‘I mean that in order to dig Anna out of her hole, he had to employ the resources of his entire department, including Donovan.’
‘Well, then, that’s rather blown her, hasn’t it? Not that it matters.’
‘Not necessarily. They are willing to make our secret their secret. But they want a share.’ Again he hurried on, as Baxter stared at him. ‘I told them, of course, that I could not agree to anything without the consent of my superiors.’
‘I think that was very wise of you.’
‘But I think we should agree.’
‘Because if we don’t agree, they will throw Anna to the wolves, or the Soviets, or whatever.’
‘There is that point, certainly. But there is an even more important point: if we agree to share our top agent in Germany, at their request, well, that’s virtually co-belligerency. The OSS was set up by Roosevelt himself, and is subject only to him. Therefore, whatever they do has his approval.’
‘I thought you knew the Yanks well enough to understand that they don’t share, they take over.’
‘Anna is our girl. And she will remain our girl.’
‘Because she’s your girl.’
Clive met his gaze. ‘Yes.’
Baxter returned the stare appraisingly; he had known Clive long enough to tell when his subordinate was unsure of himself. ‘I’ll go along with what you propose. It so happens that we need Anna to carry out a most important task for us. She is at last going to earn her keep.’
Clive raised his eyebrows. Billy had always been sceptical about using Anna at all.
‘Let’s talk about her German boyfriend, Reinhard Heydrich.’
*
‘Come in, Countess.’ The Ambassador came round his desk to take Anna’s hands. ‘You have read the report?’
‘Yes, your Excellency.’
He escorted her to a comfortable chair, sat beside her. ‘I have, of course, lodged a formal protest, but they are adamant. “Behaviour inappropriate for a foreign diplomat and harmful to the interests of the United States.” What really annoys me is that they have supplied no information as to what this “inappropriate behaviour” is. Or was.’ He paused to regard her, hopefully.
Anna shrugged. ‘I suppose it has something to do with the fact that I found it necessary to seduce a senior official in the Administration.’
‘Good heavens!’ The ambassador was suitably shocked.
‘I’m afraid it goes with the job,’ Anna pointed out.
‘Ah! Yes. And have you succeeded in, ah, obtaining the information Berlin requires?’
‘Yes, sir. I think I have done that.’
‘Then you are to be congratulated. Now, I imagine you will be pleased to be getting home.’
What he meant, she knew, was ‘we will be pleased to see the back of you’.
‘You will be travelling by a Portuguese vessel,’ he went on, ‘called the Pakoma, en route to Lisbon. We have informed Berlin of this so there should be no trouble with U-boats. I will wish you good fortune in carrying out your, ah, future duties for the Reich.’
‘Thank you, sir.’ Anna stood up. ‘Heil Hitler!’
*
As the Embassy had clearly washed their hands of her, she had no worries about leaving the building for her lunch date. Birgit stayed behind to complete their packing; they were boarding that evening. She had hoped Joe would be there, but Donovan was alone, at least at the reserved table; she did not doubt that he had a number of his people strategically placed as bodyguards.
‘Countess!’ He squeezed her glove. ‘Or may I call you Anna?’
‘Please do. What do I call you?’
‘I think, on this occasion, Bill.’ He gestured her to a chair.
‘And on other occasions?’
‘In public, I suppose it should be Mr Donovan, as I am now your employer.’
‘One of them,’ Anna reminded him.
‘Oh, quite. Shall we order?’ The maître d’ was hovering.
They chose, and an aperitif arrived.
‘I promised myself this treat, from the moment Joe first told me about you,’ Donovan said.
‘What treat?’
‘Lunching with you.’
‘Oh. I didn’t reckon I could have made much of an impression when we first met. I must have looked like a bag lady.’
‘Then I would have to say you would have been the most glamorous bag lady ever. But very human.’
‘And now?’
‘Oh, now, you’re incredible.’
‘But inhuman.’
‘I hope not.’
‘Ah.’
‘Do you always consider everything in the ultimate?’
‘In my life it usually comes to that, Mr Donovan. Bill.’
‘And you survive by anticipating.’
‘You could be right. I’ve never really thought about it like that.’
‘But you have survived, which is good. I gather there have been situations before. Like in the Lubianka.’
‘Yes.’
‘And others?’
Anna drank some wine. ‘Yes.’
‘Dare I ask how many? Please believe me, I’m not prying, per se. I like to know as much about my employees as I can.’
‘You understand that you are not my principal employer, Bill.’
‘I understand that. I’d give a whole lot to know which is number one.’
‘MI6 is number one. As long as they do not compromise my position. You know about that?’
‘About your family? Joe filled me in. So we’re number two. As long as we don’t compromise your position in the Reich.’
‘As long as you don’t do anything that might compromise my family. And let’s face it, Mr Donovan – Bill, right now you are a fringe player as regards the future of either me or my family.’
‘You are a singularly forthright young woman. But you’re damned right. I can only say that it’s the profound hope of myself, and my people, that that may change, one day. One day soon. But you understand that you have to keep in contact with our people in Berlin.’
‘I understand that I am placing myself in very great danger, unless these people are absolutely reliable.’
‘There will be only one, until Joe can get there. And I am sure you’ll agree that he will be absolutely reliable. You have the contact information?’
‘Yes. But did you say that Joe is coming to Berlin?’
‘Just as soon as it can be arranged. I would have thought that would please you.’
‘It pleases me very much. It’s just that he never mentioned it.’
‘I told him that I would put you in the picture. He’s pretty pleased too. But right now, you haven’t answered my question. Which was how many times have you had to extricate yourself from a situation like that Russian one? Joe has told me about the Lubianka.’
‘I agreed that there have been others.’
‘Yes, you did. How many?’
‘I’d have to think about that.’
‘And you can still smile about it. Well, let’s rephrase the question. You have obviously had to shoot your way out of a few situations in your time. Have you any idea how many people you have had to hit to do that?’
‘You are asking how many people I have had to kill.’
‘The two aren’t necessarily synonymous.’
‘In my case, they are.’
He studied her for several seconds while their main course was served. Then he said, ‘Yes. I imagine they were. Have you any idea?’
‘Oh, yes. It is now twenty-one.’
Donovan had raised his wine glass to his lips. Now he almost choked. ‘Holy sh— I beg your pardon. How old are you?’
‘I am twenty-one years old.’
‘One for every year of your life. Tell me, have you ever heard of our most famous outlaw?’
‘I suppose you mean Jesse James.’
‘Well, I guess that’s right. But I wasn’t thinking of him. The guy I had in mind wasn’t technically an outlaw at all, in
the sense of robbing banks or trains. He was a hired gun. His name was William Bonney. They called him Billy the Kid.’
‘I have heard of Billy the Kid.’
‘Well, they reckon he was the deadliest killer in the West. But by the time he was twenty-one he had only managed nineteen kills.’
‘Am I supposed to be flattered?’
‘You sure have to be respected.’
‘I am glad you said that. The way I look at it, sir, is that I am fighting a war. If I were a fighter pilot who had shot down twenty-one enemy aircraft, would they not call me an ace, and give me a medal?’
‘That is a very good point. Maybe, when this business is over, we’ll be able to arrange that.’
‘Would you?’ Her face lit up in a way he had not seen before, and which redoubled her beauty, if that were possible. ‘I shall look forward to that.’
‘So shall I. The trouble with Billy the Kid was that he never got past twenty-one. He was killed at that age.’
Anna gazed at him. ‘I know,’ she said.
Chapter Seven – The Mission
‘I have received a coded telegram from London,’ Joe announced. ‘MI6.’
‘Well, now. Don’t tell me they’ve changed their minds about sharing Anna,’ Donovan said.
‘It reads: “Imperative contact A on arrival. Please advise ship and destination. Regards C.”’
‘Hmm.’
‘Do you think they’re trying to pull a fast one?’
‘I’d say it’s more likely that something has come up.’
‘Then shouldn’t they be sharing it with us?’
‘Simmer down,’ Donovan recommended. ‘The deal was that we share Anna, not every scheme or problem the Brits may have. You’ll be seeing Anna in a month, and I’m sure you’ll be able to persuade her to tell you what’s going on. When does she dock in Lisbon?’
‘I think the second.’
‘Five days. Give Bartley the info he wants.’
‘Just like that?’
‘Joe, we have persuaded these people to work with us, at least in this direction. We need to play it straight until we see how things turn out. I can’t see that any crisis involving Anna or what she does has arisen over here, apart from the big one, which both we and MI6 know about. I imagine that Bartley is as uptight as you are, and is uptight because she’s been hanging about over here for the last few weeks instead of hot-footing it back to Berlin. You say she’s got everything she came for?’
‘As far as I know, yes.’
‘And Bartley knows that?’
‘Yes.’
‘And I assume he also knows that you and the Countess are not exactly restricted to surnames only?’
‘Well . . .’
‘It’s an axiom of our business that any controller who gets too fond of one of his people is a risk, both to the agent and himself. And when he gets to the stage of being jealous of her he becomes a walking disaster. I would hate you to go down that road, Joe, although I admit it wouldn’t be difficult. As for Bartley, he’s not our concern.’
‘Anna is. She’s certain to be met by Nazi agents in Lisbon.’
‘Joe, I have an idea that she’s handled this sort of situation before. And we damned well know she can handle situations. Reply to that telegram, absolutely straight, and we’ll keep our fingers crossed.’
‘Yes, sir. And if Anna winds up in Ravensbrueck? Or against a wall?’
‘Joe, I just told you: we are taking on a fully fledged agent who has proved her worth, and her ability, time and again. We can’t play nursemaid. If she goes down the drain, you have my permission to shed a tear. And you know what, I may just join you. Go send that telegram.’
*
Rodrigues the purser was a dapper little man who wore his cap at a rakish angle and was clearly in love with his moustache. But he was equally clearly in love with his most glamorous passenger, as was the entire crew and most of the male passengers. And now he had a reason for approaching her, confidentially. Even if he had no idea how he was going to be received. ‘You’ll excuse me, Countess.’
Anna was sitting in a deckchair on the boat deck, where she was somewhat removed from the rest of the passengers. It was an extremely cold December day, and she was as well wrapped up as she had ever been in Moscow, wearing her sable with a matching hat, a scarf wrapped round the lower half of her face. However uncomfortable, she was waiting for a first sight of land. This was only her second trans-Atlantic voyage, and although to her relief she had not suffered from mal de mer on either occasion, she had been acutely aware that she was challenging the most dangerous stretch of water in the world, right at that moment. Of course, Himmler had guaranteed her safety, but that did not mean that every U-boat captain had received the necessary orders.
But now it was nearly over. And then? She had no idea to what she was returning. But she had just enjoyed, once the Russian business was behind her, the most relaxing period of her life. And despite all that had happened, and might yet happen, she had a greater sense of ultimate security than at any time since March 1938. Both the Brits and the Yanks were now on her side, and surely between them they could accomplish the salvation not only of her but of her parents and Caterina as well.
And land was just over the horizon, after more than a week at sea. They had peeled off from the Liverpool-bound convoy and been able to increase speed two days ago. So she smiled. ‘Certainly, Señor Rodrigues. What can I do for you?’
Rodrigues licked his lips. ‘I have a message for you.’
Anna raised her eyebrows.
‘I’m afraid . . . well . . .’ Nervously he held out the form, on which the radio operator had written: ‘Belinda unwell. Details in Lisbon.’
Anna’s features remained calm, even as her heart pounded. ‘Thank you, Señor Rodrigues.’
‘Is it serious?’
‘I hope not.’
‘Ah. Well, we will soon be in harbour.’ He pointed. ‘Portugal.’
Anna looked to the east, and made out the distant low cloudbank. And what would be awaiting her there? She felt the tension creeping through her body. If she did not know what project Himmler would have dreamed up for her this time, she knew that he, and Hitler, had to be pleased with the news she was bringing back, which meant that they could continue with their plans without fear of American intervention.
But this message . . . Belinda was her contact word, chosen by Baxter in a rare moment of humour, because it was the name of Clive’s English girlfriend. MI6 had to know that she would be met in Lisbon by members of the Embassy staff, that she would hardly be left to herself, and that she would be on her way to Berlin within twenty-four hours. If they intended to attempt personal contact in those circumstances, Belinda had to be very unwell indeed. And yet the thought of perhaps seeing Clive again so soon had her spirits surging. So, back to patience.
*
It was a slow journey past Cascais and up the Tagus, with the sandbanks to starboard and the hills of Estoril to port. But Customs and Immigration came alongside in a launch while they were still underway, and the passengers were all processed by the time they docked.
‘The Countess von Widerstand,’ remarked the Immigration Officer, peering from her passport to her face. ‘You are staying in Portugal?’
‘Sadly, no. I am just passing through, on my way home.’
‘And your home is?’
‘Berlin.’
‘Of course. I will wish you a pleasant stay in our country and a safe onward journey.’
*
‘Countess von Widerstand!’ The slim young man in the well-cut dark suit and the little moustache clicked his heels and bent over her hand. ‘This is a great pleasure. My car is waiting.’
‘My maid, and my things,’ Anna said.
‘They will be taken care of and brought to the Embassy.’
Anna turned to find Birgit, who had become temporarily lost in the throng of passengers behind her, but who now forced her way towards her. ‘It is so goo
d to feel dry land beneath my feet, Countess.’
‘Absolutely. Now, Birgit, I am going with . . .?’
Another click of the heels. ‘Helmuth Essermann, Countess.’
‘And you will be coming with . . .?’
Essermann indicated another very well dressed man, although older and stockily built. ‘Johann Udermann, my assistant. He will see to your transport, Fraulein, as soon as all the luggage is ashore.’
‘Oh.’ Birgit looked disappointed.
‘I will see you at the Embassy,’ Anna assured her, and got into the back seat of the Mercedes saloon. Essermann sat beside her, and the car moved off. ‘May I ask in whose custody I am?’
He gave a quick smile. ‘My dear Countess, I am your escort. My card.’
Anna glanced at it. Shit, she thought. SD! ‘I am flattered, Herr Essermann. Am I in danger, or under arrest?’
Another deprecatory smile. ‘Reichsfuehrer Himmler merely wishes to ensure your safe return, Countess. I am entirely at your disposal.’
Which means, she thought, that you are going to be at my elbow throughout the journey. Well, that was a conundrum Clive would have to solve, as she had no idea where he was.
*
The Ambassador had obviously been given a file on her, and was positively obsequious. As a result, so was his staff.
‘Do you think we could go to a bullfight?’ Birgit asked as she dressed her mistress for dinner. ‘I have always wanted to see a bullfight.’
‘What a bloodthirsty little creature you are,’ Anna commented. ‘I hate to spoil your anticipation, but I think in Portugal they do not actually kill the bull. At least not in the arena.’
‘Oh. Are we going to Spain from here?’
‘We will be driving through Spain, certainly, to catch a train in Madrid. But I understand that is all due to happen tomorrow. Aren’t you in a hurry to get home?’
‘Oh, yes, Countess, but it has been a lovely holiday. Not at all like Moscow. That place, Virginia, oh, it was heavenly. And the people were so nice.’
‘Well, maybe we’ll be able to go back there, one day.’
‘But I don’t understand about that man who came to spend a few days with you.’
‘You mean Mr Andrews? It was his house, goose.’
Angel of Vengeance: The thrilling sequel to Angel in Red (Anna Fehrbach) Page 16