Authors: Alan Bricklin
"Oh, Julian, " she whispered and held him close,
not wanting to let any of him go.
After a minute he raised himself on his elbows, smiling down
at her, not because of any particular fondness, and certainly not out of love,
but because he was reminded of some English pundit who defined a gentleman as a
man who takes his weight upon his elbows. Victoria saw his smile and, as she
had with almost everything about him, misinterpreted it, seeing tenderness that
he did not posses and love where there was none. "Oh Julian," how
wonderful you are. If you keep that up a girl could fall in love with
you."
"If I could keep that up I'd probably be dead or in a
record book; maybe both." They laughed, then kissed, a tender post coital
kiss. Just as he had planned.
Vickie grabbed hold of the edge of the covers and slid
beneath them motioning him to follow. She rolled on her side, languidly
extending an arm toward him, "We can shower in the morning. Oh, the
Victrola; it will run out of steam soon." The rasp of the needle seemed to
echo in the now quiet room. Her voice had trailed off and her arm settled
slowly to her side followed seconds later by the soft sound of snoring as she
sunk into an exhausted sleep.
Julian swung to the side of the bed, rather pleased with
himself and his performance, stood up, walked to the antique looking box on the
table and lifted the needle from the center of the record where it oscillated
back and forth. Returning to the bed he was already thinking about
contingencies, "what ifs," and problems to be solved. Included in the
latter was Kent Mallory. His thinking did not get very far since he, too, was
overcome by fatigue, and as he slid into bed, operational plans blended with
flashbacks to the intense sexual pleasure he had just experienced. The last
thought he had before falling asleep was that Vickie took up an awful lot of
room in the bed.
* *
At about the same time that Julian opened his eyes to bright
sunlight streaming in from the windows, Kent was at the Bahnhof boarding the
early morning train to Lugano. He hadn't slept very well. Even after he had
gone over all aspects of their plan the night before, trying to think of all
possibilities, just as Templeton had instructed him, and felt that he could
finally rest, repose nonetheless eluded him. His mind was in turmoil, too many
thoughts vying for attention, and always that remorseful voice could be heard
in the background,
One of our boys will probably be killed. Wasn't that what
Gerhard had implied? We can cancel it from our end.
Kent's head hurt and he
felt lethargic so he decided on strong coffee in the dining car and the passing
Swiss countryside as the needed antidote.
Sitting in the tastefully appointed car, a small vase with a
delicate flower resting on a clean white linen tablecloth, and the smell of
freshly brewed espresso in the air, the tension seemed to ebb. When the waiter
brought him a coffee service, silver spoon placed just so on the cloth napkin,
Kent was already beginning to think he had been too pessimistic in his
assessment of the situation. There was no reason the field agent had to die.
Surely there must be numerous ways for them to get to the plutonium before he
had a chance to retrieve it, especially since they and their new found General
would have access to almost immediate transport as well as a cadre of loyal
supporters. When the agent arrived at the place where it had been secreted, it
simply wouldn't be there. Certainly not the first time that the OSS would have
received faulty information or some other players had snatched their prize. The
agent merely had to return to Switzerland; probably not too difficult given all
the confusion present in a war torn and defeated country, and he would not have
the burden of the plutonium or it's deadly aftermath. Yes, their operation just
might make it easier for the agent to survive his foray into Germany.
Kent stepped off the train in Lugano to a bright day, the
sun already above the peaks in a clear blue sky with hardly a cloud in view. It
was cooler than the last time, although with no breeze blowing off the lake it
seemed quite pleasant and he strolled to their rendezvous with his coat open
and a smile on his face. Along the strand, several blocks from the café, he
noticed a very attractive woman standing at the rail, her back to the lake,
watching the morning traffic pass. Kent glanced her way and thought he saw a
smile flash briefly before she looked beyond him as if searching for someone.
"Well," he thought, "if she doesn't find her husband or
boyfriend maybe I can be the one she's looking for. We'll see when I come back
this way." His pace quickened as he approached the clustered tables of the
small restaurant, taking on more of a businesslike air until he strode up to
where Waldman sat reading a newspaper, a cup of coffee and the remains of a
croissant on the table. The general looked up and before he had even risen from
his chair to greet him, Kent had his arm extended in greeting, the smile still
on his face. Gerhard took his hand and shook it, a quizzical look passing
fleetingly across his face as he wondered about Kent's change in attitude from
their last encounter. "Good to see you again. I'm told we needed to talk."
"Yes. Please sit down. Coffee?"
"No thanks, I must have gone through a couple of pots
on the train." He pulled out the chair across the table and sat down.
"If you don't mind me saying, you seem in a better mood
than last week."
"I think this deal can really work for all of us. I
have to admit that I had reservations before but now I believe that my concerns
can all be taken care of."
Gerhard nodded. "There are always ways," then
added quickly, "Ways that will work for both parties."
"Yes, that's it exactly. First, though, what do we need
to discuss?"
Before replying, he put his paper on the chair next to him
and reached for the coffee cup, allowing him to unobtrusively survey the
surroundings for anyone who might be a not so casual observer. Satisfied that
no one else seemed interested in their conversation, Waldman leaned toward Kent
and spoke in a soft voice, maintaining a casual non-conspiratorial appearance.
Just two businessmen conducting some private transaction. "The salesman
from the other company, Mr. S, I believe, will be giving your man a picture of
his ward to prevent him from being falsely directed to anyone else. He will be
instructed to ask her to take him to a certain place that she knows, a place
where something occurred or perhaps a place they visited on some special
occasion. She knows nothing about the product or that it was hidden at this
location. Your man will have been told the details of how to locate the package
once they reach the place where it was left. They each have half of the key."
"That is clever; simple and effective. But I have the
feeling that you have your countermeasures ready; which is probably why I'm
here."
"Sie haben richtig. You are right. I will have the girl
removed from her apartment and held in a secure location while one of my own
operatives takes up residence in her place. When your man arrives she will find
out from him the instructions necessary to get to the package."
"But how will she know where to go. What he has to say
will have meaning only to Schroe...to the salesman's girlfriend."
"That presents only the slightest of delays, not really
a problem at all. Remember, we will be holding the girl. She is a civilian,
relatively sheltered and inexperienced. It will be easy to make her tell us the
meaning of his message." Waldman could sense the unease building in Kent
and he immediately ratcheted down his intensity, made his voice assume a more
comforting tone, his face a more compassionate appearance before continuing.
"She is known to be so very naïve; it will not be necessary to use force.
It is likely that even the threat of violence will be unnecessary. I am certain
that she can be tricked into revealing what we need. For instance we can tell
her that we are friends of her beloved Heinrich, sent to fetch her and to retrieve
something of great importance that will protect both of them in the chaotic
times ahead. That we must keep her out of sight for her own safety. That we
have to maintain a pretense of holding her against her will for her own safety.
You see, my friend," and the lack of any negative response or change in
facial expression on Kent's part at the use of that term was not lost on
Gerhard, "there are many subterfuges of a, how shall I say, more gentle
nature that we can use to extract the information we need."
"I can see that you're good at this business. I would
assume that once our man arrives at the location the material will already have
been retrieved and, with nothing else for him to do, he'll make his way back as
best he can. Simply another deal that didn't work out."
"Yes, of course, you are right again. I can see that
you, too, know your business, and I can also see that your attitude about our
little project seems more positive."
For the briefest of moments Kent's face clouded over to be
quickly replaced by a smile that became a grin as he responded, "I can see
a bigger picture now; mutual benefits, something to be gained from this rotten
war that neither of us wanted and probably didn't do shit for either of our
careers —— a better life for all of us when it's over. As we say,
'I'm on board now,' I really want this deal to work." SS General Gerhard
Waldman smiled back, not because he agreed with anything Kent had said, but
because it had been so easy to manipulate this novice. "Now, why am I
here?"
"The rival salesman has sent a picture of his young
woman to your company where it will be passed on to our mutual friend, Mr. T.,
to be given to the salesman who will soon depart for Germany." He reached
into the pocket of his gray tweed blazer and extracted a small manila envelope.
Handing it to Mallory he said, "You must bring this to your partner as
soon as possible. It contains a photograph of the woman who will be in the
apartment, and it has to be substituted for the other picture." Kent grasped
it between thumb and forefinger, balancing the edge of the small packet on the
table top while Gerhard continued, "My sources tell me that he has written
a simple recognition code on the back of the photo, one sentence or phrase that
your man must say and a set response from Maria."
"Maria?"
"Excuse me, I failed to mention that his young lady is
named 'Maria'. It is important that this code be added to what I have given you
before it gets to the traveler and it is crucial that Maria's response be sent
to me immediately so I can get it to my woman. I am afraid I will have to ask
you to come to Lugano one more time to bring it to me. Because of the relative
proximity of this place to my area of command I can meet you here; Bern is too
far for me to travel with any certainty or security. I hope you don't
mind."
"No trouble, my friend. Besides, they have good coffee
on the train. There is one more thing, though. This other salesman; we've never
discussed what will happen to him. He will be told that his merchandise could
not be picked up, and our man will return without his young lady. He's certain
to start asking questions, protesting to us as well as to the head of our
company that there was some sort of double cross. Mr. T. and I can handle
anything directed at us but if our boss gets wind of the problem he's sure to
start investigating on his own. We could be really fucked."
"What would you suggest?"
"Do you think he would go along with our business plan
if he were offered a share of the profits? Maybe you could arrange to get his
girl out of Germany."
"Although he would probably do almost anything to
protect his girl I believe he has become far too idealistic and committed to
join us."
"I'm worried about what he might do."
"So am I."
"Well, what would you suggest?"
"That you leave it to me." Waldman was amazed that
he could be so naïve and was surprised that Templeton hadn't explained to him
the necessity of killing Schroeder."
"Ah, I know what you're implying but that too could
lead to problems. Don't you think it's worth trying another way?"
"Any word of this to him before the operation starts
and everything is in jeopardy including us."
This idiot may be the
greatest jeopardy of all. He has to be controlled and, for the moment,
placated.
"Hmm."
"I'll tell you what. Once the project is safely
underway I'll contact him and make some delicate inquiries. Then we can make a
decision based on his response."
"OK, that seems reasonable and may be best all the way
around. Well, if there's nothing else I guess I'm off to the station. I think I
could just make the afternoon train back."
"Until our next meeting, then." Gerhard stood and
held out his hand. Kent slipped the envelope into the inside pocket of his
jacket then grasped Waldman's hand before turning and starting off in a brisk
walk back the way he had come.
Kent felt that he had accomplished a great deal, that he had
made a contribution that could ultimately make the plan better, or at least
safer, and safe was important for him. Waldman, on the other hand, felt that there
was now an unexpected complication, an extraneous player that had to be dealt
with. Should he handle things himself or try to arrange a meeting with
Templeton? He wasn't used to consulting with anyone when it came to command
decisions, but although he was a major player in this he was not really the one
in charge. It would be at least two days until Mallory returned. He would sleep
on it.
Kent sat in the first class club car, a scotch and soda in
his hand, and gazed out the window as the green landscape swept by, dotted with
small lakes and streams. Mountain peaks stood out in the distance, the late
afternoon sun reflecting off their snow covered tops. His lids fluttered until
the scenery rushing by blurred, and he set down his drink and settled deeper into
the seat. He remembered the picture in his pocket and pulled out the manila
envelope, bending back the metal clips that sealed it to retrieve a black and
white photograph with touches of color brushed on. Looking down at the picture
Kent saw the image of a stunning young woman, the lips full and red and the
eyes sultry and somehow mesmerizing. She looked familiar and as he stared, Kent
was sure he had seen her before but could not think of where. He replaced the
picture, stowed the envelope back in his jacket, took another sip of scotch and
leaned back once more into the well padded seat, staring out the window and
thinking about the face on the picture. His eyes started to shut again and just
before dozing off he remembered where he had seen that face. The woman at the
rail along the strand in Lugano was Waldman's agent. Was that of any
significance, he wondered. The answer never came, only the click clack of the
rails lulling him to sleep as the train sped to Bern through the darkening
landscape.