by Dick Hardman
“That is a foreign name, where do you come from?” Henryk sensed a slight hardening of her expression, although she appeared to be as warm and friendly as before. Everyone is suspicious of strangers who might be spies, in this place, that is all it is, he thought.
“I am from Poland; I was an apprentice machinist, but I studied to become a science teacher, and left as a refugee. I work as a machinist here, but you know the rules, I can’t say more.
”What about you Jane?”
“I float from job to job, filling in when people are ill or as I am needed. I never do anything technical, just general labour.”
Henryk felt a sudden chill and he looked around uneasily, although there seemed to be no threat; it was just his tired distrustful mind conflicting with primal urges. When he looked back at Jane, her face had tensed; she was still smiling but he sensed deceit. The girl picked up her sandwich and held the triangle of bread in both hands. She took a decisive bite from the middle and used the chewing time, to think.
Henryk gazed adoringly at her flawless skin and manicured nails, and wondered where this meeting would lead. What was it about her slender shapely body, fitting so snugly into those spotless overalls? How did she manage to get the perfect size?
“Do you know anyone else here Henryk?”
“No Jane, I have only been here two and a half days. I am a bit of a loner, the people are friendly enough, but they have their own little groups and I have not fitted in yet.”
“What would you say if I asked you to a party tonight? Some of the people here want to celebrate Christmas early? We all meet at the pub just down the road, straight from work.
“Do say you will come with me Henryk.” Jane was quite determined to get him to take her.
“Sounds like great fun, but I have no money, I am down to my last threepenny piece.”
“I understand, but I will give you a few shillings, so it looks like you are buying me a drink. It is jolly bad form for ladies to buy drink, makes them look like, well, you know!”
“No, I don’t know actually, I am not familiar with British customs. I will come though, I will not pass up a chance to be in the company of such a beautiful girl.”
“Oh! Henryk, you have made me blush, no one has ever said that to me before.” She did not blush though, and bit into the sandwich again.
Her scent was fragrant and subtle. Oddly it evoked memories of Anna and Andrzej’s noisy encounter in the next room, back in Alderney. He badly needed to be with a woman again, and was unable to remain focussed exclusively on the mission.
Suddenly the alarm sounded to return to work, time was against them for further conversation.
“So Henryk, we will meet at the main entrance at end of shift, and we can enjoy the evening together.”
“I can hardly wait, Jane.”
Anna has a date. 21st December 1943
Anna flopped into bed, physically and mentally exhausted after the robbery, and fell into a comatose sleep. A familiar but incomprehensible din drew her back into consciousness, it was her alarm clock. She leapt up and out of bed in a state of confusion, jabbing the large chrome off button, to silence it.
The thought of another day’s work at the Gant’s Hill underground factory turned her stomach, and she hastily relieved herself into the piss pot. She knew MI5 and the police would leave no stone unturned to find the four of them. Anna wanted to cry, she would have to face a ruthless interrogation if she went to work, but arrest if she didn’t. They would see her absence as an admission of guilt.
In the factory, the radio played music over the hubbub of voices and electric machinery, to keep morale high, and everyone working quickly at their machines like automatons.
Her senses were tuned for trouble as she worked the power press, stamping out metal components for a plane. The short trill of the whistle for lunch startled her like a gun shot.
Anna had hoped to sit near Henryk for support, but by the time she handed over to her relief and rushed to the canteen, it was almost full.
She grabbed a seat and silently ate her lunch. Imagining that everyone was secretly watching her made her feel jumpy. It was then a handsome man, in his mid-30s, joined the table. When he managed to catch her eye he smiled at Anna. She flushed up with embarrassment and looked away.
The man got up and asked the old woman seated next to Anna if he could swap places with her. The woman was about to object, but realised that romance was in the air, and smiled weakly as she slid along the bench seat. In a panic, Anna’s mouth suddenly went dry and she desperately gulped hot tea from her white enamel mug.
“You’re Anna Gohl aren’t you?” The young man asked, smiling.
“I am Anna. What is your name?” She had managed to express the two phrases so they sounded oddly sociable. The man appeared not to have noticed.
“Andrew Havelock at your service. That is a Swiss name isn’t it?” He sounded sincere and keen to be her friend.
“Do you know about me?” This was the best phrase she could think of and because she said it as if she were curious about what he knew, it sounded appropriate.
Andrew faltered when he realised it sounded as though he had been snooping on her.
“I asked around, and that was all I was told. Then I saw you, and just had to meet you. I would like to take you out to a party tonight. A few of us here are off to the pub, when the shift ends. It’s just along the road. Do say you will come. Please!”
Anna was on her guard. She had spoken to no one about her name or nationality since she started work here, three days ago. Someone might have found out her name, but her nationality could only be a shrewd guess. Either that or someone had been poking around in her records.
She was expecting to be called in for interrogation, could this be some sort of trick? If she agreed to go with him, there was a big risk of being found out. If she declined, it might look suspicious, like she had rumbled him and had something to hide. The man was of film star quality. Any girl would be glad to be seen with him, and it would make the old whores outside her flat extremely jealous.
“I would love to go. That is so kind of you. I have no friends. Where shall we rendezvous?” Andrew processed the string of phrases as though it was a complex equation, and then smiled again as he replied.
“My dear Anna, the pleasure is all mine I can assure you. Shall we meet at the main entrance at end of shift? No time to get dressed up of course, but don’t worry about that, most people will be in their work clothes. So let the celebrations begin!”
The whistle blew signalling the end of lunch, and everyone filed out to start work again.
Peter’s despair. Evening 21st December 1943
Peter was in a hurry now. Anna and Henryk would be leaving work soon and he had to check that they were safe. He did not intend to approach them, just observe and see whether they were being followed.
He guessed the security forces or police would not show their hand by arresting their suspect on the spot; they would most likely tail them, hoping to catch the others when they made contact.
Peter quickly changed back into his old clothes in his hotel room, and walked briskly to his observation spot near the Gant’s Hill entrance. First he saw Anna loitering there, and then Henryk. They ignored each other.
A young man dressed in casual clothes greeted Anna and they walked off together arm in arm, smiling and chatting. Peter was unsure whether he should follow, or watch Henryk. Moments later, a beautiful young girl also wearing casual clothes, grabbed Henryk’s arm and they walked off, following Anna and her man.
Peter guessed what MI5 were doing, this was a honey trap, for all the new employees at the factory who would be on their list of suspects, not just Anna and Henryk. There would also be watchers sneaking around, and he had no way of warning them. The watchers would immediately spot an approach, to any of the suspects.
This was going to be a testing time for Henryk and Anna, as they joined in with the lively party mood. All the hazards a sp
y would seek to avoid would be present. In this happy mood, strangers were liable to socialise and ask awkward questions; the effects of alcohol had to be resisted to keep wits sharp, and avoid fatal mistakes. Clutching the same drink all night, and refusing new ones, would not be realistic if they wished to blend in and remain invisible.
Then of course there was a partner, hell-bent on getting to know everything about them. Both Anna and Henryk were normal, attractive people. There might be no other reason for their partner wanting to take them out, other than they simply liked them. Suspicion was essential to a spy’s survival, but just because the spy was suspicious, it did not mean they were always right.
Peter left, and headed back to Andrzej’s rented house, feeling sad and desolate on his own. He had become fond of his team, he was responsible for protecting them and achieving success with the mission. All this weighed heavily on his shoulders and it was sapping his resolve. He had never failed in anything he set his mind to. People trusted and relied on him, it had been this way all his life. Up until now, he had always worked alone on missions, but now he had to think and plan for the others, as well as himself.
Experience had taught him that no matter how carefully a plan is developed, and no matter what contingencies are allowed for, there will always be the unexpected to deal with. His talent for thinking on his feet and coming up with the right answer, had kept him safe and alive. He was unable to do this for the others, if he was not with them.
Then there was his constant preoccupation with Helga. Was her love for him as strong as his for her? Had she resumed relations with the Oberst? If she had, then he was wasting his time even thinking about her. If she hadn’t, the Oberst would realise that she had been unfaithful to him, and might send her back to Germany. How would he track her down, if she left Alderney?
Sick with despair, an emotion he had not yet experienced, he braced himself for the evening ahead. He was eager to listen to the public radio broadcast, for the replies from Germany, expecting confirmation of the beacon test and that they would send Ernst Huber to help him.
***
While Andrzej prepared an evening meal, Peter settled down and tuned into the German public broadcast band. He waited for Lord Haw-Haw to finish. The following messages confirmed the beacon test could go ahead, but that Ernst Huber would not be sent to England to help him. He knew there would be a message drop the next day, giving full details.
There was also a chilling message, one he was not expecting. “Sundown is late.”
From Peter’s point of view, there was no code interpretation for the message. It was either spurious, meant for another person, or a desperate warning for him. The fact that it followed both expected responses, indicated that Peter must exercise great caution. Normally late implied dead.
Peter kept the news to himself and headed back to the hotel at 10.00pm. He had to think what it all meant and the effect on the mission.
What would the message at the dead drop in the morning, say about Sundown?
How would he manage without Ernst Huber?
He would brief his team on the beacon installation, tomorrow evening at 10.00pm. They had better be at the rendezvous on time, there was so much to plan and prepare for. Thank goodness his team were so reliable and, hopefully, still intact. In his present state of mind, he truly believed he couldn’t function without them.
Only then did he let his thoughts drift back to Helga, and speculate about a future together.
Anna plays her hand. 21st December 1943
At two hours to midnight, the party began breaking up. Everyone was keen to get to bed, and later, many would be getting up from that warm bed to go home.
Anna enjoyed Andrew’s company, he was charming and intelligent, and she hardly noticed his skilful probing questions, which she had no trouble in answering. She did her own probing, but had no way of checking that what he said was true, only that he did not contradict himself or make any mistakes.
“I hope you will allow me to escort you home Anna. I want to spend as much time in your presence as you will permit.”
“I would love that. I must warn you, I live in a bad street. Prostitutes work there. They are rude. They say hateful things to me.”
“Times are very hard Anna, they do not possess your beauty and brains, and they are lazy. They do the only thing they can to get money. They are just jealous of you, so ignore them.”
He stood up and as he reached for her coat, he clumsily stood hard on her foot.
“Aargh! That is so painful.” The shock caused her to react spontaneously and without thought. Andrew had deliberately hurt her. He was expecting her to exclaim in her mother tongue but now he was confused. She spoke in English, not Swiss. What was going on?
He apologised profusely and Anna soon calmed down. She indignantly snatched back her coat and refused to let him help her. Having expressed her annoyance, they squeezed through the crowded room and left. The pain in her toes was almost gone, so she relented and they walked arm in arm.
Andrew was with MI5, Anna was now convinced. She had been warned about this and similar tricks. How could she get rid of him without arousing suspicion? She also guessed what he was going to try when he got her home.
The rain started to fall heavily and they quickly ran the last 200 yards, to Anna’s flat. She was relieved to see the rain had also driven the ladies of the night to seek shelter in shop doorways, so they did not shout out as they ran past.
***
Up in Anna’s flat, they threw off their wet coats and hung them over the back of a chair.
“Would you like a cup of tea, Andrew? I have condensed milk, but no sugar. Sorry.”
“Black tea will be perfect, thank you Anna.”
She used the distraction of making tea to figure out which way to play this spy. He seemed the perfect man, handsome, funny and smart. She found him so easy to get along with, perhaps she could string him along. She craved passion and knew instinctively that he would be a consummate lover.
Her mind drifted back to that fantastic night in Alderney with Peter, quickly followed by noisy love making with Andrzej (Andreas). The thought of him made her wonder what he was doing now, with Peter.
Andrew was pacing the very small room, idly chatting about a recent speech Churchill had made. He leaned back against door to the flat and secretly turned the key, to lock it.
Anna had poured the tea, but for the moment it was too hot to drink.
Seizing the opportunity, Andrew put his arms around her slim waist and pulled her to him. He smiled warmly and searched her face for clues. She breathed heavily and her eyes softened as they held contact with his, now her tense body was relaxing. Andrew kissed her passionately and she pressed herself hard against him. She is now under my spell, he thought.
He kissed and nibbled her neck and ear lobes, and she squirmed at the sensation and thrill. He started to undo the top buttons of her boiler suit, and she let him. She could not deny her overwhelming desire and she felt the peculiar warm fluttery feeling in her belly.
It suddenly struck her that there was still the faint fragrance of aftershave on him. He had supposedly been working hard all day in the factory, but he had none of the smells of oil or machinery that cling to a person. It confirmed what she had already suspected; Andrew was an MI5 agent checking her out.
Manipulation.
She was not under Andrew’s spell at all, but was nonetheless enjoying every moment of the encounter. He tried gradually moving her in the direction of the bed, but she backed towards the door and once there, he forced himself hard against her.
Anna started helping him to remove his clothes, between bouts of passionate kissing, nibbling and fondling one another. At the same time, she turned the key to unlock the door, tensing with anxiety when she discovered that it turned completely. The bastard did lock it after all, she thought. Now she knew that he had planned to use her, and then turn her in as a spy.
She continued to ease him out of his clo
thes, draping them in a pile on the chair.
Andrew grabbed the front of her boiler suit and tugged hard to open it, tearing off two buttons in the process. She pushed him away forcefully and for the first time, saw him totally naked.
He saw at once she was admiring his goods, she was like a starving dog slavering over a chunk of prime steak.
She backed away but he quickly grabbed her, pushing her down on the bed. He was focussed on her firm white breasts, partially exposed through the ripped open front of the boiler suit. He anticipated the imminent pleasure of slowly and forcibly stripping off her clothing, piece by piece.
An unexpected twist.
If she had been a spy, her training would have blunted any stupid female modesty, it always does. She would be thinking about how she could take advantage of this situation.
If she suspected him of being a spy, she would probably let him seduce her, thinking he would relax and become vulnerable to her attack, then escape.
If she did not suspect him, she would have taken the pleasure now on offer.
If she were innocent, she would just need a bit more encouragement. Soon she would panic, questioning whether she should do this shocking thing.
He had seen it all before, the brain becomes so overloaded with hormones, desire and conflict that it no longer functions sensibly. The primal urge to mate trumps any vestige of caution, it just needs a final push in some cases. So many girls fall for the line, “it will be ok,” or “trust me, I won’t hurt you” or the best one, “I love you”.
Anna had both hands clamped firmly over her mouth, her eyes were wild, darting frantically in an attempt to find escape. Stifled screams emanated from her. She removed her hands and pleaded.
“Don’t! Please Andrew, please don’t do this to me. I am not ready. My future husband has just died. He haunts my dreams. I cannot do what you want.”