“I have never felt like risking a broken leg without good reason,” Strang stated. “Or worse.”

  “A little adventure would be good for you, Erich.”

  “As long as it doesn’t involve my catching a bullet in the leg. That was unpleasant.”

  “Mein Gott, that was frightening,” Gerhard exclaimed. “If I haven’t told you this, I am glad you survived and recovered. I don’t like losing my friends.”

  Strang seemed embarrassed and said nothing. They continued walking

  Strang steered them into a Bierkeller. “And here we are.”

  This was a small establishment with a cook and a single server. The humid warmth and the familiar smell of cooking meat seemed comforting and familiar. Strang immediately walked to a table in the back corner and slid into the chair next to the wall, leaving the other chair for Wicklein.

  “This place looks promising,” Gerhard said. “Have you eaten here before?”

  “I come here from time to time. It’s not bad.”

  “What to drink, gentlemen?” The server said as she walked up to the table.

  She slipped a couple of typewritten menus in front of them as she waited.

  “Lager for me,” Strang said.

  “The same for me,” Wicklein replied.

  She quickly moved away as she was covering the whole restaurant. Gerhard picked up the menu and studied it.

  “What’s good here?”

  “The beef is not great, but the pork is reliably good.”

  The waitress set the drinks on the table and looked at them expectantly.

  “Sausage and potatoes for me,” Strang said.

  “I guess I will have the same. It sounds good.”

  She swept off again, and they sipped their lager. Gerhard looked at the SS lieutenant expectantly.

  “Is your team ready to go?” Strang asked.

  “Yes. We have given them practice with their pistols, and they know what is expected of them. What about you?”

  “We are ready. I don’t look forward to storming the SS Headquarters, but it will have to be done if there is to be any hope for success.”

  “I don’t really expect any problems at the party headquarters, Gerhard said. “Any idea of when we might expect something to happen?”

  “I don’t know, but I think it will be soon. The two Heinrichs are exasperated with each other, so I expect some event will trigger action on the part of one or the other. With Herr Rainer in the hospital, I am not hearing much.”

  “Same here,” Gerhard said. “Do you have any feel for our chances of success?”

  Strang set his mug down and stirred the condensation on the table with his finger. It looked to Gerhard like he was thinking carefully.

  “Herr Schloss doesn’t plan to lose,” Strang said. “That counts for a lot. So far, I don’t think Himmler has become aware of our plans. The key is getting control of the SS. The Wehrmacht should not present any great problems. And, of course, we control the party. The bureaucracy will probably ignore everything, as it usually does.”

  “Anything I can do to help?” Gerhard asked.

  “I don’t know, Gerhard. I think we will both have our hands full.”

  “I understand.”

  The server slid their platters on the table, and they began to eat. Gerhard cut a piece of sausage and started chewing on it. He nodded to Strang.

  “You’re right, as usual. I’ve had better, but this is not bad.”

  “It is convenient,” Strang smiled, “and as you said, it’s not bad.”

  § § §

  December 11, 1941, 10:30 PM

  Wicklein Residence

  Berlin, Germany

  The polite tinkle of the telephone roused Gerhard from a sound sleep. He quickly stumbled from the bedroom to where the instrument sat on a table in the sitting room. He turned on a lamp as he picked up the receiver.

  “Wicklein.”

  “I think you need to come into the office,” Rainer said.

  “Are we executing?” Wicklein asked.

  “Not at this time, but events are in motion.”

  “Very well. I should be there in fifteen minutes.”

  Rainer hung up without speaking further. Gerhard looked at the clock, ticking quietly on the table beside the phone. Was it really only 10:30? He had been asleep for just thirty minutes. He walked back to the bedroom to retrieve his clothes.

  “What is happening, Darling?” Katlin asked.

  “I’m not sure. Karl asked me to come into the office. He wouldn’t do that unless it was serious.”

  “Karl is back at the office?” she asked, shocked.

  “Apparently,” Gerhard said. “Someone must have called him.”

  “But he just got out of the hospital. He will end up back there again if he’s not careful.”

  “That is out of my hands, Katlin,” Gerhard said, pulling on his socks. “Herr Schloss can get him to listen occasionally. Other than that, he does as he pleases.”

  “He needs a wife.”

  “Who would be willing to put up with him?” he asked.

  “Oh, tush, Gerhard. “He needs someone who understands how driven he can be. Perhaps I should start looking.”

  Gerhard smiled as he finished tying his shoes and stood. “And do you think Karl would appreciate that?”

  “Of course not. I simply have to meet his sister. Together I am sure we can work something out.”

  He leaned over to kiss her. “I don’t know what the day will hold, but I will call if I can.”

  “Be careful, Darling.”

  The last snowfall was two days before, but the efficient Germans had cleared the sidewalks and streets. The sun had melted some of the snow during the day, and the puddles had refrozen. Gerhard walked carefully to avoid a fall. He had parked the Opel Kadett in the street, and it started immediately. He wished the car had a heater since it was very cold.

  Naturally, the motor pool gate was closed, so he parked in the street across from the Party Headquarters. Schlempke had placed extra guards at the doors, and he noticed several other guards patrolling outside the building. He was glad someone was paying attention, although it was probably a miserable night for the guard.

  “You ID, please, Herr Wicklein,” one of the guards at the door said.

  Wicklein looked up quickly to see a twinkle in the guard’s eye.

  “Herr Rainer said we were to check everyone entering the building.”

  Gerhard pulled out his wallet and flipped it open to display his party ID and badge. “Far be it from me to suggest Herr Rainer is not on the job.”

  “Of course not, mein Herr. You may pass.”

  The elevator operator was not present during the evening, of course, so he ran up the stairs to the fourth floor, taking two steps at a time. He was surprised to be slightly winded when he reached the office. Either Katlin fed him too well, or he needed more exercise or both.

  Rainer sat at a desk in the center office, talking on the telephone. He hung up as Wicklein walked up.

  “That was quick, Gerhard,” Rainer said.

  “It is not very far. What do you need?”

  “To bring you up to date, Herr Hess gave a speech tonight, and the Gestapo tried to arrest him. There was a riot in the theatre, and the Gestapo shot Hess. He is dead.”

  “What is that American expression you told me, Karl? Hell has let out for lunch.”

  “I think you have the sense of it. I need you to work out here and take care of the phones.”

  Rainer looked up as Ludwig Pankow walked into the office. “On second thought.”

  “I heard the news about Hess. I thought I should be here,” Pankow said.

  “Thank you for coming in,” Rainer said. “I need you to cover the phones. Gerhard, come into my office. We need to review our next actions.”

  Gerhard glanced over at the two guards standing by the door to Schloss’s office. He looked back at Rainer.

  “Is he here?” he asked, nodding toward the Parteileiter’s door.

  “He has been here all evening. He has been calling all the Gauleiters and Party Directors to get them up to date on events. But, come.”

  Rainer levered himself out of the chair with a groan. Gerhard looked at him with concern.

  “Never mind me,” Rainer said with some asperity. “I’m well enough to come to the office.”

  “Just don’t step in the way of any more bullets,” Gerhard responded.

  “I don’t plan to,” Rainer growled.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  December 12, 1941, 6:00 PM

  Nazi Party Headquarters

  Berlin, Germany

  Gerhard Wicklein felt like he had been imprisoned. He and Pankow had ventured out of the building briefly several times during the day in an attempt to gauge the mood of the public. People had begun gathering around the Reich Chancellery about midday, and the crowd continued to grow.

  Rainer and the Parteileiter had remained at the Chancellery for nearly two days straight, and things were tense. Word of Hess’s death at the hands of the Gestapo had spread rapidly, and the people were outraged.

  “What do you think is going to happen?” Pankow asked.

  “Things are unpredictable,” Wicklein replied. “The Gestapo actions have put Himmler in a difficult position, and I don’t know whether he will try to force the issue with the rest of the Council.”

  The two men sat in the small meeting room, working on the sandwiches that Margrethe had brought in. The office worker was one of the few women that worked in the Parteileiter’s office. Along with several others, she had remained at her desk during this time and had been helpful.

  “What will the Parteileiter try to do, then?” Pankow asked.

  “It’s hard to tell,” Gerhard replied. “In his contest with Bormann, he was reluctant to act until he had no choice. He has been more aggressive since Hitler’s death, so I hope he will take direct action again.”

  “And if Himmler kills him?”

  “Then we are all in grave danger.”

  “You are not very reassuring, Gerhard.”

  “This is a very dangerous time, Ludwig.”

  “It looks like we will be here all night again,” Gerhard’s assistant said.

  Gerhard nodded. “Probably true. With the people in the streets, Schloss or Himmler will force the issue sooner rather than later.”

  Wicklein rubbed his face and felt the bristles. “I would like to go home and get cleaned up, but we must wait. I have a razor in my travel bag, so I think I will visit the toilet and see what I can do for myself. Afterward, you can borrow my razor if you want.”

  “Thank you. That sounds like a good idea.”

  Margrethe tapped on the door and opened it. “Herr Wicklein, Herr Rainer is on the telephone for you.”

  “I will be right there.” Wicklein stood and walked quickly to the door.

  “How are things at the party headquarters?” Rainer asked.

  “Very quiet. It looks like all of the activity is at the Chancellery. Can you tell me what is happening with the Council?”

  “They have not been able to agree on moving forward. I want you to be alert. Himmler may try to force the issue with the intervention battalions. Make sure that your team is alert in case they try to occupy the Party Headquarters.”

  “So you think things will begin to happen soon?”

  “I think so,” Rainer replied. “The crowd outside seems to be growing, and it’s cold out there. I think Himmler expected them to disperse at nightfall. That didn’t happen.”

  “This is going to get messy,” Wicklein said.

  “I hope not. But things are at a very dangerous stage. I must go now, Gerhard.”

  Rainer hung up abruptly. Wicklein studied the telephone receiver in his hand as he thought quickly. He set it down and returned to the meeting room.

  “Ludwig, is our special team in the building?”

  “Yes, Herr Wicklein. Will they be needed?”

  “I hope not. But station them at all of the entry doors. Herr Rainer fears that the SS may try to occupy the building.”

  Pankow set his Knockwurst sandwich down and stood. “I will do so immediately.”

  “I’m going to check on the door guards,” Wicklein said.

  He trotted downstairs to the first floor and walked quickly to the main entrance. The party guards had been rotating in and out of the front door because of the cold, but they seemed alert.

  “Has it stayed quiet out here?” Wicklein asked.

  “Yes, Herr Wicklein. The streets here are very quiet.”

  “Stay alert,” he said. “We may have a group try to occupy this building, and we can’t allow it.”

  The guard turned to face Gerhard. “Can you give me some more information, Herr Wicklein?”

  “It may be Wehrmacht or SS, but we can’t allow them to enter.”

  “If it’s the Wehrmacht,” the guard said, “we will be outgunned.”

  “We will just have to do the best we can. I am working on getting some reinforcements.”

  As he spoke, a half-dozen party members with pistols and rifles came out of the stairwell and moved to the doorway. Wicklein turned to them.

  “As I just instructed the guards, we may have a group try to occupy this building, which cannot be allowed. Do whatever you need to stop them.”

  “Of course, mein Herr,” one of the men said.

  Wicklein checked the other entryways and discovered that Ludwig had assembled a larger force than he had anticipated. There were close to thirty party members prepared to defend the premises.

  After returning to the office, Gerhard pointed to Ludwig and then pointed to his office. Pankow followed him in as Wicklein settled in his chair.

  “I thought you told me you had six people on the team, Ludwig.”

  “That is correct, Herr Wicklein. I recruited six men.”

  “There have got to be thirty men downstairs guarding the doors, not that I’m complaining, of course.”

  Pankow turned pale. “Somebody has been talking, then. I had cautioned them to keep this quiet.”

  “Once the dust settles, maybe I can have a word with them,” Wicklein commented.

  “If we are still alive afterward,” Pankow said.

  “Between the Parteileiter and Herr Rainer, I think we will be all right.”

  Pankow nodded. “You said something about a razor?”

  “Thanks for reminding me,” Gerhard said. “Let me go scrape my face, and then I’ll let you have at it.”

  Fifteen minutes later, Wicklein was back at his desk. Besides shaving, he was able to wash up at the small sink in the water closet. He returned to his desk after sending Pankow on the same errand. He wondered if the crisis would be resolved tonight. He had gotten several hours of sleep by curling up on the floor behind his desk the night before. But it was not comfortable. He wanted to be home in bed next to Katlin.

  Margrethe carried a plate of pastries in and set it on his desk.

  “Oh, thank you,” he said. “I don’t know where you find these. These are still warm!”

  “There is a small apartment in the basement. I used the oven to bake these. I hope it was okay.”

  He laid his index finger on one side of his nose. “Your secret is safe with me, Margrethe. This is wonderful.”

  She giggled as she walked out of his office. It was clear to him why she had never married. He thought she looked like the wicked witch in the Hansel and Gretel story, but he thought she was a sweet lady.

  A few moments later, she rushed back into his office.

  “Herr Wicklein, trucks are pulling up in front of the building.”

  Gerhard jumped to his feet and walked quickly into the Parteileiter’s office, where he could look out the window at the street below. Men in SS uniforms and carrying rifles were climbing out of the trucks.

  “Get your gun, Ludwig; we’ve got trouble downstairs,” Gerhard shouted as he ran to his office to retrieve his pistol.

  Pankow followed Gerhard as they ran from the office. Margrethe stood to one side with her hands over her mouth. The two men clattered down the stairs and got to the front entrance about the time an SS major got to the door.

  “Step aside, meine Herren,” the SS major said. “We need to secure this building for the safety of the Reich.”

  “I think not, Herr Major. This building is under the party's control and will remain that way.”

  “You will not disregard the will of the state,” the SS major barked.

  Gerhard stuck his pistol into the major’s stomach. “I don’t know how this will turn out, Major, but you will certainly die if you try to force the issue.”

  “I don’t believe you and two guards will be able to stop a platoon,” the major sneered.

  “Look behind me, Herr Major,” Gerhard said.

  The major quickly glanced behind Gerhard, where he could see Pankow and members of the team with their guns aimed.

  The SS major took a deep breath. “Perhaps we can discuss this, mein Herr.”

  “No, Herr Major, there is no point in having a discussion.”

  “But there is unrest in the streets tonight. Your building is insecure.”

  “We are perfectly capable of securing the building. Get your men back in the trucks and leave. We have things under control here. My men are nervous. We don’t want to have an accident here tonight.”

  The man glared at Wicklein but was unable to burn through his determination. Finally, he turned around and marched down the steps waving his men to the trucks.

  Gerhard stood and watched as they loaded and the trucks rolled down the street. He turned to one of the guards.

  “I guess we don’t die tonight,” he said.

  “Yes, Herr Wicklein,” the guard chuckled nervously.

  Gerhard walked through the door and faced a very relieved-looking Pankow.

  “I think I need to sit down for a few minutes, Ludwig. My legs suddenly feel shaky.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  December 12, 1941, 8:00 PM

  Nazi Party Headquarters

  Berlin, Germany

  “Go home, Margrethe,” Wicklein said.

 

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