Vengeance 10

by Joe Poyer

  Von Braun’s depression was so obvious that Bethwig clapped him on the shoulder. ‘Come, Wernher. It isn’t that bad. Heydrich is an intelligent and very powerful man, more so than ever now that he is going to France. At least he will be in a position to make certain the group of labourers sent to us contains a large number of trained scientists and technicians. And you certainly showed that you could handle him tonight. He backed off immediately when you stood up to him.’

  In the blue light from the hooded blackout lamp above the road Bethwig could see von Braun shake his head. ‘I don’t think so. My impression is that he never deviates once he has set his path. Your visits to Prague are merely one more element in his strategy. He isolates you in that damned castle and persuades you to do things that you know are impossible.’

  ‘Oh, come now, Wernher . . .’ Bethwig objected. Although he knew von Braun was right, the thought of seeing Inge once more overrode his misgivings.

  ‘Don’t scoff.’ He faced Bethwig. ‘He is like the devil tempting Christ; he shows you all the world’s treasures, then offers them to you in exchange for your soul. And the damnable thing is, you know that he can deliver. How do you think these people gain and keep the allegiance of so many people? Simply by bribery. What do you want? Money, power, women? Once they have you hooked, they threaten you, and their threats are very real. Very real! No, don’t look at me like that. He has done it to us, Franz. He’s offered us what we want most; the opportunity to build a rocket capable of reaching the moon. How long have we dreamed of that? Haven’t we schemed and connived for more than fifteen years to bring it about? He has given us what we want in exchange for our souls - and he means to collect. Wait and see. And if we refuse to pay, well ... you’ve heard the stories just as I have.’

  Spring was in full bloom, Bethwig noted as the Mercedes limousine swung through the streets of Prague. Heydrich had sent his own car this time, a singular honour. The reichsprotektor’s aide engaged him in polite conversation concerning the amenities and shops available at Peenemunde and opportunities to visit Berlin or nearby Denmark until it dawned on Bethwig that the officer was probing subtly into the condition of his wardrobe. If von Braun was correct in his assessment of Heydrich’s reason for inviting him to Hradcany Castle, he could expect a visit from a tailor for which he would never see a bill. Inclined at first to refuse the gift, he quickly changed his mind. Good clothing was becoming expensive, so why not take advantage?

  The tailor indeed appeared and departed with an order for three suits, a dozen shirts, a dinner jacket, several pairs of shoes, and a riding outfit. ‘A gift from the people of Bohemia and Moravia,’ he was told.

  Franz had been impatient to get the fittings over with, but now that the tailor was gone, he had no idea what to do next. On his three previous visits Inge had been waiting for him in the suite. He supposed that he could ring down to reception and enquire about her, but that would certainly be considered bad form. The only other alternative was to wait. He poured a stiff cognac from the well-stocked bar and wandered out on to the balcony. His room was on the third floor overlooking the gardens behind the castle. Standing by the railing in the soft sunshine, sipping his drink, he gazed out over the carefully tended lawn and forest thinking that from this vantage point one would never suspect that half the world was engaged in a war to the death.

  As the afternoon waned, Bethwig’s impatience grew. He quickly exhausted the possibilities of the balcony but was afraid to leave the apartment in case she should come. By four o’clock he was beginning to wonder if he had misjudged the nature of this visit. To occupy his attention, he opened his portfolio and, replenishing his drink, tried to lose himself in calculations for a new nozzle design based on the latest wind-tunnel tests describing supersonic flow.

  He found he could not concentrate. His mind kept turning again and again to Inge, recalling every detail of previous visits. She was not, as he had first thought, a mental defective; rather she lived in a world of her own, and he had pieced together enough of her background to understand why.

  Inge was born in Thuringia to elderly parents who had died within months of one another when she was quite small. A cousin inherited their farm, along with the responsibility for Inge’s care and education. The cousin was a drunkard, his wife a chronic invalid, and before she was twelve, Inge had been raped repeatedly - a not uncommon story in the more isolated rural areas of Germany.

  The child was removed from the farm after neighbours protested to the authorities. Silent and withdrawn, she was several times placed in foster homes but continued her slide into a world of silence and inaction. Finally, she was placed in an institution for mental defectives where she remained until it was taken over by the SS in 1939. Because of her physical beauty she was spared the various ‘experiments and training sessions’ and became instead a plaything for the senior SS officers at the facility. How she had come to Hradcany Castle, Bethwig never found out, as Inge herself did not know. She had no sense of time, cared nothing for anything beyond the parameters of her existence, and was an intensely physical being. Bethwig did not know enough about psychology to do more than guess at an interpretation of her condition, but he had to believe that her nymphomania was in fact a reaction to her treatment as a child and later as an adult by the SS. Whatever, for reasons derived as much from sympathy as sexual need, Bethwig found that he very much cared for the girl.

  Yet there was little that he could do to change her situation; the SS, by virtue of their special legal position, were virtually immune to the normal processes of German law. They were a physical and legal entity apart, and only one man, Reinhard Heydrich, had the power to release her. To obtain that release, Bethwig must please Heydrich.

  Restlessly he pushed himself away from the desk and went out on to the balcony. The sun had swung deep into the west, and a golden haze lay across the vast sweep of lawn. The air was fresh, and the grass was that incredible spring green. Standing on the balcony, Bethwig thought the setting as pleasant as any on Earth.

  ‘Hello, Herr Doktor Bethwig.’

  He turned so fast that cognac spilled from his glass. For a moment he was speechless. Inge, wearing only a flowing, diaphanous negligee, was standing in the doorway, more lovely and desirable than he could remember.

  Light was fading outside when Bethwig lit a cigarette and offered it to Inge. He propped the pillows against the headboard and smiled as she shook her head, stretched languorously, and burrowed against him. ‘Good,’ she murmured.

  Her propensity for framing questions as statements intrigued him. She was so certain of herself, and with good reason. He muttered an answer, and she nipped at his ribs with sharp teeth- He protested and wriggled away. Giggling, Inge pursued him across the wide bed until he was trapped on the edge; then she swarmed over him, all legs and arms and teeth, until he was laughing so he could hardly stand it. She stopped then, and they began to make love again, more slowly and with deeper pleasure than before.

  ‘I understand that dinner was served in your apartment last night.’ Heydrich smiled, I trust you found everything to your satisfaction?’ He was obviously enjoying Bethwig’s embarrassment. ‘Inge is a very lovely woman.’ Heydrich frowned, then went to the window and stood with his back to the room.

  ‘This is difficult for me,’ Heydrich said with some hesitation. ‘I do not want you to misunderstand my meaning. I do not want it to sound like a threat, only a fact, a fact we must all live with.’ He turned back to see Bethwig waiting politely and thought to himself that he had not misjudged this one. Von Braun was a brilliant man but a fool where politics were concerned. This one, a realist, seemed to understand the game. Certainly his father was important enough for him to have learned early. And he is also greedy for what I can give, his stupid moon rocket and the whore.

  ‘So let us get down to cases. Your friend von Braun has become an obstruction. He must be removed as the director of the A-Ten project.’

  Bethwig laughed in spite of his knowledge
that it was dangerous to provoke this man. He could not help himself.

  ‘Herr Reichsprotektor, I would not presume to tell you how to rule Czechoslovakia. You are the expert here. So why, then, do you persist in telling us how to manage a scientific project? In any effort involving groups of people there must always be one person with the ability to make all elements work. Doktor von Braun is that person at Peenemunde. Take him away and your project will never be completed - at least before this war is over.’

  ‘I had it in mind,’ Heydrich said, ‘to appoint you project director in von Braun’s place.’

  Bethwig stared at Heydrich in surprise, then shook his head, ‘It would do no good. I am not a leader. Von Braun is. Colonel Dornberger will tell you the same thing.’

  As if accepting Bethwig’s opinion, Heydrich stretched in the chair, yawned, and patted his mouth with one carefully tended hand. ‘Then what do we do?’

  ‘We, Herr Reichsprotektor?’

  ‘We, Herr Doktor Bethwig. For if I fail in this, we all fail. For me it will be no more than a slap on the wrist. My position is secure. But for you and your friends at Peenemunde it could be worse.’

  ‘In what way?’

  Heydrich gave an elaborate shrug. The research centre could be closed. There is already more than sufficient sentiment for that. You and your friends might then find yourselves in combat units, perhaps on the eastern front.’

  ‘Ah, I see.’ Bethwig studied him for a moment: let the reichsprotektor win this round and Heydrich would own him for ever. ‘Even as head of the SS in France, Herr Reichsprotektor, do you not feel that you are overstating your case?’ His question was blunt. ‘Certainly the SS is strong politically, and your own position is so secure as to be unassailable. But there is still the army to consider and the party infrastructure. Even the SS cannot dictate to both at the same time.’

  Heydrich sat forward with a huge grin, snapped his fingers, and pointed at Bethwig. ‘I knew I had judged you correctly. You are a sensible man, and you understand the use of power. It is good to talk things out like this, to make certain that we understand one another.’

  Bethwig nodded, not at all relieved by his jovial mood. ‘Yes, I agree. I do, however, wonder why you are bothering to explain all this to someone as unimportant as I am.’

  ‘Ah, hardly unimportant, and I think you know that as well as I. Your father is a very powerful man in the party, and your own position as an early party member counts for a great deal in itself. Also I consider you the key man at Peenemunde. I fully believe that you are every bit as intelligent and capable as Herr von Braun. Now, let’s stop complimenting each other and get down to business.’

  Heydrich leaned forward and tapped out his points on the table between them. ‘Number one, in spite of Doktor von Braun’s reservations, the project must move forward as close to the timetable I have established as possible. The situation has been discussed with Minister Speer, and he has promised every cooperation in the matter of material and manpower priorities. I have arranged for him to obtain the release of a thousand technically trained people to be transferred from the army to Peenemunde. They will be reconstituted as a reserve army unit to provide security. In fact, they may be used as necessary.

  ‘Point two, the rocket must be ready as soon as possible. Even if all the safeguards possible have not been incorporated. There will be no end of volunteers ready to risk their lives for the Reich.

  ‘Third, Herr Doktor von Braun must be replaced. I see no other choice. Somehow I must convince you to accept the position.’ Heydrich smiled pleasantly. ‘There are any number of incentives that can be supplied. However, it must be understood that we are constructing a military weapon which will be less than perfect. That is the sticking point with von Braun. He demands absolute perfection and safety. As long as the task can be done, I am not interested in the cost, in money or lives. My God!’ - he threw up his hands - ‘if we had to wait until our fighter aircraft or tanks were absolutely perfect in every respect, we would still be flying gliders and driving automobiles with tin plates welded on for armour.

  ‘Finally - and this is the reason for haste - ‘ He paused and stared hard at Bethwig. ‘And this information is not to leave this room, do you understand?’

  Bethwig nodded, not certain what was coming next, in spite of the hindrance of other agencies, this information has been gathered. We have recently learned that the Jew scientist Albert Einstein, who defected to the United States some years ago, has convinced Roosevelt that a uranium bomb is feasible. We believe that work has already begun by the Americans, and perhaps by the British, to perfect a bomb. A number of traitor Jew scientists are working feverishly on the project, and there is no doubt that the bomb will be used against Germany. Morgenthau will see to that. So time is running out. My planning staff, which you disparage, has estimated that the Allies will have a uranium bomb at the earliest in the autumn of 1944 and at the latest the summer of 1946.’

  The information stunned Bethwig. He had been so certain of their position that he had never considered the possibility that the Allies might beat them to the uranium bomb. ‘Does Wernher know this?’ he finally managed to ask.

  ‘No. I did not feel secure in telling him. He is not a party member and I am not certain of his politics.’

  Bethwig leaned forward. As he spoke a finger punctuated each word: ‘Herr Heydrich, this information does not change my mind. Von Braun is the best man for the job. I will not replace him under any circumstances. As much as I desire the post of director, to accept it would be a major mistake.’

  ‘I do not agree.’

  I Franz threw himself back in his chair. How to make this man understand? ‘There is more than just friendship involved. In wartime there is no room for such considerations. Doktor von Braun is the only man who can do this job.’

  Heydrich shook his head. ‘You could be as effective. Perhaps more so, as you understand the political considerations.’

  ‘No!’ Bethwig slapped the table. ‘I must insist that you are wrong in this matter.’

  Heydrich stared at him a moment, considering, then nodded brusquely, ‘Is there anything else to be discussed?’

  ‘There is another problem.’

  ‘And that is?’

  ‘We are feeling increasing resistance from the army over use of the facilities at Peenemunde for the A-Ten. As you know, our highest priority from the Weapons Development Command is the A-Four rocket.’

  ‘I am aware of that problem, and steps are being taken to solve it. Within a week you should see the interference disappear.’ Bethwig was now conscious of an awkward silence. He did not know what else to say. Although the need was pressing, he knew that applying more pressure could not possibly make the project move faster. He was also aware that nothing under the sun would convince Heydrich of that fact.

  For the next hour they reviewed the A-10 project. Bethwig was able to report that the first engines had been assembled for testing and that the instrumentation was nearly all in place. Beyond that, aerodynamic and structural studies were nearly completed, and the shops had already begun fabricating those components with the longest lead times. Any final changes necessary could be made as they went along.

  Heydrich professed himself satisfied. Leaning back in his chair, he regarded Bethwig closely. ‘You will accept the position of A-Ten project director then?’

  The question startled him. He thought that Heydrich had satisfied himself that he would never replace von Braun. Bethwig spread his hands in exasperation. ‘How can I, Reinhard? I have given you my reasons for refusing. Von Braun is the only man who in my opinion can do the job. I certainly recognise the urgency but … ‘

  Heydrich’s expression had become hard and frightening. ‘You must do more than that, Herr Doktor Bethwig. You must accept. We will discuss the matter further tomorrow, before I leave for Paris.’

  Bethwig nodded, relieved that the inquisition was over, at least temporarily.

  His exasperation bega
n to wear off as soon as he left Heydrich’s office. The afternoon and evening he would spend with Inge were as much as he wanted to think about for now. He had decided that they would go for a drive during the afternoon, but when he tried to arrange for a car at the reception desk, he was told by an apologetic clerk that all were in use. On the way to his suite he noticed that a guard had been stationed at the end of the corridor.

  Inge was gone, every trace. The bed had been made and an antiseptic-smelling deodorant sprayed about the room to cover even the trace of her perfume. When he phoned the reception desk, they of course knew nothing, and the SS guard at the end of the corridor would only stare silently ahead.

  Bethwig tried to remain calm, but after the first hour he was pacing from one end of the apartment to the other. He knew what Heydrich was up to - a demonstration. The lesson was bitter but not unexpected. Heydrich meant to show him what it was like to have a favourite toy taken away. The bastard! Inge had become more than a toy. Though why he loved her as he thought he did, he could not be certain.

  Inge was returned at nine o’clock that evening. He heard a timid knock and threw open the door and the girl collapsed against him. Franz kicked the door shut and carried her into the bedroom. For a moment he thought she was drunk, but there was no odour of alcohol. Her head lolled to one side as he placed her on the bed, and she moaned when he lifted her arm on to the cover. He pushed the sleeve back and shock jolted through him. Swearing like a madman, Bethwig tore away her light summer dress. The sight was stunning. Her chest and back were covered with purplish bruises. Cigarette burns dotted her breasts. Wire marks encircled her thighs and upper arms, and a livid SS brand had been burned into each buttock.