Angel of Vengeance: The thrilling sequel to Angel in Red (Anna Fehrbach)

by Christopher Nicole

  The nurse came along the corridor. ‘I’m afraid time is up, Countess.’ She gazed at them. ‘What is the matter?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Anna said. ‘I am sure one of the machines has stopped.’

  The nurse pushed her aside. Her practised eye took in the situation at a glance. ‘My God!’ she said. ‘There is no pulse. You,’ she shouted at the guard. ‘Fetch Sister!’

  He ran down the corridor.

  ‘What has happened?’ Anna asked.

  ‘The Reich-Protector is dead.’

  ‘Dead?’ Anna cried. ‘Dead?’ she shrieked. ‘He can’t be dead. He opened his eyes. He saw me.’

  ‘Then you are the last person he ever saw.’

  Anna sank into a chair. ‘My God!’ she muttered. ‘What a catastrophe. For me. For the Reich. For the world!’

  ‘Here is Sister,’ the nurse said gratefully.

  *

  Was it really over? Anna felt that she was swimming in sweat as she sat in the back of the command car to be driven back to the castle. Behind her the hospital was in a state of complete panic, but the doctors had recognized that she was distraught and had virtually ordered her to go home and lie down; they had even given her a packet of sedatives if she felt she needed them. As for Heydrich, there would be a post-mortem, but that could prove nothing beyond the fact that he had simply stopped breathing.

  She was determined to get out of Prague and back to Berlin just as rapidly as possible. There was no more reason for either Zeydorf or Feutlanger to keep the city sealed, if they really did have the would-be assassins trapped in that church. She could, in fact, hear the distant sound of firing; the operatives must still be holding out. Brave men, who had done the best they could until they were betrayed. And she could not help them. Nor, presumably, could she help Corda. He must also be praying that they would die before they could be forced to reveal his part in the conspiracy. As for the traitor . . .

  And what did she feel? At that moment, nothing. But she would feel, soon enough. If she had dreamed of Heydrich’s death for three years, she had also, during those three years, been closer to him than to any other man. Or woman. He had asked her to marry him. And she had responded by carrying out the most cold-blooded of all her assassinations. Of course he had deserved to die. Of course she felt she had had the right, the duty, to kill him. But that could not negate the guilt of having done so.

  The streets were crowded with agitated people. If they could not yet know that Heydrich was dead, they knew of the attempt on his life, and of the fighting going on at the church. It took her driver over half an hour to regain the castle, while at every pause people stared at her through the windows, often, as she was driving in a German car with a Swastika on the bonnet, shouting curses at her and some even spitting. ‘They are swine,’ the driver commented.

  She hurried up the steps and into the great hall. Above all else she wanted a bath. Progress through the hall was also slow, as it was crowded with people, all shouting at each other. Several shouted at her, as her relationship with Heydrich was well known, but she ignored them and finally reached the grand staircase. As she placed her foot on the first step, a quiet voice said, ‘A word, please, Countess.’

  Anna hesitated. But she was going to have to confront him at some time, so it might as well be now. ‘Why, Herr Feutlanger, I had gained the impression that you were avoiding me.’

  ‘I have been very busy, as I am sure you understand. But now . . .’

  He gestured towards the door to the Gestapo offices, and she stepped in front of him. She knew she had to be aggressive, dominating, but was taken entirely by surprise as she stepped through the opened door and had her arms seized by a man standing on each side of the opening. The door slammed shut behind her, and she was forced across the room to a desk; her groin struck the edge of the wood and she fell forward, her face bumping on the blotter.

  Desperately she gasped for breath. ‘Have you gone mad?’ she shouted.

  She felt hands on her buttocks, squeezing the flesh through her dress. ‘I have looked forward to this moment for two years,’ Feutlanger said.

  Anna tried to get up, but the two men were holding her arms wide apart, and pressing them down on the desk to leave her unable to move anything except her head and her legs, and she felt that to kick backwards would be as dangerous as it would be futile.

  ‘You have gone mad,’ she declared, fighting back the rising tide of panic that was threatening to overwhelm her. ‘When the Reichsfuehrer learns of this . . .’

  The fingers continued to massage her flesh, and now the hands moved lower, to raise her dress. ‘By the time he does, Fraulein, you will have confessed to everything. You will confirm what Corda has told us.’

  Oh, my God! Her worst nightmare. She gave another convulsive heave, but the men holding her arms were too strong for her.

  ‘But first, let us soften you up a little.’ His fingers dug into her flesh as he ripped her cami-knickers. ‘As I said, I have waited a long time for . . . What the devil?’

  The door had swung open. ‘What are you doing, Herr Feutlanger?’ Haussmann demanded.

  ‘Whatever I am doing, it is no business of yours,’ Feutlanger snapped.

  ‘But it is business of mine,’ said another voice.

  It was a familiar voice, even if Anna could not immediately place it. Then she wanted to scream with joy and relief.

  ‘And who are you?’ Feutlanger inquired.

  ‘I am Colonel Hellmuth Essermann, of the Reichsfuehrer’s personal staff. I have come to take the Countess von Widerstand back to Berlin.’

  Feutlanger’s hands slipped away as he stood straight. ‘You . . .’

  ‘Here is my authority.’

  Anna’s arms were released, and she pushed herself straight, pulling down her dress. She turned to face Feutlanger, who stepped backwards as he looked into her eyes.

  ‘We are to leave immediately, Countess,’ Essermann said.

  Anna drew a long breath, and let it go, slowly. ‘I intend to see you again, Herr Feutlanger,’ she said in a low voice. ‘Very soon.’ She went to the door. ‘Colonel Essermann,’ she said. ‘You are growing on me.’

  EPILOGUE

  ‘So Himmler came up trumps,’ I suggested.

  ‘His peculiar sense of honour demanded it, ‘Anna said. ‘My fear, as I told you, was that he would decide to write me off, or that he would not get to me in time.’

  ‘But how did you explain the evidence Feutlanger had obtained from Corda against you?’

  ‘Heinrich was really a very simple soul. I told him that I had learned of a plot against Heydrich’s life while attending Corda’s music classes, and as my endeavours to obtain something incriminating against the Reich-Protector had proved unsuccessful, and I knew that time was running out, I decided to encourage it. Oh, he said that I should have reported it to him to make the decision, but he was so pleased that Heydrich was dead he did not press the matter.’

  ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘But Corda knew that you were a British agent.’

  Anna shook her head. ‘Corda knew what I had told him. I explained to Heinrich that when they discovered that I knew about the plot, the assassins were going to execute me. The only way I could save my life was to convince them that I was a British agent. I did not, of course, tell him how I had done that.’

  ‘Did you tell him that it was you who actually completed the job?’

  ‘No. I have never told anyone that, not even Clive or Joe. You are the first.’

  I felt a glow of mental intimacy. But I had to ask, ‘And the repercussions?’

  Anna hugged herself. ‘Lidice? That was terrible. I still have nightmares about it. I can only say that I warned London what was likely to happen, and they said that they, and the Czech Resistance, believed that it would be worth it, to prevent Heydrich ever becoming Fuehrer. Perhaps they were right. I have to hope they were.’

  ‘And did you ever catch up with Feutlanger again?’

  Anna gazed
at me, and I felt a distinct chill. ‘I always pay my debts, Christopher.’

  I swallowed. ‘So, was Heydrich your greatest coup?’

  ‘Oh, no. There were bigger fish in the sea.’

  ‘Ah. Yes. Of course. May I ask a question?’

  ‘Is that not what you have been doing since we first met?’

  ‘Well . . . did you ever sleep with the Fuehrer?’

  Anna Fehrbach merely smiled.

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