The Sentinels: Fortunes of War

by Gordon Zuckerman

  She pressed her body closer to Mike’s. “We need to make it appear as if you are taking me back to your room. It’s the only way we can get me there without alerting Samson’s suspicions. Our agents are already there, taking up their assigned positions.”

  It took Mike a moment to collect his thoughts. “What about Jacques?”

  “He’s fine where he is. We have agents stationed outside his location. My guess is that men from Samson will wait to follow him back to your hotel, wanting to catch the two of you together. If you don’t mind my being blunt, we were hoping they’d make one last move like this.”

  “Are you saying you used us as bait?”

  “Keep your voice down!” she hissed. “Just do as I say. You can talk to your friend about it when you see him. It was Jacques’ idea.”

  ______

  It was eleven o’clock the next morning when Jacques and Natalie finished breakfast. They had spent an incredible time together, but Jacques knew—and something told him Natalie did, too—that things between them were about to change. Her career was taking off and he would have to remain in hiding until the war was over.

  For a short while, they sat on the edge of the bed together, looking into each other’s eyes.

  “Natalie, I wish the best for you,” Jacques said, pushing a stray strand of hair away from her eyes. “It may be a long time before we see each other again. Why do I believe that while I’m gone, you’re going to be busy conquering the world?”

  She smiled. “And I think you’re about to save it.”

  Jacques stood up, lifted her hand, and reluctantly walked her to the door. With a final kiss, she said, “You know where I’ll be, if you ever want to find me. And I want you to know I’d give it all up… for the right guy.”

  Jacques looked into her brown eyes, which were beginning to tear up. “Natalie, I probably won’t be able to see your beautiful face for a long while, except on billboards,” he said, taking her face in his hands and kissing her gently. “Be happy, and know that I wouldn’t trade our time together for anything.”

  With that, she shut the door behind him, before the tears started streaming down her face.

  ______

  Jacques was walking back to his shabby room in Sculley Square, his mind still on Natalie and the evening they had spent together.How does she manage to be so smart and witty, yet stay so uncomplicated? Life with her could be very interesting. Maybe someday, I could meet her back in New York, where we would both be free to pursue our occupations. She would be the center of attention in public, and we would have our private life together. Isn’t that what I always wanted?

  Wrapped up in his thoughts, Jacques failed to notice the men following him. He entered the hotel, took out his room key to open the door, and stepped fully inside before noticing the cheap-looking woman seated at his and Mike’s three-legged table.

  Confused, he turned toward Mike.

  “Things are not as they appear,” Mike whispered, putting his finger to his lips.

  Mike motioned for Jacques to follow him into the small bathroom. Turning on the water in the sink, he began to whisper into Jacques’ ear.

  “That hooker is actually an undercover Secret Service agent sent here to protect us. Last night, I foolishly made a call to Cecelia, alerting Samson of our presence here.”

  “How did the Secret Service know where we were?”

  “According to the agent, we’ve been under their surveillance since we left Newport. She said that Mr. Ainsworth decided to follow your advice.”

  Jacques nodded his understanding, patting his friend on the back for assurance. He returned to the main room, where the agent had been raising and lowering the torn curtain partially covering the cracked window. She was watching intently but remained silent, as if waiting for something to happen.

  In less than a minute, a military patrol wagon pulled in front of the old hotel. Watching through the window, Jacques couldn’t help but notice how none of the people on the street paid particular attention. Must be a common occurrence around here.

  Four big U.S. Navy patrolmen exited from the rear of the van and made their way into the hotel, up the stairs, and to Mike and Jacques’ room. Hearing three short raps on the door, followed by another two, the agent turned toward Mike and Jacques.

  “The cavalry has just arrived,” she said.

  “You mean we’re going to be rescued?” Mike asked.

  “Sort of. You’re going to be arrested.”

  Chapter 33

  TROUBLE AT LA GAROUPE

  As was her usual custom on her day off, Claudine had accepted an invitation to join a group of the officer-guests for dinner at a small bistro near La Garoupe, in the village of Juan les Pins. The general seated to her right, who was the senior officer present, had been drinking heavily. When he leaned over to pick up his napkin, she felt his hand brush her thigh. At first, she thought it was just a careless error. When he reached over and began to stroke her thigh, she knew it had not been a mistake.

  Claudine could understand why he had decided to get drunk. For Germany and the Axis, the news was almost unfailingly bad since the Allied landing at Normandy earlier in the month. The German army had abandoned Paris and the Italian front had broken down; the Allied forces now occupied Rome. British and American troops were moving steadily toward the western border of Germany, and the Soviet army was in Romania, bringing pressure to bear upon the east. Though Hitler and the other top-ranking officials in the Reich continued to preach and crow about the inevitability of the Reich’s victory, clearly the general seated beside her didn’t share their optimism.

  Not wanting to embarrass the general in front of the junior officers, she removed his hand. Not dissuaded, the general continued his groping. Finally, she reached down, picked up his hand, raised it above the table, and announced in a very loud voice, “There will be no more of that. Keep your fishy hands off the mutton!”

  She rose from the table and exited the restaurant. Using a bicycle borrowed from one of her waiter friends, she began to pedal back to La Garoupe.

  Lying in her bed in her small room at the end of the hall, not far from the rooms where the German officers were billeted, Claudine was thinking of Jacques when she heard the door handle slowly start to turn. When the door failed to open, a massive force slammed against it. The extra latch was no match for the powerful blow. With a loud crash, the door flew open, and in charged the enraged general.

  Claudine’s scream and the sound of the crashing door woke up the rest of the officers. They rushed into her room. Sizing up the situation, the officers pulled the half-naked general off Claudine. Forcefully, they escorted the embarrassed officer back to his room. After placing a guard in front of her door, they retired for the night.

  ______

  The next morning, Claudine, her meager belongings, and her bicycle were nowhere to be found at La Garoupe. The ensuing attempts by Denise, her mother, Queenie and George, as well as the Germans, all failed to locate her. She had vanished, leaving no clues as to where she might have gone.

  Chapter 34

  CHANGING THE STAKES

  The pressure caused by the deteriorating military situation and the urgency of the situation required Erhart Schmidt to meet with his coinvestors once more. Negative reports were frustrating the investors and driving him crazy.

  The Reich was dying, and anyone who wasn’t deluded—like Hitler and his inner circle—could see it. The Romanian oil fields at Ploesti had been bombed again in the spring, and this time, the Soviet army was closing in to finish the job. In the west, Cherbourg had fallen and the Allied forces had landed in southern France.

  The only good news Herr Schmidt had received was that the German government appeared to be so distracted by its war problems, little if any progress had been made in their missing-accounts investigation.

  When he arrived, the atmosphere in the bank boardroom was one of numbing fear and deep depression. Herr Schmidt and his six colleagues knew they were in
trouble. Unlike almost everything else in their lives, which they had been able to control, the problem with the duplicate bonds was beyond their sphere of influence and power. Not knowing who to trust or how to solve their problem was adding fuel to a very dangerous fire.

  The thought of losing their fortunes, their influence, and their industries had created an entirely new feeling of uncertainty and insecurity. Tempers were short. The pitch in their voices and the frequency of foul language in their speech revealed their growing tension. Unwilling to listen now, they only waited to talk.

  The German automaker was the first on his feet when Schmidt entered the room. “Schmidt, what do you mean you failed to capture the Demaureux woman? Having her would have forced her father into negotiations—on our terms. How can this girl slip through the fingers of your supposedly well-trained Samson agents?”

  The normally reserved, bespectacled shipbuilder interrupted before Herr Schmidt could answer Bimmler. “I’ve also heard that Jacques Roth has been discovered alive and eluded you once again. Is it true that after this last effort, Samson has resigned?” concluded Herr Klein.

  “You’ve managed to take one hostage, that Meyer character, but he seems completely out of the loop,” Herr Fleischer said. “None of the information he’s told us is accurate or probably even current anymore. That’s how quickly they operate!”

  Herr von Steuben spoke out. “Herr Schmidt’s attempts at espionage speak for themselves, but I think we should be focusing on agreeing to a better deal that will ensure that we get our bonds back. We can worry about les six cochons at a later date. ”

  Gritting his teeth against the words he wanted to say, Schmidt motioned for a chance to speak. “Gentlemen, believe it or not, there is some good news. Mr. Demaureux has informed me that the duplicate bonds are arriving in Geneva. If they aren’t planning to make a deal, why would they have gone to all the trouble of collecting their bonds and delivering them to Geneva? Meyer, worthless as he has proven to be, will be our best tool in securing a rearrangement of certain terms and conditions… if they want his release. For now, there is no sense in becoming more frustrated than we already are. We have no alternative but to wait for the shipment of the bonds. Only this time, I will go with Karl when he meets his connection, to make sure nothing goes wrong.”

  ______

  As the female Secret Service agent had explained, placing Mike and Jacques under arrest got them out of the hotel without Samson making a move.

  Unfortunately, the federal agents also felt that placing them under protective custody in a holding cell at the sheriff’s office was a necessary precaution. Sitting there in the double cell, the two old friends had plenty of time to think and talk.

  “You know, Mike, when we checked into that old hotel, I was sure that our elevator in life had just hit bottom. I wouldn’t have believed it, but sitting here now, I think it has actually gotten worse.”

  Despite his exhaustion and partial hangover, Mike laughed for a solid minute, wiping his eyes at the end. He looked at his friend. “Jacques, how would you feel about losing me to the West Coast? You’re safe, and our problem appears to be solved. It seems that Tony could still use my help at the ranch, and as you know, I’ve gotten handier lately. I could also be with Cecelia. Now that she’s doing better, I want to spend as much time with her as I can.”

  “Mike, I think your timing works. I need to get over to Europe and help Henri with the agreement to end this whole thing. I’ll book a passage on the clipper to South Hampton, then see if the Demaureux plane can pick me up. That is, if they ever let us out of this joint.”

  ______

  Two days later, seated on the Demaureux plane on the last leg of his trip to Geneva, Jacques read a newspaper headline announcing that an attempt to assassinate Hitler at his Rustenburg headquarters had failed.

  The backlash in Berlin was going to be fierce. No doubt, there would be massive arrests, quick trials, and busy firing squads. The German industrialists would need to get out of there as soon as possible, making it even more important to recover their bonds.

  That may give us even more of an advantage…

  Jacques’ thoughts were interrupted by the appearance of the copilot. “Excuse me, Mr. Roth, but we have been asked to land at an Allied military base just outside of Paris. Apparently, there is something of importance that the bank wants picked up.”

  “Is it a good idea to land out of the safe-fly zone?”

  “The Allies have advanced and are using the airfield as a resupply depot. If you look out the window, you’ll see two British Spitfires starting to firm up off each wing. It looks like we have an escort. Whatever it is that we’re picking up must be pretty important.”

  Secure with the escort, Jacques continued to study the newspaper until the pilot announced the final approach. He looked out the window, beyond the lowered end of the wing, as the plane made its turn.

  My God, there are bomb craters everywhere. The Germans must have been using this very same airfield. Jacques noticed big, smoking piles of scrap metal pushed together on the edge of the runway.

  That’s undoubtedly what’s left of the local attachment of the Luftwaffe. What could be so important that a private bank plane would be landing here?

  Jacques forced himself to concentrate on the newspaper articles so he’d be current with the political climate for his meeting with Henri in a couple of hours.

  I could be making some of the most important decisions of my life—and my friends’ lives. I can’t screw up.

  Focused on his reading, Jacques didn’t look up as the plane’s cargo door was opened. “Hey, buddy, does this plane go to Geneva?” asked somebody climbing up the metal ladder.

  I know that voice!

  Jacques stared in amazement at the person now standing before him in the door of the plane. He had to look twice to be certain it really was Ian.

  Chapter 35

  SHOWDOWN

  Erhart Schmidt spoke without pause as he and Karl Schagel approached Geneva from the east in Schmidt’s private plane.

  “I can’t believe that bomb didn’t kill Hitler! According to my reports, it blew up inside the bunker while they were all inside. This is going to trigger an unbelievable reaction in Berlin. There’s no way to overestimate Hitler’s rage and paranoia. None of us is safe.”

  He turned to Karl. “It is essential that this deal go through exactly as I’m planning. Do you understand, Karl?”

  ______

  The next day, Henri, Karl, and Erhart were seated around the conference table in Henri’s office at the Demaureux Bank. Placed in front of them were copies of each of the contracts and details about how the industrialists had deposited the sixty million dollars in cash in the designated escrow account, along with the additional hundred million dollars in gold bearer bonds required to fund the contingency account.

  Henri had reviewed the contracts and deemed them to be complete. They were simply awaiting execution.

  Schmidt leaned forward as if about to speak, but Henri held up a hand.

  “Excuse me, gentlemen. Before we sign anything, there is someone I’d like to introduce you to.”

  Von Schagel and Schmidt stared in disbelief as Jacques entered the room. Although they were aware that he was alive, they weren’t expecting to see him at their meeting.

  Despite his surprise, Herr Schmidt reluctantly rose out of his chair and extended his hand. “Young man, it’s not often that I shake the hand of someone who has caused me so much trouble. If we may begin this meeting, I believe I have a way to put it all behind us.”

  Jacques ignored Schmidt’s outstretched hand.

  “Strange as it may seem, I am not willing to shake the hand of a man responsible for so much death and destruction. Frankly, it disturbs me to be in the same room with you. But I have come here with something to say, so I strongly suggest you return to your chair and listen carefully.”

  Never in his entire life had Schmidt been treated so rudely—not even
when Hitler was acting his worst. His face reddening, he dropped into his chair, speechless. Karl and Henri had never seen anything like it, either. All eyes were on Jacques, standing calm and confident on one side of the long conference table, staring directly into the eyes of Herr Schmidt, a powerful, rich, and influential man who was now frustrated and utterly confused.

  “Well, what is it that’s so important?”

  “Herr Schmidt, Herr von Schagel, Monsieur Demaureux… I have come to tell you that we are no longer prepared to complete the deal.”

  Schmidt’s jaw dropped.

  “Originally, my colleagues and I were prepared to go ahead with the proposed transaction, going so far as to deliver the bonds as promised. But on my way here, I started to think about how, despite Henri’s warning, you have continued to authorize attacks against us. In fact, the United States Secret Service has all the evidence they need to prove the connection between you and the Samson organization. Samson’s files have been confiscated and arrests are being made as we speak.”

  Schmidt opened his mouth to say something but seemed to choke on the words.

  “In addition to everything else,” Jacques continued, “that means you are going to have some very disturbed friends in America as well.”

  Jacques picked up one of the documents before him. “No one would ever disagree that a hundred million dollars is a lot of money to turn down. But you have to understand that this situation was never about money. It’s an issue of what kind of world we want to live in. When this war is over, everyone around the globe will undoubtedly accuse Hitler and his National Socialist German Workers Party of responsibility for all that has happened. But there are some of us who will know the truth.”