by S C Brown
‘Gone?’
‘I have had to cut them out of any future work by my network in case you get them caught.’ Eve sat back upright, any trick to make Oberon relax hadn’t worked, if anything it was making him more nervous. ‘Listen, you have been given your job, I have got mine. Your mission is on my patch and yet I have no say in whether this stupid mission goes ahead or not. I have no say in how the job should be carried out either. Going for Berner like this is pure suicide.
‘You would do well to remember,’ he continued, barely stopping to draw breath, ‘that I am here and I am alive and I run a network that has Paris covered from top to bottom. I have lost some good agents over the years but I have been here since ’42 and so far so good.’
Eve sought to smooth things over again, using flattery this time. ‘There’s no question about your effectiveness. London sent me here because all other matters in Paris had been so well covered by yourself,’ she lied.
Oberon didn’t take the bait. ‘Berner’s the best they have and going after him is asking for trouble.’
‘All I have to do is watch him,’ she protested.
‘I know that, but if Berner realises that you’re after him he will come for you and then he will come for me. You can protest as much as you like Eve but I have my own safety and the safety of my people at stake. Berner’s just too good to antagonise. That is why you will receive no more help from me. Nothing, nothing at all. All being well, please take no offence, but you will never see me again. You do your thing, I will do mine. Do not come to me for help, signals, weapons, batteries, people, anything. You understand? Not a thing.’
Eve waited patiently for him to finish.
‘That way if you are taken you can betray nothing. No one. You only know my codename, not my real name, not anything about me. The team I have given you are the team who know least about Oberon’s activities. You will send your own signals, you will operate entirely on your own. Understand?’
‘I understand you loud and clear.’ Eve breathed out. ‘Apart from the team that you have very kindly given over to me, I am in all other regards on my own.’
Oberon wasn’t for stopping. ‘Lastly, you will not take part in any other operations apart from the one you have been given. You will do that one job and that one job alone. I don’t care what anyone says. And certainly don’t think because you can watch someone in a building you’re good enough to start your own network in this city. Don’t contact me: if you have anything for me, send it via London, I will do the same. There will be no more direct contact between my network and you.’
‘That’s all very clear’. Eve raised her eyebrows, wondering what to say next. ‘Would you like something else to drink? I could offer a glass of wine?’
He gave the answer Eve had hoped for.
‘No thank you,’ said Oberon standing up. ‘I want to be gone as quickly as possible. You will visited by a man called Franck this evening. He leads the team that is to support you. By the look of you he will enjoy working with your sort. If you want to start work tomorrow, go ahead. One last thing, don’t bring the Germans back here.’
‘I understand, Monsieur, I get it completely. You would prefer it if I was back in Britain, yes?’
Oberon cracked a smile for the first time, put on his hat and let himself out. After he had left, Eve made sure the apartment door was shut, leaned back against it, breathed out and laughed.
* * *
‘Dressed as a civilian today, Sergeant Brunswick?’ Walter Berner asked, amused.
‘Oh yes,’ came the smiling response. ‘Today is not the sort of day where I want to attract too much attention to myself. Anything interesting happening?’ asked Brunswick, indicating the two signal messages in Berner’s hand.
Berner looked down. ‘I suppose so. Another German Counter Intelligence officer has been killed. Brussels this time, and again, almost certainly by the British. They’re having some success in killing us all off.’
‘Too good to be random, that’s for certain. The British are doing this on purpose.’ Brunswick settled into an armchair and lit up a cigarette.
‘That’s my view too - a view shared by Berlin. They say they may have a lead. It seems the BBC broadcast very similar messages on the night before an attack is made. It’s clever: the next message to go out will put us all on edge. It could be a ruse to get us all to stay at home for the night whilst the British and French get to work on the railways again.’
‘So we can’t predict where the next attack could be.’ Not waiting for his boss to offer, Brunswick walked to the drinks cabinet and poured himself a Schnapps. ‘On edge?’ he asked.
Berner had been deep in thought, looking out of the window. ‘I’m sorry?’
‘All this murdering of counter-intelligence officers. People like you. Surely you must feel threatened? I mean, let’s face it, you’ve had plenty of success against the British over the years, haven’t you. The Brits would love to see you gone.’
Berner stared ahead into nothingness. ‘Yes, I do - and no I don’t. Yes, of course I’m exactly the type the British would like to see dead. I’ve made fools of them. But very few people know I am here. It’s difficult to kill someone when you don’t know where they are.’
‘I wouldn’t be so sure if I was you.’ Brunswick sat down to give that last statement gravitas.
Berner turned round quickly. ‘What?’
‘This building is being watched. Whoever’s doing the watching, they’re not very good but the Hotel Majestic is definitely under surveillance. I can’t say for certain whether it’s you they’re watching or just the building. So I would stop staring out that window if I were you. Corporal Steinseck saw you himself yesterday from across the street.’
‘Who are they?’
‘They’re French and they’re amateur-looking. My money’s on it being the city Resistance instead of French in German pay.’
‘Go on.’
‘Not much more to tell. Six men working in three shifts of two, in the café just opposite. Men trying not to look bored, sipping cold coffee very slowly, chatting, and pretending to read newspapers. The usual stuff. They don’t operate regular shifts, at least they’ve got that bit right. I couldn’t guess how long they’ve been doing this but they sure look fed up. That’s probably why they’re not very subtle – they’re a little past caring. I am going to follow them home tomorrow, find out where they’re basing themselves from.’
‘Do you know who is leading them?’
‘Too early to say. I should have an answer in the next few days.’
‘Too long. I want an answer quickly.’
‘Worried they’re going to kill you?’
‘No, you’re going to prevent that for me. What I want is to start tracking French networks to see if they have British agents amongst them.’
‘Well, if you’re in a hurry,’ Brunswick went on, ‘there’s one sure-fire way of finding out for certain if it’s you they are looking for.’
‘The good old fashioned cat and mouse game?’
Brunswick nodded.
‘With me as the mouse, I presume?’
Brunswick nodded again. ‘That’s the one, Sir. They won’t kill you in broad daylight, that’s way too dangerous. But we don’t want the Abwehr or the SS seeing you. So you’ll have to balance it out: you’re either in a hurry or you’re cautious, you probably can’t be both.’
Berner calculated the odds before turning to his Sergeant. ‘I could do with a bit of fresh air, if I am being honest.’
‘You’re the boss, but what if the SS or local Abwehr spot you? Schneider won’t be pleased, will he?’
‘We could do it and stay very close to the hotel. Brunswick, I need to find a British network. Ten minutes and we’re done, that’s all you’d need isn’t it? If the SS or Abwehr spots me, then I will say I’m here on routine business with the General. I’ll ask the General to corroborate my story beforehand. Easy. If we play this right, we could be trailing two networks, one
here, one in Normandy, by the end of the week.’
‘Is that what the other signal message is about?’
‘Yes. Berlin has picked up transmissions in the Rouen area that no one else is onto yet. It’s probably the agent playing havoc on the railways up there. So let’s see if we can get something on the men in the café before you head off to Normandy.’
Brunswick’s plans had clearly just changed. ‘Will you be coming to Rouen with me?’
‘No, not yet anyway.’
‘OK then,’ sighed Brunswick, ‘let’s plan your little walk through the back streets of Paris.’
* * *
Edouard seemed to be enjoying his job of introducing new men to Eve at her door.
Her next visitor was Franck. After her chat with Oberon that afternoon, Eve was not expecting anyone too competent. Franck was strong and straightforward but smarmy. He seemed up to the job and reliable enough but, Eve thought, he seemed particularly pleased to be working with Eve by the way he kept eyeing up her legs.
It did not take long for Eve to strike up a conversation with Franck, if that was his real name. Franck recounted how he had been on the run since the Germans invaded, found his way back to Paris and eventually was put to work by Oberon’s predecessor following people and doing some courier work.
‘You know who the target is?’ asked Eve.
‘I know what he looks like,’ said Franck in a matter of fact way, ‘but, if it’s OK with you, I don’t want to know anything more about him unless I have to. It’s safer that way.’
‘As you wish. What have you learned about the target from what you have seen so far?’
‘Hardly anything at all. He’s in there all right, in the Governor’s HQ in the Majestic that is. We have seen him stood at the window from time to time but never for very long. So he’s deliberately staying hidden and that tells us something straight away.’
‘All the other intelligence officers in Paris, and there are a lot of them, are on Avenue Foch, they have no qualms in going out and about in town in full view of people like you and me. You see them out at the restaurants and theatres all the time. I don’t think that many of them feel threatened here. So when a man stays in the shadows and doesn’t venture out, that is something different. What exactly it is telling us we don’t yet know but he’s acting differently to all the rest. Unless they smuggled him out in the back of a car, he hasn’t gone anywhere near Avenue Foch, not once since we started looking for him, and it’s only around the corner. I know one of the girls who works on the Avenue and no one new has turned up. I guess that either he doesn’t like the people on Avenue Foch, they don’t like him, or he doesn’t want the boys and girls on Avenue Foch to know he’s here.
‘I have no idea of what his daily routine is or whether he has been smuggled around and about in the back of a vehicle where we cannot see him. I think that he is inside the Governor’s HQ today but as I say, until I see him again I cannot be certain.’
‘Thank you, Franck. That’s very good. I will report that back to London today if that is all right with you?’
‘You do what you like. I would prefer, as I said earlier, to be involved in as little as possible with the details of the mission and anything to do with communicating with London.’
‘Fine by me,’ said Eve cheerfully, happy in Franck’s company if not a little perturbed by just how often his eyes would wander. ‘I could come to the café today if you want,’ Eve was careful to not mention her recent chat with Oberon at all, ‘I am keen to get out of this building and get underway and perhaps see the target in the person for the first time. I haven’t been in Paris for years and I am itching to get out and about.’
‘Have you been here since the war has been on?’
‘No, no I haven’t.’
‘In that case, permit me, Mademoiselle, but the city has changed a lot since then. I have only known Paris since the Germans have been here, whereas you are the opposite. I am conscious that makes you slightly out of your depth until you are fully used to it.’
‘You could show me the ropes, couldn’t you?’ Eve was happy to let Franck patronise her a little if it made him feel better but any tips on how to stay alive in Paris right now would be gold dust to Eve.
‘Why yes, of course, but I don’t want you going out on your own for a while until I am sure that you can deal with the checkpoints. We can go soon to the café, I will send word ahead so that we don’t surprise the boys on watch now, if that’s OK with you. It would break the monotony of my men’s routine.’
‘Just one question, Franck: how long have you been using that café?’
‘A couple of weeks, day in, day out, you know.’
‘Franck,’ Eve pleaded. ‘You have to find somewhere else. If you keep using the same place, you’ll become predicable and that’s how you get arrested.’
Franck smiled proudly. ‘Your tutors have taught you well - but this is Paris, we do things our way over here.’
Eve wasn’t convinced as she went to get her coat.
* * *
‘They’ve got Michel.’
‘You’re certain?’
‘No doubt about it. They must have come very early in the morning. No one got to hear it and so no one knows exactly when they came for him or where he went. It must have been a quick in and out job, no big gestures. They must only have used a couple of trucks or cars. Low profile. What they did for Michel was completely different to anything the Germans have done around here before. Michel’s front door was open when I walked past this morning. I went in, looked around, and he’s not there. All I found was a small bag packed up as if he was going somewhere. The place was tidy, I don’t think there was a struggle, or if there was, it couldn’t have been much of one.’
Paul dragged heavily on his cigarette and listened carefully to his men. ‘Any blood, any sign of a shooting?’
‘Nothing.’
Paul swore silently to himself. ‘Where do you think they took him?’
‘Don’t know. I think me and the boys need to take a look in Rouen to find out if anyone there saw anything during curfew.’
‘No. Get someone else to do all the asking and looking. Send the girls on a shopping trip if needs be but don’t go into the city – you will stand out and be arrested in no time. It’s too dangerous, you hear me? All the men who worked closest with Michel are to leave home today and be placed in the safe houses.’
‘As you wish. To be honest, that’s how we figured you would want to play it anyway, I have the girls already stood by to go. See you tonight. That’s not the end of it, though. There’s more.’
Another long drag on the cigarette ensued. ‘More?’ asked Paul.
‘They raided your house this morning too.’
Chapter Six
In his suit, Lieutenant Colonel Walter Berner, looked quite inconspicuous, which was just as well. No one paid him the slightest attention as he walked downstairs, to the front door, across the small courtyard and straight out of the Hotel Majestic and onto Avenue Kléber. The sentries didn’t move a muscle as he passed them.
Berner had not been outdoors in days and it felt good to be in the clear, crisp, air. As instructed by Brunswick, Berner stood on the pavement for just a few seconds, effectively announcing his presence to those in the café, before pulling up his collar against the cold. Sure he had waited long enough, he set off slowly, away from the Arc de Triomphe and down the long, straight, busy, avenue ahead.
He walked quickly at first to get away from the crowds and any Germans that may recognise him. He gave a sideways glance into the café, where he just made out Brunswick sat in the front window. Brunswick used his eyes to point out to Berner the young-looking couple next to him. Brunswick was clearly amused.
Berner settled into a steady pace along the predetermined route. With no leaves on the trees, Berner knew it would be easy keeping tabs on him, just as he wanted. He did not look behind but instead up and across into the windows of the three and four store
y buildings that lined the avenue. He was quite enjoying himself. There was little traffic and the streets were empty enough to ensure Berner could be seen from most angles.
He passed the first of Brunswick’s pre-positioned men, who was in uniform, smoking on the pavement at the five-ways junction. Berner glanced at the soldier whose attention was elsewhere, seemingly oblivious to the other man’s existence. Berner stopped, crossed the road and ambled down the narrow, less glamorous Rue de l'Amiral Hamelin. The Eiffel Tower peeked its head above the roofs. He wondered what the view must be like from up there.
A little further on, he realised he was in a potentially dangerous location. If the French team were following him, they could easily drag him into one of the narrow-fronted buildings before Brunswick’s men could intervene. Berner sauntered over the crossroads, not looking back. He kept a steady pace, his ears listening hard for any footsteps coming up from behind.
A young man was leaning against some ornate gates on the other side of the street, reading a newspaper, The man glanced up and looked straight into Berner’s eyes before returning to his paper. This had to be one of the Frenchmen following him. Berner felt his heart rate rise and his palms moisten. Berner watched the man fold up his newspaper, stub out his cigarette and step out to cross the road towards him. Berner had to force himself to keep walking at the same pace and not betray his emotions. He felt his shirt collar turn cold and wet. The man joined the pavement only yards in front of him. Berner kept walking. The man slowed to let Berner past and glanced straight at him again. The man looked nervous and uncertain. Berner walked past and kept listening, and soon heard the footsteps: the man was following. Berner continued to look straight ahead, and kept walking. When he glanced over his shoulder to check the traffic and in his peripheral vision, Berner could see the man was still following him.
At the next crossroads, Berner walked past two of Brunswick’s men waiting in the shadow of a doorway. Berner felt safer but still vulnerable. Berner turned left into Rue de Lübeck with the Frenchman still behind him but by the sounds of it, he was dropping back. Berner turned left once more and out into the rectangular Place des États-Unis. A car rumbled loudly along the cobbled roadway, the passenger, his eyes shadowed by the cap he wore, didn’t drop his gaze from Berner once. Still he kept going. It would soon be time for the switch, he thought.