Dangerous Allies

by Renee Ryan

  She took a deep breath and finished the rest of the verse. “And if one falls the other will pick him—or her—up.”

  “Precisely.” He pulled her close again. He wanted to stay right where he was, holding her tightly to him. Something powerful had just happened between them, a fragile bond that needed nurturing. Unfortunately, they didn’t have the liberty to explore their newfound connection. Not tonight.

  “I have to meet Himmler in little more than an hour.”

  “Will he…” She looked up at him. “Are you in danger because you failed tonight?”

  He wouldn’t lie to her, not now. “I don’t know. I have enough information to share that should satisfy him. But no matter what, the SS will not find out about you or your secret. Not from me.”

  “I know.” She lifted her chin. “I trust you completely.”

  He knew how hard that came for her. In the face of her courage he fell a little in love with her. Maybe more than a little. “Will you do something with me, before I go?”

  “Anything.”

  “I want us to pray, together.”

  “I… Yes.” She gave him a wobbly smile. “I…I think I would like that, too.”

  He took her hands in his and then knelt on the tile floor at her feet.

  After a moment of hesitation, she joined him on the floor.

  His arm might still be throbbing. His head might still feel light. Yet with Katarina’s hands in his, both of them kneeling before God in total surrender, Jack felt stronger than he had in years.

  He closed his eyes.

  “Lord, Heavenly Father, we know You are not the author of destruction, but of peace. I pray You guide us in our quest to stop tyranny, tonight and every night to come. Whether we’re together or apart.” He paused a moment, then recalled a long-forgotten verse from Zechariah. “We will not succeed in our own strength, but by Your spirit alone. In Jesus’s name, Amen.”

  “Amen.” Katarina’s hands tightened around his.

  And with that simple gesture from her, the night turned a whole lot brighter.

  Chapter Twenty

  21 November 1939, Abwehr headquarters annex,

  North Hamburg, 2300 hours

  Although it was seconds before 2300 hours, Jack didn’t rush his steps. He strode purposely up the front walkway of the rambling three-story mansion. It was an imposing structure, nestled on a knuckle of land perched along craggy cliffs.

  The house had been confiscated—most likely from a Jewish family—and turned into the heart of Germany’s wireless receiving operation. But this was an Abwehr facility, used solely by the military intelligence agency. There was no direct connection to the SS here.

  Why had Himmler moved their meeting to this house, of all places, instead of keeping it at the Gestapo head quarters as originally planned?

  With the question weighing heavily on his mind, Jack entered the building at precisely 2300 hours. An SS corporal rose from a chair situated in the shadows of the main hall and saluted. “Heil Hitler.”

  “Heil Hitler.”

  “The Reichsführer is waiting for you, Herr Sturmbannführer. Please follow me.” With a click of his heels, the corporal turned sharply around and led the way down a long corridor.

  Jack followed the man along the darkened hallway, through another corridor and then another. As he memorized the route with one part of his brain, he wondered again why Himmler had brought him here of all places.

  Was it a test? An intimidation tactic? A reminder that he was being watched closely?

  I will never leave you, nor forsake you.

  Jack tucked God’s promise into his heart, gathering courage from it as he did. Worry was useless. Himmler would reveal his hand when it suited him. And not before.

  In the meantime, Jack would do everything in his power to protect Katarina. No harm would come to her because of him. The most effective tool in his arsenal was the coldhearted shell of Friedrich Reiter.

  After yet another turn down another twisting corridor, the corporal ushered Jack into a small room furnished with only a dilapidated desk and two wooden chairs. The air smelled sour, heavy, like a moldy bunker.

  Another tactic, designed to throw a man off his guard. Friedrich Reiter was not so easily manipulated.

  “Herr Himmler will be with you shortly,” the corporal said, then retreated.

  Once he was alone, Jack remained standing, shoulders back, head high. He lifted his left arm slightly but did not wince at the resulting pain the small gesture caused. Katarina had cleaned the wound and dressed it properly. But he needed rest in order for his body to complete the healing process.

  He would take the time after the war.

  Turning at the sound of the door creaking on its hinges, he presented a stiff-armed salute as Himmler entered the room. “Herr Reichsführer,” he said. “Heil Hitler.”

  “Heil Hitler.”

  Jack remained at attention, and waited.

  Himmler’s restless gaze took in the room, then shifted to Jack’s face. “Have a seat, Herr Reiter.”

  As Jack settled into the less appealing of the two chairs, he noted that Himmler was wearing the black uniform of the Gestapo, the Death’s Head prominently displayed above the bill of his cap. The uniform sent a bloody warning. And Jack knew it was no empty threat. Himmler was capable of terrible evil.

  I will never leave you, nor forsake you. He relaxed in the reminder of God’s truth, and then set aside Jack Anderson for the remainder of the meeting.

  “You surprise me, Herr Reiter.” Himmler’s eyes turned colder, and his voice iced over. “I expected you much later.”

  “This was our agreed time.”

  “So it was.” He made a grand show of taking off his hat and settling into the other chair. “I understand you took your actress home early this evening, before you had to travel to Kiel.”

  The statement was meant to let Jack know that Himmler had been monitoring him, personally, along with the Gestapo and various other Nazi agencies.

  Friedrich Reiter was a popular man.

  “I wanted no distractions from my duties to the Fatherland. I will join her once I leave here. We prefer our privacy, you understand.” He punctuated his statement with Reiter’s sly smile. It was important Himmler got all the wrong ideas, with one exception. The head of the SS needed to know that Jack was fully aware of the listening devices planted in his hotel room.

  “So you are continuing your relationship with the woman.”

  Jack lifted a careless shoulder. “She has her uses. Aside from the obvious, Admiral Doenitz will be attending her mother’s ball tomorrow evening. It’s long past time I met the admiral in person.”

  “You always go beyond the call of duty, Herr Reiter,” Himmler said with satisfaction in his tone. “Now, for our other matter. You have news for me?”

  Pleased Himmler had changed the direction of the conversation on his own, Jack nodded. Although a certain amount of sharing information was expected, he needed to handle the question of the magnetic mines carefully.

  With the cold directness that was Reiter’s trademark, Jack leaned forward and lowered his voice. “It is delicate information, Herr Reichsführer.”

  Himmler waved his hand. “It is safe to speak freely here. You may proceed without concern.”

  “As you wish.”

  Jack sat back, seemingly relaxed, but he chose to stick to the cautious approach as was in character with his alter ego. He’d failed to investigate U-116 properly, but the head of the SS didn’t need to know that. The altercation with the guard was of little importance, as well. Heinrich Himmler cared only about the results of a mission as they pertained to him. He cared nothing of Reiter’s methods in retrieving the information.

  “The weapon we discussed earlier is a magnetic mine designed especially for submarine use.” Jack delivered the information without a single qualm, knowing he’d revealed enough to pit Himmler against Doenitz even more than before. “Its explosive charge carries twice the
firepower of traditional torpedoes.”

  Himmler’s eyes gleamed with interest. “Did you say magnetic mine?”

  “Yes. The U-boats lay a succession of these mines on the bottom of the shallow seabed, mainly near ports and military bases along the British coast. The bombs target ships as they pass by.”

  Digesting the information, Himmler nodded. “Go on.”

  “The mines are not discriminating,” Jack continued. “Military or merchant, British or American, the target is the closest ship in range.”

  Himmler’s lips thinned. “Then what keeps the mines from blowing up the U-boat once they are released?”

  Jack didn’t know, hence the problem with designing his countermeasures for the British. But he had a theory, one he could use to keep Himmler satisfied without jeopardizing Britain’s attempts to stop the destruction. “There is a delayed-action trigger, a time fuse of sorts, which does not activate until the U-boat has cleared the area.”

  Jack stopped his explanation there, counting on Himmler’s mind-set as a former chicken farmer to neither understand the complicated science of the bombs, nor wish to try. How the trigger worked was still the unknown factor. And after tonight’s failure, Jack was no closer to finding out. He still might have to return to Wilhelmshaven, and Admiral Doenitz’s private quarters.

  He would do so without Katarina.

  Clearly unaware of Jack’s thoughts, Himmler drummed his fingers on his thigh. “From what you’ve told me, it is obvious Doenitz wishes to use the mines to further increase public sentiment for his U-boats. A noble end, to be sure, but the secrecy must end.”

  Jack bit back a sigh of relief. Himmler was satisfied, even though Jack had given him very little information. In fact, Admiral Doenitz should have shared all of this with the SS long before now.

  Internal rivalry within the German state wasn’t Jack’s concern. Himmler would deal with the admiral’s secret-keeping himself. Let the dogs battle one another for a while, that was Jack’s philosophy.

  Himmler shifted, his blue eyes almost colorless now, nothing more than a slit of drab gray against the black pupils. “You have given me plenty to work with. The Führer will be pleased.”

  Jack nodded, then answered with his well-rehearsed line. “It is my honor to be of service to my Führer, and the Fatherland.”

  “Very good. Now.” Rising, Himmler crossed to a small window, and stared out into the black night for several long seconds.

  “I have another opportunity for you,” he said, spinning back to face Jack. “It would enable you to return to the Fatherland, perhaps permanently. And it would take advantage of the skills you’ve acquired in the last two years.”

  Jack sat perfectly still, waiting, swallowing back a mixture of trepidation and excitement. This was it, then. All roads had led to this moment. He had pushed to get himself here, to the one assignment that would take him deep inside the SS.

  “I only wish to serve,” he said. But not the Fatherland.

  In that moment, Jack put his hope in God and surrendered completely to the Lord’s will for his life. He would no longer seek revenge for his own purpose. He would have confidence in the Lord’s ability to use him as an instrument to defeat the Nazis’ evil.

  “What I have in mind would utilize your unique skills,” Himmler said again. “That is, if you are interested.”

  Jack leaned forward. By nature, he was a patient man, but he could feel his heart pounding with anticipation. Or was it fear? He wanted to hear what Himmler had in mind, wanted to see if all the sacrifices of the last two years were about to pay off.

  Even if the outcome meant Jack would have to lay down his own life, the price would be worth it if he could save innocent blood. This was no longer about Jack. It was about courageous people like Katarina Kerensky. It was about a higher plan and service to God.

  “I’m interested,” he said.

  “As you know, I do not trust Admiral Canaris any more than I trust Admiral Doenitz.”

  Keeping his expression blank, Jack nodded. The lack of trust between Himmler and the head of the Abwehr was no secret. The fact that they were having this conversation in an Abwehr facility revealed Himmler’s serpentine mind and deadly arrogance. The choice of meeting places made perfect sense now. The mouse was actually plotting against the cat inside the cat’s own den.

  “What is it you want me to do?” Jack asked, certain he’d come to the most important moment of his thirty-two years.

  Every small, seemingly inconsequential life decision had prepared him to take on this task. He’d memorized countless Scriptures as a boy, which would now become his primary source of God’s Word while ensconced in the heart of the Nazi regime. He’d trained as an engineer and joined the Navy at precisely the right time to warrant the German’s interest in him.

  Perhaps even losing his way for a time had brought him to a deeper conviction to serve the Lord.

  “We will put you in a position within the Abwehr itself. You will report back to me any suspicious dealings between Canaris and his closest agents.” The smile he sent Jack was as hard and cold as an artic blast.

  “Admiral Canaris will allow this?”

  Himmler released a vicious chuckle. “He has no choice.” That arrogant statement proved the unconscionable power Himmler had acquired within the Third Reich. Even men of equal standing now had to fear the head of the SS.

  Proceed carefully, Jack. You are dealing with a madman.

  “What of my work inside England?” he asked. It was a reasonable question. An expected one. “I’ve built a solid cover over the last two years.”

  “At all costs, you will not jeopardize your situation with the Americans, or MI6. I may need you to return to one or both countries in the future.”

  A ball of dread rolled ice-hot in his belly. Could Jack do this? No, he couldn’t. Not on his own. But he could with God’s strength. I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.

  “I understand, Herr Reichsführer. I will not let you down.”

  “Tie up any loose ends as quickly as possible. I want you in Berlin within the month.”

  Within the month. Jack had thirty days to get Katarina and her mother out of Germany.

  And then he would be completely entrenched inside the identity of Friedrich Reiter. For a moment, all his guilt and rage rose to the surface.

  Jack shoved the emotions back down with a hard swallow. He was a changed man, thanks to meeting Katarina. Her courage had inspired him to return to the God-fearing man he’d been before Reiter had attacked him.

  This world was filled with wickedness, but Jack would no longer allow his anger over what the Nazis had done to him to block his confidence in God’s ability to defeat evil. He would call on God alone for his strength now.

  After two long years of preparation, he would have his chance to become an instrument for good. In thirty days he would infiltrate the internal security service of the SS—the Sicherheitsdienst, or SD.

  This was it. The moment he’d planned for since Friedrich Reiter had come to take his life. Jack was ready.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  22 November 1939, Sengwarden, Wilhelmshaven

  Kriegsmarine headquarters, 0700 hours

  Admiral Doenitz spread the set of blueprints across the top of his desk, for the moment ignoring the U-boat captain standing at attention beside him. He took his time studying the drawings. The revolutionary mines were the most powerful naval weapons ever designed. But the bombs would only be effective if they remained secret.

  Satisfied he was making the right decision, he turned his attention to the man on his left.

  Hermann Schmidt stood unmoving, chest out, shoulders back, his gaze focused on the far wall. Since serving with Schmidt in the last war, Doenitz had trusted his fellow officer completely. Even at fifty, the man’s cold blue eyes, chiseled features and close-cropped blond hair defined Aryan perfection. But it was his unwavering loyalty to the Fatherland that made him an asset to the K
riegsmarine.

  “These are no longer safe in my office.” Doenitz stabbed at the blueprints with his index finger. “Although we don’t know exactly what the intruder was after, I am not willing to take any chances.”

  Schmidt lowered his gaze and considered the drawings in silence. His expression remained neutral throughout his inspection. “Is this the only set of blueprints?”

  “No. The engineers who developed the bombs have the originals. For the sake of secrecy, however, only a handful of people have been allowed access to either set.”

  “Very wise.”

  “Yes.” With silent purpose, Doenitz rolled up the pages, inserted the blueprints into a metal tube and then handed the container to Schmidt. “It is now up to you to keep these safe.”

  Tucking the cylinder under his left arm, Schmidt nodded. “I will guard them with my life.”

  “I have no doubt.” Satisfied the first part of the meeting was going as planned, Doenitz strode to the map covering the entire south wall of his office. “Germany is at her finest hour, Kapitän zur See. It is time the rest of the world experiences the magnificence of our capabilities.”

  Schmidt smiled with what looked like quiet relish. “Agreed.”

  “As commander of U-116, you are now among the elite of the Kriegsmarine.” Dragging his finger along the route Schmidt would take through the English Channel, Doenitz continued, “You are solely responsible for the success of this secret mission.”

  “I am humbled by the magnitude of your trust, Herr Admiral.”

  A perfect answer.

  Hands clasped behind his back, Doenitz walked to the row of windows on the north wall overlooking the harbor. Freezing rain scratched a steady rhythm against the glass. The chilling cold slicked ice into twisting patterns, making visibility all but impossible at this early hour. “I cannot stress the importance of keeping the blueprints from falling into the wrong hands.”

  “I understand.”

  Returning to the map, Doenitz eyed the coastline bordering the English Channel. Cold fingers of purpose clutched around his heart. “We must wage total war on the enemy.”