Resolute Nazi

by Wagher, Ward

  Corporal Ilia Zolotov had stood the case of industrial dynamite on its end and roped it around one of the support pillars in the basement of the Hotel Dom. He stood and picked up the reel of detonation cord and looked at Lieutenant Morozov.

  “How much time do you want on the fuse, Lieutenant?”

  “I think we want to give it ten minutes. I don’t want to chance anyone finding this, but we will need the time to get away from the hotel.”

  “Are we ready, then?” Zolotov asked.

  “No. There is one more thing. Our masters want us to make sure that Kim Philby is away from the hotel when it goes up.”

  “Why should anyone worry about an Englishman? They are almost as bad as the Germans.”

  Morozov smiled as he put his hands together in a prayerful manner. “Ours is not to question; rather, ours is to do.”

  Zolotov shook his head. “Whatever you say, Lieutenant.”

  “I need to go find the Sergeant. Wait here in case someone stumbles across the device. If they do, Corporal, make sure they do not leave.”

  “I understand.”

  Morozov made his way to the stairwell and worked his way to the ground floor. He walked along the service hallways until he encountered Sergeant Yefim Prostakov. The man wore a waiter’s outfit and carried a tray of dirty glassware.

  “Have you identified Philby?” Morozov asked in a low voice.

  “Yes, the man seems to be hitting up all the women in the place tonight.”

  “Fine. Get his attention and make sure he leaves the hotel. You need to go with him unless you want the roof to cave in on your head.”

  “To our meeting point, Lieutenant?”

  “No, you idiot. Just get him around the corner. When the building goes up, we will let him decide what he wants to do. Get him away from here and get back to our meeting point. There will not be a lot of time.”

  Morozov watched as the Sergeant set the tray down on a nearby table and returned to the reception room. He then turned and walked back to the stairwell. He did not notice the SS Lieutenant standing in the shadows.

  The SS Lieutenant quietly followed Morozov to the stairs and then watched him descend. He looked around, trying to decide whether to follow or report the suspicious activities to Rainer. Making up his mind, he eased down the stairway using the tips of his shoes, placing them on the outer edges of the treads to keep them from squeaking.

  Rainer stood to one side of the reception hall. He had been introduced to the queen and also noticed Schloss’s reaction when he was introduced to Philby. He was not sure what the Reich Chancellor’s concern was, however, he had learned to pay attention and was keeping an eye on the Englishman. So, he was very much aware when the waiter slipped into the room and walked over to speak to Philby. This was unusual in itself, and he wondered why the English security was not taking note of it.

  When the two men walked from the room, Rainer looked around and decided this was something he could do for himself. He left the room and followed the two men out of the hotel. They walked quickly down the sidewalk, and Rainer used the darkness of the evening to stay out of their sight as he followed.

  Misty had stood in the door watching and saw what had taken place. She slipped through the reception room and followed Rainer out into the street. He did not notice her following.

  In the basement, Morozov walked up to Zolotov and carefully looked around.

  “Okay, Ilia, I think we are ready.”

  Hearing a scraping sound, Ilia asked, “What was that?”

  The SS Lieutenant was cursing himself for his clumsiness and was trying to fade again into the shadows. Only a few low wattage bulbs illuminated the cellars of the hotel, and he hoped he would pass notice. Morozov pulled a knife out of its sheath and crept between the pillars that held up the hotel. Despite the gloom, he could see the shadow of the other man who stood behind one of the posts.

  Morozov slipped silently around the other side of the pillar and up behind the SS man. Clapping his hand over the man’s mouth, Morozov shoved the knife into his neck. The man struggled briefly as the blood sprayed in front of him. Morozov stepped back and then bent over to wipe his blade on the man’s clothes. He quickly walked back over to Zolotov.

  “Light the fuse, Corporal. We need to get out of here.”

  Rainer followed the two men down the street for two blocks and was now wishing he had alerted his team. They were paying close attention to the reception but seemed to be losing awareness of what was going on around them and the hotel. He would have to speak to them about this.

  Two blocks away from the hotel, the two men stopped at a street corner. The waiter spoke briefly to Philby and then stepped across the street and began walking south. Philby stuck his hands in his pockets and leaned back against the wall. Rainer felt like he needed to get back to the hotel but was also intensely curious about where the waiter was going. He also realized he had slipped out without his security escort, and that was dangerous.

  Rainer made up his mind and turned to walk back to the hotel when the ground quivered. He stopped, frozen in terror. A moment later, he was assaulted with the roar of an explosion. He began running back to the hotel.

  The evening had gone well, and Schloss spent a large part of the reception in conversation with the Queen. He found her to be engaging and intelligent. He had just decided to look for an opportunity to end the evening when he felt a hand on his arm. He looked over to see a pale looking Gisela.

  “Darling, I wonder if you might return with me to our room? I fear something I ate tonight did not agree with me.”

  Margaret immediately looked concerned. “Of course, Herr Schloss and Gisela. Thank you for a delightful evening.”

  The Queen watched as the Reich Chancellor and his wife walked out of the room. She was impressed with Schloss and had enjoyed the conversation. But now, the evening was over. She glanced around the room and spotted Colin as well as the foreign minister. She did not see Philby, however, and wondered about that. She walked over to where Eden was talking to the Schreibers.

  “I trust this has been an enjoyable evening Herr Foreign Minister,” she said.

  Peter nodded his head and Renate smiled. “This has been delightful,” Peter said. “I think this will have been a good start for our meetings tomorrow.”

  “I have enjoyed getting to know you better tonight, Peter,” Eden said with a warm smile.

  “Thank you, Anthony. I am confident my wife and I will find this to have been a profitable evening.”

  Schloss and Gisela walked into the suite, and she immediately trotted into the bathroom to drop to her knees in front of the commode. He followed her in and held her hair back as she struggled with the nausea.

  “Do you need me to get a doctor, Precious?”

  “No,” she gasped. “It is just this verdammte morning sickness. The smell from the buffet set me off, and I couldn’t get myself settled down again.” And she bent over in another convulsive spasm.

  “I think tomorrow you should stay here and rest,” Schloss began to say when the building heaved madly. He reached out to shield his wife and slammed his head against one of the porcelain fixtures, and darkness descended.

  § § §

  October 12, 1943; 10:30 PM

  Dom-Hotel

  Cologne, Germany

  Karl Rainer stood in front of the wreckage of the Dom Hotel, clenching and unclenching his hands. He was frantic to find out what happened to Schloss. And he was terrified about what probably happened to Misty. He knew that when Schloss and Schreiber had presented him with the women’s fait accompli, he should have put his foot down. Losing his friends would be devastating, and he did not even know how he could accept the loss of Misty Simpson.

  At some level, he was thinking rationally despite the shock of the explosion. If Schloss and Schreiber were dead, the task of forming a new government would fall to him. And the entire situation left him helpless. He was ready to tear into the wreckage himself to find his fr
iends but had no idea where to start.

  He was suddenly assaulted by a small form that slammed into him and threw her arms around him.

  “Oh, Karl, what has happened? All our friends were in the building. What will we do?”

  He grasped her arms and held her away so he could look at her face. She was covered in the dust that had blown outwards from the explosion, and the tear-streaks were unmistakable. He was unable to stifle the sob that broke forth. He pulled her in close and held her tight. He never wanted to let her go again.

  The Cologne city police captain moved up next to Rainer.

  “Herr Reichsprotektor, is it true the Reich Chancellor and the Foreign Minister were in the building?”

  Misty stepped away from him but held his hand as he turned to the policeman.

  “And their wives, Herr Wessel.”

  A small part of Rainer’s mind wandered how many men in Germany were named Horst Wessel. He had met the stormtrooper whom Goebbels had proclaimed a martyr to the Nazi cause. The man was a thug. This Horst Wessel, the police captain, seemed a civilized man.

  “And the English Queen was there too?”

  “And the English Foreign Minister, and their entourage.”

  “What part of the building were they in?” Wessel asked.

  “They were in the reception room. I know there must have been dozens, if not hundreds of people in the hotel. But we must find out what happened to Herr Schloss. The stability of the nation depends on it.”

  “I understand entirely,” the police captain replied. “We will direct the rescue parties in that direction first. Thank Gott, there was no fire.”

  The police captain was efficient and quickly organized rescue parties to begin carefully sifting through the wreckage. As the teams worked, they began to recover injured victims as well as dead bodies.

  Rainer asked Wessel to detail someone to escort Misty to the office building across the street where she could warm up. She was shivering from the cold. Rainer worked through the night, helping to dig through the rubble and move wreckage as well as carefully watching when someone was carried out. Each covered body brought a new spasm of fear.

  As dawn was breaking, he saw a dust-covered Colin Marty stumbling along next to a stretcher coming out of the wreckage. He quickly made his way over to the man.

  “Is that the Queen?”

  “Yes, sir. We need to get her to a hospital.”

  “No need to refer to me in the third person,” came the voice from the stretcher. “It takes more than a mere bomb to kill an English sovereign.”

  “Your Majesty, are you injured?” Rainer asked quickly.

  “I think my leg is broken. Otherwise, I expect to be back to tormenting my subjects within a few days.”

  Rainer turned to Marty. “Were you near the Reich Chancellor or the Foreign Minister?”

  “The Reich Chancellor and his wife had returned to their suite. She was not feeling well. Her Majesty and Foreign Minister Eden were talking to Herr Schreiber and his wife when the bomb went off.”

  “Thank you, Herr Marty, and you should perhaps see to some medical attention as well. We will speak again.”

  Rainer hurried back over to where the queen had been pulled from the wreckage and watched as the men labored to move the bricks and beams of the hotel. The workers carefully eased a body onto another stretcher and lifted it out of the wreckage.

  “We need a doctor over here, quickly. This one is still alive, but barely.”

  Rainer stumbled over the rubble to get to the men carrying the stretcher. He looked down to see Peter Schreiber. Peter’s eyes opened, and he looked over to see Rainer.

  “Karl,” he croaked, “please see to Renate.”

  “Of course, Peter. Just try to rest.”

  When the rescuers pulled a woman’s body out of the mess, they dropped a sheet over her face. Rainer felt an abyss open inside himself. He stepped over and eased the coverlet up. Renate Schloss Schreiber looked peaceful in death. Rainer swallowed as tears streamed down his face.

  He pulled his handkerchief and wiped his face, smearing the dust and dirt. He walked over to Captain Wessel.

  “One of the survivors told me that the Reich Chancellor and his wife had returned to their suite. We must get a team to that area.”

  Wessel pointed to the left. “The suites were all on the top floor there. There is a much better chance of survival, I think. We must remain hopeful, Herr Reichsprotektor.”

  “I hate the title Reichsprotektor,” Rainer said suddenly. “I have failed to protect the two most important people in Germany.”

  Wessel looked at him in surprise. “There is nothing you could have done,” he said.

  “I could have been there.”

  “Then you would likely have been dead. And that would be a worse situation. Let me get some people working on the top floor suites. Might I suggest that you need to call Berlin?”

  Rainer shook his head. “Thank you for reminding me of my duties, Herr Captain. Where might I find a telephone?”

  “We have set up a command center in that bank across the street there. They will give you a private office with a telephone. Now I must direct the teams.”

  “Hennie? Darling? Can you hear me?”

  He recognized the voice that penetrated the darkness and struggled to return to sensibility. He tried to move, but his legs were pinned. He felt something move under him.

  “Hennie? Wake up, darling!”

  He moaned. The blow to his head was excruciating, but he struggled to push the fuzziness away. Gisela needed him. He began fitting the pieces together. He was in the bathroom, helping Gisela when the world tumbled down around them. He opened his eyes and blinked to clear the dust. It was dark, but not entirely so. A few small shafts of light shone down from above him.

  “Gisela, are you all right?”

  “Oh, Hennie! I was so frightened. I thought you were dead.”

  “Are you all right?”

  “I think so. But I cannot move. You are lying on top of me.”

  “I do not think we are going anywhere for the moment,” he said. “But, I think I can hear workmen.”

  “What happened?” she asked.

  “Someone must have set off a bomb, is all I can think.”

  “Peter and Renate were in the reception room with the Queen,” she said suddenly.

  “It is entirely likely we have a huge mess to clean up, my Dear. Let me see if I can twist to the side so that I do not shout in your ear when I call for help.”

  She giggled despite the situation. “I appreciate your consideration, Darling.”

  Across the street in the bank building, Rainer had just gotten off the phone with Willem Kirche. It was the first time Rainer had seen anything other than calm, controlled, competence from the Reich Chancellor’s secretary. Kirche was beside himself. Rainer managed to settle him down enough to write down his instructions to call each of the members of the government and to begin planning for the aftermath, whatever that might be.

  Misty had found her way to the office he used for the phone call. “This is very bad, Karl. You told Willem that Renate is dead.”

  “Yes, I hope that Peter survives. We need him badly, although I don’t know what he will do when he hears about Renate.”

  She looked up as Captain Wessel bustled into the room.

  “Herr Reichsprotektor, we have located the Reich Chancellor and his wife. They are alive, and we are bringing them out.”

  Rainer jumped out of the chair. “Misty, wait here.”

  He brushed past the policeman. He ran from the building, and across the street to where he could see the crew carrying two stretchers down through the rubble. He waited at the base of the debris, breathing heavily until the pallets got to him.

  “You can let me off the stretcher now,” Schloss said.

  One of the doctors who was working with the rescue crews laid a hand on Schloss’s shoulder. “No, Herr Reich Chancellor. We are taking you to the hospit
al to check you out. You have received a nasty blow to the head. We want to make sure there are no other problems.”

  “I can assure you I am okay.”

  “Herr Schloss!” Rainer barked. “Heinrich. You will go to the hospital. We are all badly frightened. We need to make sure that you are uninjured.”

  “Are you giving the orders now, Karl?” Schloss asked with a small grin.

  “I am giving the orders now. You will go to the hospital.”

  He walked over to the other stretcher. “Are you all right, Frau Schloss?”

  She looked up at a very shaken looking Karl Rainer and grasped his hand. “I think I am uninjured, Karl. We fell between the fixtures in the bathroom. They appear to have held up the building structure. I will make sure that Hennie gets to the hospital. As you know, we sometimes have to do these things for his own good.”

  He looked down to see the ghost of a smile on her face. Now was not the time to give her any further bad news. He watched as the men loaded the Reich Chancellor and his wife into the ambulance, and it rolled away, sounding its raucous two-note siren.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

  October 13, 1943; 2 AM

  Along the Oder River near Poznan

  General Ivan Smirnoff stared through his binoculars across the Oder River into the darkness. There was nothing to see at this time of the early morning hours, but he wanted reassurance that the Intelligence people were correct in the arrangement of the German forces. Major Kuzmin, now Lieutenant Colonel Kuzmin had been a reliable source of information so far during the summer and early fall. Now that they were getting ready to kick off an offensive that should see them in Berlin, he was more concerned than ever about the intelligence.

  Colonel Belyaev stood next to him, saying nothing. Smirnoff finally turned to him.

  “Well, Colonel, I guess we will find out how prepared we are in a few minutes.”

  As he spoke, he heard the thundering of the artillery behind him. He was able to observe thin streaks of light as the shells passed overhead and impacted on the far bank of the Oder river.

  “That we will, General.”