seemed very large, the face pale.

'I'm sorry, Hamilton. Come in,' she said.

He walked past her into the bedroom. 'You don't look too good.'

'As a matter of fact, I've just been thoroughly sick. I panicked down there when I heard that the SS had arrived.'

Canning remembered how her husband had died. 'It made you think of Etienne and what happened to him?'

When she looked up at him, her face was very pale. 'No, it made me think of myself, Hamilton. You see I'm a total physical coward and the very thought of those devils ...'

He placed a finger on her lips and took the Walther from his pocket. 'I've brought you a life preserver. You know how to use it, I believe.'

She took it from him, holding it in both hands. 'On myself,' she said. 'Before I allow them to take me from this place.'

'Hush,' Canning kissed her gently. 'Nobody's taking you anywhere, believe me. Now come down and join the others.'

Ritter had taken down the print from the wall and was examining it closely when Strasser entered.

'A useful find,' Ritter told him. 'A plan of Schloss Arlberg.'

'Never mind that now,' Strasser said. 'I've made an even more interesting discovery. Hoffer, bring friend Meyer in here.'

'What is it?' Ritter inquired.

'It appears that a certain Dr Paul Gaillard is actually on the premises. Meyer's boy broke a leg this morning.'

'You're sure of this?'

'Oh yes, my informant is completely reliable.'

Ritter frowned. 'You've been on the radio. Where to? The Castle? You mean you've actually got an agent planted up there? I really must congratulate you, Reichsleiter. My apologies - Herr Strasser. That really is taking organization to the outer limits.'

'I do like efficiency you see, Major. A fatal flaw, if you like, all my life.'

The door opened and Hoffer ushered Meyer into the room. Strasser turned to him and smiled. 'So, Herr Meyer, it would appear you have not been strictly honest with us.'

A few moments later Paul Gaillard, bending over the still unconscious boy, heard footsteps on the stairs. They approached the door confidently. He hesitated, then withdrew into the dressing room and stepped into the cupboard.

There was a long period of silence, or so it seemed - a slight creaking and then, quite unexpectedly, the cupboard door opened and light flooded in.

Ritter was standing there. He didn't bother to draw his pistol, simply smiled and said, 'Dr Gaillard, I believe? Your patient seems to be reviving.'

Gaillard hesitated, then brushed past him and went into the other room where he found Strasser and Meyer bending over the boy, who was moaning feverishly.

Meyer turned in appeal to Ritter, his concern wholly for his son now. 'When you first arrived, Sturmbannfuhrer, we didn't know what to think, the doctor and I. And there was the boy to consider.'

'Yes, I can see that,' Ritter said. 'How bad is he?'

'Not good,' Gaillard said. 'A badly broken leg - high fever. He needs constant attention, that's why I stayed. But I can't have you lot in here. You'll have to go.'

Ritter glanced at Strasser, who nodded slightly. Gaillard was ignoring them, sponging the boy's forehead. 'So, you didn't manage to get into the castle it would seem.'

'We will, Doctor, we will,' Ritter said. 'I'll have to put a sentry in here, of course, but we'll leave you to it for now.'

He nodded to Meyer, who went out. Gaillard said, 'All right, if you must, I suppose.' He glanced up, saw Strasser for the first time. His mouth opened wide, there was a look of astonishment on his face. 'Good God, I know you.'

'I don't think so,' Strasser said. 'My name is Strasser of the Prisoner of War Administration Department in Berlin, as the major here will confirm.'

Gaillard turned to Ritter, who smiled. 'We'll leave you to your patient, Doctor,' and he ushered Strasser outside and closed the door.

'Bormann,' Gaillard whispered. 'When was it we were introduced? Munich, 1935? Reichsleiter Martin Bormann. I'd stake my life on it.'

And at the same moment in the bunker in Berlin, Martin Bormann and General Wilhelm Burgdorf, Hitler's army adjutant, waited in the central passage outside the Fuhrer's personal suite. As the man who had delivered the poison with which Field-Marshal Erwin Rommel had been obliged to kill himself after the July 20th plot, it might have been thought that Burgdorf would have been used to such situations, but just now he looked terrified and was sweating profusely.

At 3.30 there was a pistol shot. Martin Bormann rushed into the Fuhrer's suite, followed by his valet, Heinz Linge and Colonel Otto Gunsche, his SS adjutant. The room reeked of the cyanide which Eva Hitler had used to take her life. The Fuhrer sprawled beside her, his face shattered.

Dr Stumpfegger, the Fuhrer's personal doctor, and Linge, the valet, carried the body up to the Chancellery garden, wrapped in a grey blanket. Martin Bormann came next, carrying Eva Hitler.

A curious incident then took place, for the Fuhrer's chauffeur, Erich Kempka, was reminded of the fact that in life Bormann had been Eva Hitler's greatest enemy. He stepped forward and took her body from the Reichsleiter for it did not seem right to him to leave her in his charge.

The bodies were placed in a shallow pit and fifty gallons of petrol poured over them and set on fire. As the flames cascaded into the sky, those present stood at attention, arms extended in a final party salute.

The Russians, at that point in time, were perhaps 150 yards away from the bunker.

12

Ritter sat at the desk in Meyer's office, going over the print of the ground plan of Schloss Arlberg yet again. Hoffer stood by the door, waiting quietly. Ritter put down his pencil and sat back.

Hoffer said, 'Can it be done?'

'I don't see why not,' Ritter said. 'All it requires is good discipline and a little nerve and I think our Finns aren't noticeably lacking in either.'

The door opened and Strasser entered. 'Jackson is back.'

'Ah, yes,' Ritter said. 'You sent him to Arnheim. May one ask why?'

'First tell me of your plan of attack.'

'Very well.' Ritter looked down at the print of the castle again. 'I will wait until dark. In fact, well after. Say midnight when the defenders will already have been on the alert for a considerable period of time, which means they will be tired. No use moving in with the half-tracks because we alert them the instant we start the engines.'

'So?'

'A force of say twenty men will approach the edge of the moat under cover of darkness. Two of them will cross the moat, climb the drawbridge and set a couple of demolition charges. Very easy to make up from what we've got and it won't need a particularly powerful charge to blow those chains. Another charge against the gate timed to explode in the same instant.'

'I see,' Strasser said. 'The drawbridge falls, the gates open and your shock-troops rush across to take possession?'

'Backed up by the half-tracks, which start moving the instant they hear the explosion. What do you think?'

'Very good,' Strasser said.

'Any weak points?'

'Only one. As it happens there's an outside floodlight at the entrance. They turned it on about fifteen minutes ago. I'm sure Sorsa will confirm that if you raise him on the field telephone.'

Ritter leaned back. 'You have an excellent and very immediate source of information.'

'So it would appear,' Strasser said, but made no effort to enlighten him. 'Of course, you could have a sniper shoot out this flood-light.'

'And immediately alert them to the fact that we were up to something.'

'An excellent plan, however, and it could still work.'

'How?'

'If we had someone able to do exactly the same thing from the inside.' Strasser walked to the door and opened it. 'All right?' he said.

Earl Jackson entered the room wearing a flying jacket with a sheepskin collar over the uniform of a captain in the United States Army Air Corps.

As Colonel Hesser and Schneider mounted the steps to the east wall, the wind dashed frozen sleet into their faces. It was bitterly cold and the sergeant-major adjusted his grip on Magda's lead.

'A bitch of a night,' Hesser said. 'Takes me back to forty-two and the Winter War. The kind of cold that eats into the brain.'

He shuddered, remembering, and Schneider said, 'I wouldn't think they'd bother us on a night like this.'

'Isn't that what we used to say about the Russians?' Hesser said. 'Until we learned better? And so, I presume, did Ritter. He's spent enough time on the Eastern Front, God knows.'

The sentries were spread woefully thin, not that he could do much about that. There was one at the east watchtower. Hesser had a word with him, then leaned out of an embrasure in the wall and looked back towards the pool of light at the gate.

'I wonder how long it will be before one of them can't resist shooting that out? I almost wish they would. An end to this damned uncertainty.'

'You think they'll come then, Herr Oberst?' Schneider asked.

'You saw Ritter for yourself, didn't you? Did he look like the kind of man to just run away? And what about those ski patrols, circling endlessly through the forest right up until dark. No, he's there all right. And when he's ready, you'll know about it. Anyway, let's check the water gate.'

They went down the watchtower steps. There was a small damp tunnel blocked by a heavy iron grille. A corporal called Wagner stood guard there, a veteran of the Eastern Front, his left arm partially wasted away from bad shrapnel wounds. He was leaning against the gate looking out, his Schmeisser ready in his right hand.

'Everything is in order here?' Hesser demanded.

'I'm not sure, Herr Oberst. I thought I heard something.'

They stood listening. Snow drifted through the grille and Hesser said, 'Only the wind.'

And then Magda whined, straining forward on the leash. 'No, Herr Oberst,' Schneider said. 'He's right. Something moves.'

He and Hesser drew their pistols. There was a distinct slithering sound on the other side of the moat, snow falling into the water, and then a hoarse whisper in English. 'Is there anyone there? Don't shoot. I'm an American officer.'

Someone entered the water. Hesser said to Schneider, 'Switch on your torch, a second only, then down on the ground.'

There was a pause, then Schneider's torch flashed, the beam picking Earl Jackson out of the darkness instantly. He was in the middle of the moat, swimming strongly, only his head and the sheepskin collar of his flying jacket showing above the water.

'Kamerad!'
he called, gasping for breath. 'American officer. I'm looking for General Hamilton Canning.'

It was Finebaum, crouched in the shadow of the wall above the main gate, who spotted the momentary spot of light on his left. Below him, Howard and Hoover crouched against the wall, smoking cigarettes.

'Hey, Captain, there was a light down there below the east watchtower in the moat.'

They were on their feet instantly. 'You certain?' Howard leaned out of the embrasure. 'I can't see a thing.'

'There was a light. Just for a minute.'

'Okay, let's move it,' Howard said and started along the wall.

When they entered the water-gate tunnel, Jackson was on the other side from Hesser and his men, clutching the grille, knee-deep in water. 'Let me in, for Christ's sake. I've got to see General Canning.'

'What is it?' Howard demanded. 'What's going?'

Hesser switched on the torch without a word. Jackson blinked in the sudden light. He was soaked to the skin, water dripping from his uniform, teeth chattering. He tried to peer into the darkness at Howard.

'You American, buddy? For Christ's sakes, make these crazy bastards let me in. Another five minutes of this and I'll die of exposure.'

'Hey, he's right, Captain,' Finebaum said. 'He don't look too good.'

'Who are you?' Howard demanded.

'Harry Bannerman's the name. Crash-landed this morning about ten miles from here in a P47. Got picked up by an SS unit. They had me down in the village here until an hour ago. In an inn called the Golden Eagle.'

'How did you get away?'

'The landlord helped me - a guy called Meyer. There was another prisoner there. He put him up to it. A Frenchman named Gaillard. He told me to get up here fast and see General Canning. I've got information about when the krauts intend to hit this place.' He rattled the grille ineffectively, his voice breaking. 'Let me in, for Christ's sake - if you don't want to die, that is.'

'Okay,' Howard said to Hesser. 'Open the gate and drag him in - but fast. And you, Finebaum, I make personally responsible for blowing his backbone in half if he makes a wrong move.'

In the darkness among the trees on the far side of the moat, Strasser, Ritter and Hoffer listened to the clang of the grille shutting.

'So, he's in,' Ritter said. 'Let's hope they buy his story.'

'I don't see why not,' Strasser said. 'Jackson's strength, as I said before, lies in the fact that he's a genuine American, not the ersatz variety that let Skorzeny down so badly in the Ardennes.'

'So now we wait,' Ritter said.

'Until it's time for my part in this rather interesting drama.' Strasser smiled through the darkness. 'You know, I'm really rather looking forward to it.'

General Canning, Birr, Madame Chevalier and Claire were having a late supper of sandwiches and coffee when Hesser and Howard entered, followed by Jackson, an army blanket draped around his shoulders. Finebaum was right behind him, the muzzle of his M1 no more than an inch away from Jackson's backbone.

'What have we here?' Canning demanded, rising to his feet.

'Swam across the moat to the water gate, General,' Howard said. 'Claims to be an Army Air Corps officer. No papers - no identification on him whatsoever. Not even his dog tags.'

'They took them off me,' Jackson said. 'Those damned SS stripped me of everything. I mean, how many times do I have to tell you?'

'What outfit?' Canning demanded.

'Five hundred and tenth squadron, 405th group, sir. Operating out of what was a Luftwaffe base at Hellenbach until we took it four days ago.'

'What's your story?'

'My squadron was ordered to hit a Panzer column on the other side of Salzburg from here. This morning it was, General. We dropped our bombs dead on target, no problem, there being no Luftwaffe to speak of in this area any more. Then on the way back my battery went dead and I had to crash-land.'

'What was your aircraft?'

'P47 Thunderbolt, sir. I made it down in one piece in a clearing in the forest, then struck out for the main road. It's a pretty fluid situation in this area, General. There are plenty of our people around. It's just a question of knowing where.'

'And you say you were picked up by an SS unit?'

'That's right, sir. Mostly Finns, but there was a German officer in charge. A man called Ritter.'

'And they've been holding you all day?'

'That's right, sir, at an inn called the Golden Eagle in Arlberg.' There was a slight pause. He gazed around him wildly. 'Say, what goes on here? What do you people think I am -a kraut or something?'

'Well, I'll tell you, Captain,' Finebaum put in. 'Because it's really funny you should say that. When we were in the Ardennes in forty-four - and it was snowing then too, I might add - there was guys popping up all over the place, just like you, GI uniform - everything. Saying they'd lost their units, asking the way to Malmedy. Stuff like that. An interesting thing. They was all krautheads.'

'Any chance of you shutting this man up?' Canning inquired coldly.

Howard said, 'Button it, Finebaum.'

Canning said to Jackson, 'We're in a hell of a position in here, Bannerman. We can't afford to take anything on trust, you understand?'

'He says he's met Dr Gaillard, sir,' Howard put in.

Claire said excitedly, 'You've seen Paul?'

'Sure I've seen him.'

'How is he?'

'He's looking after a sick kid down there at the inn. Son of the landlord, a guy named Meyer.'

'And the SS have him?' Canning asked.

'Oh, yes. Major Ritter, the officer in command, lets him see to the kid regularly, but they had us locked up together for quite a while. Meyer brought our food and Gaillard saw him quite a lot each time he went to see to the kid. He's in a pretty bad way.'

'All right, how did you escape?'

'Well, it was mostly Meyer who made that possible. He overheard Ritter and some guy called Strasser - a civilian he has with him -discussing their plans for an attack just before dawn. They're going to put some guys across the moat with explosives to blow down your drawbridge. When Gaillard heard that, he told me I'd have to get away somehow and come and warn you people.'

'Which you seem to have managed without too much trouble,' Birr said.

'That was Meyer again. He tipped me off he'd leave the back door near the kitchen unlocked. I asked to go to the lavatory, gave the Finn who was escorting me a shove at the right moment, got the door open and ran like hell.'

There was a long and heavy silence now in which everyone seemed to be looking at him. Jackson said, 'General, I'm Captain Harry Bannerman of the United States Army Air Corps and when that drawbridge of yours is blown to hell and gone just before dawn tomorrow, you'll know I was telling the truth. Just now, I'd settle for a cup of coffee, dry clothes and somewhere to lay my head.'

Canning smiled suddenly and held out his hand. 'I'll tell you something, son. All of a sudden I've decided to believe you.' He turned to Hesser. 'Can you find him some dry clothes?'

'Certainly,' Hesser said. 'If the Herr Captain doesn't mind German uniform. This way, if you please.'

Jackson started to follow him, paused and turned. 'Heh, there's just one thing, General. Something kind of funny. It doesn't mean a damn thing to me. Maybe it does to you.'

'What's that?' Canning asked him.

'This guy Strasser - the civilian I told you about?'

'Well?'

'It's just that he seems to swing a lot of weight. I mean a couple of times there he acted as if he was in charge and I heard Ritter call him Reichsleiter. That ring any bells with you?'

Hesser turned pale. 'Bormann?' he whispered.

'That's it,' Canning said excitedly. 'I knew I'd seen that ugly face somewhere before. Martin Bormann, Secretary to Hitler himself. I saw him just once on the stand at the Berlin Olympic Games in thirty-six.' He turned on Hesser. 'You didn't recognize him?'