“I understand, Herr Wicklein. This is important.”

  “I want two things, Ludwig. The first is to identify anyone who works in this building who would be a threat to Herr Schloss. Secondly, we need to identify a small group of people who are not afraid to take action to protect the Reich.”

  “When do you want to begin?” Pankow asked.

  “I suppose there is no time like the present.”

  “Allow me to retrieve my notebook,” Pankow said. “We can begin listing the names of people we don’t trust.”

  “We need a secure place to store the list,” Wicklein said.

  “Doesn’t Herr Rainer have a safe in his office?”

  “He does, but I don’t have access to it. Perhaps we can buy one for my office. We do have a lot of sensitive documents flowing through here.”

  “Would you need permission to do something like that?” Pankow asked.

  “Probably I should ask Karl. But I think we’ll just do it. If he doesn’t like it, he will yell at me, and that will be the end of it. In the morning, I’ll tell Brucks to get something ordered.”

  “You are a braver man than I am, Herr Wicklein.”

  “If this goes like I think it will, Ludwig, you will need a stout heart. I am not brave. I just do whatever I must. Don’t worry about Rainer.”

  “What about weapons?”

  “I will ask Karl about issuing weapons,” Wicklein said. “That’s something I dare not do on my own. We will need to make sure our team knows how to handle pistols. I will have to arrange for training and practice. It would be better to select people who have been in the army. I don’t suppose I need to tell you that this needs to be kept quiet as the grave.”

  “I understand, Herr Wicklein. I did my turn in the Luftwaffe and know how to use a pistol.”

  “Good. Now let’s develop some scenarios. Maybe we can identify the mistakes before we make them.”

  “That would certainly be nice.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  November 3, 1941, 12:15 PM

  Haus Eidelweiss

  Berlin, Germany

  “The food here is not very good,” Erich Strang commented.

  Gerhard shrugged as he bit into his Bratwurst sandwich.

  “We didn’t come here for the delightful food. It’s close to the office and discreet.”

  “You make it sound like an assignation. I’m not that kind of a boy.”

  “You are disgusting,” Gerhard commented. “I wanted to talk about our current mission, and, sadly, we are probably more secure here than at the Party headquarters.”

  “At least people will think we just went out for lunch,” Strang said. “Whenever I walk into your office and shut the door, people wonder what we are up to.”

  “Isn’t that the truth?”

  “I assume Herr Rainer spoke to you about what might happen with Herr Schloss in the near future?” Strang asked.

  “Yes. He tasked me with securing the Party Headquarters. I understand you will be involved in neutering the SS. I don’t envy you, Erich.”

  “It will be interesting. The SS already views me with suspicion because I spend more time at Party Headquarters than in the SS offices.”

  “Hopefully, they won’t have time to react,” Gerhard said. “If Schloss pulls the trigger on this, we will have to move fast and hard. Identifying possible threats in the Party headquarters will be a challenge. It’s probably easier for you.”

  Strang chuckled. “Right. Everybody in the SS Headquarters is a threat. I don’t know why I even joined that group.”

  Gerhard just smiled at him.

  “Shut up, Gerhard,” Strang said.

  “I didn’t say anything.”

  “You didn’t need to,” Strang replied. “Besserwisser, smart aleck.”

  “Seriously, Erich, I wanted to pick your brain about how you plan this. The operation is a little outside of my experience.”

  “I’m not exactly a fount of knowledge on this topic, either,” Strang said. “I just plan to proceed with speed and overwhelming firepower.”

  “I’ve got Pankow identifying Party members who support Schloss and have military experience. They need to be able to handle a pistol, anyway.”

  “You can’t hit anything with a pistol,” the SS lieutenant stated. “They are not accurate enough.”

  “When you put the pistol to somebody’s temple, accuracy is not really a problem.”

  “You do have a point, there,” Strang said.

  “But may I suggest,” Gerhard said, “that if we have to start shooting, we will have failed?”

  “If we succeed, I wouldn’t consider a little bloodletting a failure. It might be less than optimum, but we would still get the job done. Given the circumstances, we should both be prepared to shoot first and ask questions later.”

  Gerhard had picked up his mug and set it down again.

  “I think there will be people who are unhappy with Herr Schloss but will keep their heads down and go on with their lives.”

  “That’s risky. Somebody like that may be biding their time. I don’t want something like that to sneak up and bite me on the rear. I think we need to be aggressive about this.”

  “So you think we ought to shoot a few people por encourager les autres?” Wicklein asked. “That makes us no better than Stalin.”

  “So you are speaking French now?” Strang shot back.

  “The phrase fits. I read it somewhere.”

  “No, you are right, Gerhard. I don’t propose that we should shoot random people. But we must react quickly to a clear threat.”

  “I suppose I can’t argue with that,” Wicklein replied. “I think we need to follow Herr Rainer’s example. If he sees a threat, he deals with it immediately.”

  Gerhard remembered his first trip to Hamburg as a courier and how he dealt with three Gestapo thugs preparing to murder an elderly Jewish man. He concluded he was still ruthless enough to do the job.

  “What were you thinking just now?” Strang asked.

  “The times we had to take direct action in the past.”

  “Exactly. And you didn’t hesitate.”

  Gerhard hoped that Strang didn’t know exactly what he had done. There were some things you just didn’t talk about.

  “There were times when I did what was necessary,” Wicklein said. “But there was no doubt about who the enemy was in each case. This will be a little different. These will be people I work with every day.”

  “And you probably already know which people you need to beware of. That’s all I’m saying.”

  “Given the situation, I think you will have to kill everyone on the top floor of the SS Headquarters. We can march into the Party Headquarters and announce the leadership changes. I think we won’t have anyone getting stupid.”

  “Probably true.”

  They both looked up as a young couple sat at the table next to theirs.

  “Still reading your speculative fiction, Erich?” Wicklein asked.

  Strang smiled and nodded at the change of subject.

  “I feel like I’m living it,” he replied.

  “How do you mean?”

  “Everything is changing. Who would have expected the events we have seen recently? The Führer’s death. And now Herr Schloss is working to change practically everything. Don’t misunderstand; I think it’s great.”

  Gerhard took some of his Bratwurst to give himself time to think.

  “Are you avoiding this, Gerhard?” Strang asked with a smile.

  Wicklein nodded to the next table. “We can discuss that later.”

  The rest of the meal involved innocuous conversation. They climbed into the car for the ride back to the office. Strang looked over as Wicklein put the key in the ignition.

  “You were saying?”

  “I was thinking about how much Herr Schloss has changed since Hitler died,” Gerhard replied. “It’s like he’s a different person.”

  “Everyone has noticed that. But, I think it’s a change for the better.”

  “I hope so. But that sidesteps the question. Why has he changed?”

  “The shock of losing his wife. The shock of seeing Hitler die. Things like that have an effect on people. He certainly has moved aggressively of late.”

  “And he acts like he doesn’t remember me.”

  “And me,” Strang said. “That is where I would agree with you. I can’t explain it.”

  They pulled into the parking lot for the party vehicles.

  “All right,” Wicklein said, “Let’s get back to work.”

  § § §

  November 8, 1941, 8 PM

  Wicklein Residence

  Berlin, Germany

  The late fall wind seemed biting tonight. It made the evening walk less than pleasant. But when Gerhard’s father-in-law suggested a stroll, it was because he had something to say. Katlin’s parents had arrived that morning on the train for a weekend visit, which made for an enjoyable time despite the crowded apartment.

  Otto Harpe was forcing the pace just a bit, Wicklein thought. It was likely an effort to stay warm.

  “Sorry to drag you out in this, Gerhard,” Otto said, “but we needed to talk.”

  “How might I help you, mein Herr?”

  “Please, call me Otto. I wanted to talk about the situation in Germany.”

  “The times are interesting,” Gerhard responded, trying to be noncommittal.

  “Katrin and I have decided to sell out and move to the United States,” Otto blurted.

  Gerhard stared at him. “Are you serious?”

  “This country is in the grip of a great evil. I believe it will eventually be destroyed. I have my family to consider. And I would like you to consider leaving with us.”

  “I have to ask… Otto, if you think the Nazis will allow you to leave the country? And will they allow you to take your fortune with you?”

  “I think I can accomplish that. I hoped you would have some contacts in the Party that would help us.”

  Gerhard blew on his hands and stuck them back in his pockets. “I don’t know. This is a surprise. I know you have mentioned this before, but I didn’t expect you to do it.”

  “I probably should have done this years ago. But I am now convinced that it’s now or never.”

  “What happened that brought you to this point?” Gerhard asked.

  “The Gestapo hauled off a friend, Jonas Goldfarb and took his business. That man is not an enemy of the Reich. He fought in the Wehrmacht during the great war. But he is now destroyed because he is a Jew.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. Do you think you are under a direct threat? I can talk to Karl Rainer, and we can make the threat go away.”

  “For how long?”

  Gerhard looked both ways and behind them. “Maybe permanently.”

  “What are you planning, Gerhard?” Otto asked.

  “I’m not high enough in the party to plan something like that. But Karl and I have made plans to control the Party Headquarters should something happen.”

  “Not much is said in the papers about the Parteileiter,” Harpe said. “Is he planning a putsch?”

  “He is planning to protect himself from Himmler. And I have probably said too much.”

  “And if Himmler kills Schloss, what will happen?”

  “I don’t think he will,” Gerhard said. “And a group of us are prepared to support him if it comes to a showdown.”

  “I have planned a business trip to Italy for early February. I make a seasonal buying trip at that time every year. I will take the whole family along as a vacation, you know. And we’ll leave from Italy to travel to America.”

  “What about your business?” Wicklein asked.

  “I have a buyer for the store. He can get the money into Switzerland. I can have it wired to a correspondent bank in New York.”

  “I don’t want to argue against what you are doing, Herr Harpe….”

  “Please, it’s Otto.”

  “Very well, Otto. We live in dangerous times. If you can safely escape Germany without being arrested, I would find it hard to discourage you. And if things don’t change by February, we may go with you. I fear for the safety of Katlin and the boys.”

  “I will be happy to pay for your passage,” the older man volunteered.

  “I think we are getting ahead of ourselves,” Gerhard stated. “All I can say is wait and watch. I think something will happen soon, and it may change the situation here enough that you will want to stay.”

  “We have some time, I guess,” Otto replied. “But we will continue to prepare to leave. I want to leave my legacy in a free country for my family.”

  “Are you getting cold yet?” Gerhard asked.

  “I’m freezing.”

  “Let’s go back to the house and have some coffee.”

  “You have very good coffee,” Otto said.

  “The Parteileiter brought a couple of twenty-five-kilo bags back from Portugal and gave one to Karl Rainer. Rainer shared with me.”

  Otto Harpe spun around and began walking back to the Wicklein apartment. Gerhard had to trot to catch up.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  November 7, 1941, 6:50 PM

  Nazi Party Headquarters

  Berlin, Germany

  Gerhard sat in Rainer’s office and nursed a final cup of coffee for the day. Rainer had more in his decanter than he could drink, and the coffee was too good to waste. They had spent most of the afternoon in the room reserved for the Jewish Resettlement Project. This was complicated because they had put things into gear even as they designed the program.

  “Are you making progress on your special project?” Rainer asked.

  “Putting this together was easier than I expected. I have a team in place, and they are enthusiastic about helping.”

  “How much have you told them?”

  “Just that they are a quick reaction force and should remain available for any exceptional needs.” Gerhard continued, “Having a shooting range in the basement is a nice bonus. I have been able to check out everyone on their pistols.”

  “That’s good to hear. Perhaps when you have a moment tomorrow, please give me a list of your team members. I need to memorize it and then destroy the list.”

  “I will do so. I hope Strang is making good progress on his part of the project.”

  “The lieutenant is making progress,” Rainer said. “The problem is that nobody at the SS Headquarters trusts him.”

  “It’s a little different here,” Gerhard commented. “Everybody loves me.”

  Rainer was lining himself up for a riposte when they heard Schloss.

  “Rainer, have the car brought around. It’s time to go home.”

  “At once, Herr Parteileiter,” Rainer yelled.

  He immediately picked up his phone and dialed a number.

  “It’s Rainer. Have the Parteileiter’s car brought around. Thank you.”

  Rainer stood. “Now, Gerhard, if you will excuse me. Duty calls.”

  “Of course. I think I’ll head home too. Maybe it will surprise Katlin.”

  Rainer slipped past Gerhard and left the office. Gerhard returned to his desk and sorted the paperwork to be locked up before leaving. He glanced over at the Doettling safe that occupied the corner. It had arrived that morning, so he had a secure place to store sensitive documents. Pankow was delighted. Rainer looked in after the delivery people left and nodded in approval. Gerhard guessed his boss appreciated his initiative.

  Wicklein’s musings were interrupted by the sound of gunfire outside. He quickly grabbed his coat and double-checked the pistol in its holster. He then ran through the office toward the stairs. He was met by the Party guard force as those men also headed for the lobby.

  “Do you know what is going on?” he asked the guard leader, Alden Schlempke.

  “Probably no more than you do at the moment,” Schlempke replied. He was puffing from the exertion. “But I can guarantee you it’s not something we need in front of the headquarters.”

  They reached the lobby as random shots continued.

  “Wait here, Herr Wicklein,” Schlempke said.

  The guard force ran through the door and then dropped to the ground to avoid the fresh fusillade of gunfire. The heavy reinforcements overwhelmed the attackers with concentrated rifle fire, and the fighting soon stopped. Schlempke opened the door and motioned for Wicklein to come out.

  “What have we got, Alden?” Gerhard asked.

  “The assailants are dead. Herr Rainer has been wounded. An army ambulance is on the way. I suggest we send him to the hospital in Potsdam.”

  Wicklein had vivid memories of that place.

  “I agree. Make it so, Alden. So, none of our people were hit besides Karl?”

  “Correct. I believe whoever attacked underestimated our response.”

  Gerhard walked over to where Rainer lay on the sidewalk. One of the guards was placing a bandage over the wound. Karl lay with his eyes open.

  “Still with us, Karl?”

  “Yes,” he replied through clenched teeth. “This really hurts.”

  “Try not to move until the medics get here.”

  “Oh, you can be assured of that.”

  He then walked over to study the bodies of the attackers.

  “These look like SS, Herr Wicklein,” one of the guards said.

  “Funny, I thought the same thing.”

  The guard pushed up the sleeve on one of the bodies. “No tattoo.”

  “That means they weren’t SS regulars,” Gerhard replied. “But I’d bet they were on Himmler’s payroll.”

  “I don’t think I would dispute that.”

  “Very well,” Gerhard said as he turned to walk back to Schlempke.

  “Do you have a place that can function as a makeshift morgue, Alden?”

  “What do you have in mind, Herr Wicklein.”

  “I want you to strip the bodies and look for anything that reveals their identity. Then transport them somewhere so you can bury them quietly.”

  “Mein Herr, it’s almost a sure bet that whoever guided this had a watcher in the neighborhood.”

  “I agree, but if we can sow confusion, it will work in our favor.”

  “I understand. Let me get busy.”

  “Of course.”

 

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