Well, thus ends my leadership of the team. Graf went over and stood next to Ursula Koch.
“Your mission,” Siegfried began—he walked along the line of his soldiers—“as Colonel Graf has stated, is one of reconnaissance and recovery. Be that as it may, if it turns out that Geiger is, indeed, trying to pass information to the enemy, he is a traitor. And in wartime, we deal with traitors in only one way: death. There is no trial. There is no innocent until proven guilty. There is only death for traitors.” Siegfried came to stand in front of Graf. “Is that understood?”
“Yes, sir,” Graf said.
“The same goes for the foreign agents. Understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. Dismissed. Get to your vehicles and go.”
The team dispersed, but Siegfried put a restraining hand on Graf’s arm. “That order, you won’t have any problems following it, will you?”
Colonel Gunter Graf looked at his commanding officer evenly. “Not at all.”
CHAPTER 32
“Let me get this straight,” Captain Matthew Payne said to Henry. “You want me to smuggle you and your lady friend on board the Gloria Patri knowing full well it’ll be inspected by the brats at the Royal Navy. Then, you want me to take you where?”
They sat in a bar a mile from the port in Weymouth. Soon after the start of the war in September 1939, the British government set up a blockade. They wisely didn’t call it a blockade. Rather, it was a contraband inspection. All ships passing through the English Channel had to stop near Weymouth for inspection. British ships or friendly neutrals could expect a delay. Unfriendly ship captains could expect longer delays.
“Antwerp.” Lillian Saxton wasn’t as confident as Henry was with Payne’s willingness to pay up the favor. “That’s where you’re going, right?”
“Aye, that’s where I’m going.” Payne was a stocky man. His gut threatened to bulge over his belt. His arms looked like sides of beef, the veins snaking through the thick muscles. His neck was all but nonexistent. He wore a captain’s cap, pushed back to reveal a bald head. “How do you know that?”
“It’s on the manifest,” Henry said.
“You seem to know everything, pretty boy.”
“I do.” Henry put his hand out to Payne. “You going to help?”
Payne paused.
“We’d be even if you do.”
Payne remained silent, thinking. Finally, he said, “You know, if I get caught, I’ll lose my ship. The same ship that’s been in my family for forty years. My pappy sailed this thing in the last war.”
“And you get to sail it in this war,” Henry said. “C’mon, pal. You’re a British citizen. The Navy doesn’t expect you to be smuggling anything, much less a couple of extra souls.”
Payne still resisted. “What’s so important in Belgium? You running away from something?”
“More like running to something,” Lillian said.
Henry looked at her, raised his eyebrows, then turned to Payne. “You want the truth? I’ll give it to you.”
Lillian started to speak but Henry waved her off.
“Lillian here received a message from an old friend of hers. He now works for Hitler. This friend is offering to pass along to us a copy of the codebook the Nazis are using. All we have to do is get to Belgium, go to Brussels, meet him, get the book, and come back. Then we pass it along to my bosses and we’ll know exactly what all the Jerrys are saying to each other. We’ll even know the exact date of their next move. Our problem is the Channel. We can’t get across on our own. We need someone to take us. This isn’t a military operation, per se, so we need to appear to be civilians.”
“Why civilians? Why not just send a squad over there?”
“In this case,” Henry said, “that’s not a viable option. Now, your role in this can’t be revealed now, but when they write the history of this war, there’ll be a special place for espionage and spycraft.” He tapped Payne’s chest. “You, my friend, will be in the history books. But now, you’ll be helping His Majesty’s armed forces defeat that son of a bitch Hitler.”
Payne no longer hesitated. “Why the hell didn’t you say so in the first place and trust me?” He beamed. “I’ve got just the place for you. It’ll be tight, but you both will get a chance to talk while the inspectors do their thing.” He downed his Scotch and signaled the bartender. “You don’t mind buying another round, do you, mate?”
CHAPTER 33
The hiding place turned out to be a storage locker with a false back. Payne wasn’t kidding about close quarters. With the jackets and clothes that remained in place in case some inspector got a wild hair to open each and every one of the lockers, Lillian and Henry were almost touching each other.
The irony of the situation was that it gave Lillian a chance to get a good look at the handsome British agent up close without anyone shooting at them. His jaw was firm and square. Hollywood directors would clamor to cast him in any film. His dark hair was cut short, but a wisp seemed always to have fallen across his forehead. He constantly swept it away only to have it fall back. Why he didn’t just break out the Brylcreem, she never knew. Not that she minded. Too often, men with slicked back hair appeared phony.
Another bit that embarrassed her was hygiene. In all the chasing, she had not a chance to shower properly and clean herself. She feared her odor was ripe. Kind of like his.
When Payne promised to keep them safe, he went ahead and closed the locker door. It wasn’t solid. It had half-inch holes spaced out in a grid pattern. The design allowed clothes in the locker to get some air. Now, the holes allowed them to breathe and see each other in the dim light.
“Ever been sealed up like a sardine before?” Henry asked.
“A couple of times. Not like this. And not with another person.” She adjusted her feet. They scraped his. He moved his feet. He touched hers. They both chuckled at the predicament.
“Listen,” Lillian said, “about your friend Payne. I don’t think it was a great idea to tell him about our plans.”
His expression darkened. “What was the alternative? Not get across? I saw an opportunity and took it. You can thank me later when we’re in Belgium.”
“Maybe, but I’d like to keep this little mission with as few people in the know as possible.”
“Don’t forget: you’re not the leader. We’re co-leaders. Ludlow specifically said I was in charge if things went topsy-turvy. The way this is going, I expect to be in charge pretty soon.”
“Hey.” Lillian’s tone rose. “We wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for me.”
“And your boyfriend over in Germany.” Henry sneered the word “boyfriend.” “He’s a traitor, you know. Giving us secrets. They’ll kill him if they find out.”
Lillian had known that ever since Frank delivered the poetry book. But she trusted James that he knew what he was doing and to take into account threats on his life.
“I know. And he’s not my boyfriend. He’s married now.”
Henry grunted.
Outside in the hallway, through the closed door, they heard the sound of voices approaching. The closer the voices got, the better Lillian and Henry could understand what was being said.
“I don’t care if you are a British ship,” a man said. He had a Scottish brogue in his voice. “I’m on the hook for checking every place a person can hide.” Footsteps grew closer.
“But why?” The second voice belonged to Payne. “As captain of this ship, I can tell ye there’s only the crew on board.”
“Don’t matter, Captain. Orders be orders. And as to yer question, word has it from the home office two fugitives, a man and a woman, are trying to get across the Channel. If we spot’em, we are to bring’em back.” The footsteps halted. “And woe be the man who harbored them.”
Silence thickened the air.
Lillian and Henry looked at each other. Time to see if Payne’s little trick would work. Payne had affixed little handles on the backside of the false back, which w
as a sheet of wood painted to resemble the back of the locker. The idea was that Lillian and Henry would hold the wood in place and make it appear, to a person opening and closing the lockers, that it was merely the back of the locker. With nearly a full rack of clothes in between them and the door, a cursory inspection probably wouldn’t reveal the rear wall of the locker was closer to the door than all the others.
That was the plan.
Lillian and Henry had angled the wood to allow air to flow. Now, just as the door to the crew’s locker room thudded open, they shoved the false back in place. They were now in virtual complete darkness. The only light was a thin sliver that came in over the top of the false back. Lillian couldn’t see Henry at all. But she did hear his breathing. It was fast. She steadied hers.
“I hafta look in all the lockers.” The Scot’s voice was muffled but clear. He opened and closed the first locker.
“I understand,” Payne said. “I don’t envy you your job.”
“It’s the least I can do.” He opened and closed the second locker.
The locker in which Lillian and Henry were hiding was the fourth out of ten.
“Who are these fugitives you’re looking for?” Payne asked.
“Don’t know. One’s British. The man.” The door to the third locker banged open. A second later, it slammed shut. “The woman’s from America. Not sure why they’re wanted, but that’s who we’re looking for. And contraband.”
The Scot opened the fourth locker. A slight whoosh of air slipped over the wooden sheet. Lillian held her breath. She heard Henry do likewise.
“What?” the Scot asked. “You got all your heavy coats in one locker?” A hand came into the locker and moved around the winter coats. The hangers scraped on the wooden sheet.
“The men don’t like to have those parkas in their lockers during the warm months. So we pile’em in there.”
The Scot slammed the door shut. “Good idea.”
Lillian and Henry eased out their breaths. They stood and waited for the Scot to complete his inspection of the locker room. The last thing they heard from either man was Payne saying, “Where to next?”
“Bathrooms.”
The door to the locker room slammed shut.
Lillian and Henry lowered the wooden sheet. They breathed in the fresh, cool air. Payne had told them not to leave the locker until they were underway. Lillian’s legs were killing her. She wondered how long it would be.
CHAPTER 34
The answer turned out to be another three hours. Lillian passed the time doing her best to keep her legs from falling asleep. Henry didn’t fare much better. When the Gloria Patri finally lurched into the Channel, both Lillian and Henry literally fell out of the locker and lay on the floor for a good fifteen minutes. It was long enough for Payne to enter the room and give them both a funny look.
“Shut up,” Henry muttered.
“I didn’t say a thing,” Payne replied. He extended his hand and helped Lillian to her feet. “My apologies, my dear, but it worked.”
“Thanks for that,” Lillian said. “But the next thing I need is a shower.” She motioned her head at the shower stall in the corner.
“Take your time,” Payne said. “I’ll just drag him to the next room.”
An hour later, showered, cleaned, and dressed in a traveling outfit consisting of a blue skirt, tweed close-fitting jacket, and white blouse, Lillian Saxton emerged into the officers’ mess. Payne, Henry, and the other men openly gawked at her appearance. She knew she was attractive and could spruce up with the best of them, but it was always nice to have male validation. She plopped her valise on a chair and sat next to Henry.
“You’re next. Soap’s in the shower. Be sure to use it.”
The mild chuckles from the other men made Henry blush. It was Lillian’s intended effect. He rose, nodded, and left the room.
Payne placed a cup and saucer in front of Lillian and poured tea in it. “Now, Miss Saxton, why don’t you regale us with how you found yourself on our little ship?”
Lillian talked with the mates for nearly the entire voyage across the Channel. By the time Henry returned, decked out in a dark brown suit and green tie, his hair nicely coiffed, Lillian had run out of story. She didn’t let it show, but when Henry cleaned up, he looked downright handsome.
After all the difficulties they had encountered since Liverpool, Lillian found it surprising the crossing was uneventful. Before she knew it, the port city of Antwerp came into view. She and Henry stood on the bow. The sea breeze ruffled her hair. It also ruffled his. The strand of hair fell once more across his forehead.
“What’s your plan?” Henry asked.
“Train ride to Brussels. How long does it take?”
“Half an hour in peacetime. Maybe more today. Depends on all the plans the Belgians have made in advance of Hitler’s move.”
Belgium, to the chagrin of Britain and France, declared itself neutral in 1936. The French hated that stand as it created a hole in the Maginot Line, the fortified line bordering France and Germany. A neutral Belgium, in order to remain in that state, refused to coordinate with the Allies at the outbreak of war in September 1939. If the Germans conducted war the way they had in 1914—that is, if they invaded Belgium—the Allies would have a devil of a time fortifying their left flank.
In lieu of an offensive military, King Leopold III of Belgium ordered his armed forces to operate in a defensive mode. They built up fortifications along the common German/Belgium border in addition to forts around Antwerp and the Albert Canal.
By the time the Gloria Patri docked in Antwerp, the signs of a defensive build-up were few and far between. The sun shown brightly down on the largest city in Belgium. Located on the River Scheldt, Antwerp was one of the largest ports in Europe and the host of the 1920 Summer Olympics, the first after the conclusion of the Great War twenty years ago.
Lillian took in the sight of the old city. As an American, her world travels amazed her when she encountered countries and even buildings that were older than the United States. In some cases in Antwerp, structures predated the founding of Jamestown, Virginia, in 1607.
“It’s because your country’s just a pup,” Henry quipped.
“Yeah. I guess so. Still, my pup saved your bacon in the last war.”
The Antwerpen-Centraal train station benefited from architects cognizant of the existing look and feel of the city. The stonework that built up the station made it look right at home with all the other buildings in the area. Lillian and Henry traversed the interior, making their way to the Brussels train. Lillian bought the tickets while Henry kept a keen eye out for anything untoward.
“Excuse me for a moment.” Henry eased himself back into the crowd.
Lillian turned and squinted, trying to see where he went. She lost him almost as soon as the crowds enveloped him. Not having any recourse other than to stay where she was, Lillian walked over to a newsstand. She found a French newspaper and bought it. The stories were full of dire warnings about what the Nazis would do next.
If you’re so worried about Hitler, Lillian thought, don’t underestimate him.
The next thing she knew, Henry stood by her side. She looked up at him. A reddening splotch appeared on his cheek.
“What happened?”
“Ran into a friend of mine. Fellow agent. I needed to know if he had received any instructions from the home office.”
“Had he?”
“No, but I told him he might. And it would be about you and me. We had a discussion. I wanted to make sure we could conduct our mission without any issues. He, um, saw things differently. Our discussion went, um, in a different direction.” He cracked a grin. “I won the argument.” He touched his cheek. “But he made some good points.”
Lillian examined the growing bruise. “You need some ice on that. Let’s get something to drink and then get on the train.”
The two of them strolled through the train station. They found a vendor and bought two tall cups of
ice water. Henry rubbed a cube on his face. The swelling went down.
A whistle sounded, indicating the impending departure of their train. They hurried through the throng of people and boarded. Finding their seats, they stowed their two bags in the overhead compartment and sat.
As much as she wanted to relax, Lillian remained on alert. The enemies of this mission seemed to materialize out of thin air, when they least expected it. Ironically, now that they were finally in Belgium, nothing happened on the train ride up to Brussels.
Since this route was a major thoroughfare through the country, evidence of military preparations were everywhere. Squads of men, guns, heavy arms, and temporary fortifications dotted both sides of the track. Seeing the map of Belgium in her mind, Lillian wondered how well the Belgian army would hold up against Hitler’s seasoned veterans. The poor folks in Poland had barely stood a chance. The army of Denmark barely half a day. She had seen newsreels of the blitzkrieg and read reports from the army. The barricades she now saw appeared to be ready for the first war, not this second one.
The Hotel Le Plaza in Brussels was the designated meeting place. For all of Lillian’s defense of the mission, and no matter how much she protested that James was not her current boyfriend, James was not making it easy on her. She and James had spent a weekend in the Hotel Le Plaza back in their college days. It had been Lillian’s first true taste of how the other side lived and it marked a turning point in their relationship. After that weekend, the idea of marrying James Geiger hadn’t seemed a fantasy, but more like the inevitable future.
When she laid eyes on the building, all those memories and emotions flooded back. Built nearly ten years ago, the Hotel Le Plaza was the finest in all of Brussels. Constructed in a style reminiscent of older hotels in Europe and Paris, Le Plaza sat in the heart of Brussels. The stone facade and structure might have indicated a stolid interior, but the reality was quite the opposite. Natural light was an important feature of the inside of the hotel, with skylights and other windows streaming into the eight-story building. Where the building met the Rue du Progrès and the Rue de Malines, instead of a squared-off edge, the architects rounded the corner, much like the Flatiron building in New York City.
Ulterior Objectives: A Lillian Saxton Thriller Page 17