He looked up at his uncle. “Where is my wife?”
“Under the Reichstag,” his uncle said. “I believe Holliston intends to ship her east.”
Horst shuddered. Beside him, Kurt swore.
“No,” he said, simply. “That will not happen.”
“It will, unless you can stop him,” Forster said. “How do you plan to proceed?”
Horst sighed. “What sort of forces do you have under your direct command?”
“Very few,” Forster admitted. “Just two battalions of Volkssturm. The remainder were folded into the Waffen-SS and sent to the front.”
“I see,” Horst said. Holliston hadn't made a bad call. The Volkssturm were often more attached to their communities - and to their Gauleiters - than they were to the Reich. And in Germany East, the Volkssturm were often quite well armed. “We’ll need reinforcements, then.”
“It looks that way,” his uncle said. “It might be possible to subvert a few of his officers.”
Horst frowned. The more people involved, the greater the chance of a leak - and certain failure. He’d been forced to study two operations during his training that had both failed because the target had been warned, in advance, that the operation was underway. And if it happened here, in Germanica, the consequences were likely to be a great deal worse.
“I’d prefer to avoid it, if possible,” he said, biting his lip. “Uncle, this is going to take far too long.”
“You don’t have very long,” Forster said. “Holliston is already insane. What’s he going to do next?”
He sighed. “I’ll sweeten the pill,” he added. “I know the name of the spy on the Provisional Government.”
Horst straightened. “You are sure?”
“I believe so,” Forster said. “It was not easy to track him down, but I have a contact in the Reichstag records department. I don’t believe it was a coincidence, given how much power the SS was accumulating before your wife came along. And someone definitely warned Holliston that your people were planning an invasion.”
“Shit,” Kurt said. “Who is he?”
“Admiral Wilhelm Riess, head of the Abwehr,” Forster said, simply.
“Impossible,” Kurt said.
Horst frowned. He barely knew Riess - he certainly hadn't met the man socially - but the Abwehr had been losing ground to the SS for years. It was possible, quite possible, that he’d been working for Holliston a long time before the civil war. And, by openly declaring for the Provisional Government, he’d put himself in place to gather all sorts of intelligence for his true master. No wonder the offensive had failed so badly.
He took a breath. “Very well,” he said. “We’ll get in touch with Berlin. And they can decide how to proceed.”
“Good,” Forster said. “But, like I said, time is running out.”
“I know,” Horst said. “Give us everything you know. We’ll try to put together a provisional plan.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Berlin, Germany Prime
9 November 1985
“If this is true,” Voss said, quietly. “If this is true ...”
He sounded stunned. Volker didn't blame him. Everyone knew that the Abwehr and the SS were deadly enemies. They’d been competitors ever since the Third Reich had risen from the ashes to dominate the world. The thought of Admiral Riess choosing to side with the SS was bizarre. If Holliston won the war, Riess would be lucky if he was allowed to take his pension and retire quietly. The Abwehr itself would be folded into the SS.
“It makes no sense,” Volker said. “And yet ... someone betrayed us.”
“Maybe,” Voss said. “We don’t know we were betrayed.”
Volker shrugged. It was impossible to be sure, but the two nuclear blasts that had stopped the offensive dead in its tracks had almost certainly been ground-bursts. The weapons had been prepositioned and detonated on cue, not dropped from aircraft or fired from long-range guns. And that suggested that the Waffen-SS had known the direction of attack from the start, allowing them to position the tactical nuclear weapons for maximum effect.
And if it was Riess who had betrayed them ...
He contemplated it for a long moment. The Abwehr had every reason to distrust the SS, but their leader might have more reason to distrust the Provisional Government. Who knew what would happen to the Abwehr after the war was won? It certainly wouldn't enjoy the unrestricted powers it had gained under the Reich Council. And besides, Riess might be loyal to the Third Reich. He might have joined the Provisional Government with the intention of betraying them to Holliston.
Or it might be a trick of some kind, Volker thought.
He rubbed his forehead, wishing for the simplicity of a battlefield. If Riess was a traitor, why was he a traitor and how could it be exploited? And if he wasn't a traitor, why had he been fingered as a traitor? What did the enemy hope to achieve? It wasn't as if he’d trusted Riess even before the man had become the prime suspect. No spymaster could be trusted completely, certainly not in the Reich. The position simply offered too many opportunities for advancement at the expense of other, more deserving candidates.
“I don’t see what they have to gain,” he mused. “This offer ... this is what we want, isn't it?”
“Some of us would prefer to reunite the Reich,” Voss reminded him.
Volker shook his head. There was no way the Reich could be reunited, not now. The nukes had seen to that. Even if Germany Prime managed to hold together long enough to launch a second invasion, there was too great a chance of nuclear weapons being used again. And even if they weren't, the hatred between the two sides was too great. He doubted east and west would ever cooperate happily again.
Which means that this offer is the best we’re going to get, he thought, morbidly. Horst had done a good job - if everything could be taken at face value. Germany East would get its independence - taking with it everyone who couldn't fit into the new world order. But it will only work if Holliston is removed.
He had no trouble in believing that a Gauleiter - perhaps more than one - would side against Karl Holliston. The prospect of a nuclear war had probably concentrated more than a few minds in Germany East, particularly after the Provisional Government had retaliated. And even if they didn't fear nuclear war, they’d certainly fear Holliston gaining undisputed control over the Reich. Their powers would be cut back sharply as Holliston tightened his grip over the Reich. They’d be worried even if Holliston remained confined to Germany East.
And we might be carving a rod for our own backs, he thought.
It was a frustrating problem. Holliston was going insane, if he wasn't already mad. But the Gauleiters were presumably sane. They might be able to turn Germany East into a long-term threat. And yet, right now, Holliston was the real problem. He had to be stopped, whatever the cost. His madness might eventually lead to all-out nuclear war.
“This plan,” he mused. “Is it workable?”
“Perhaps,” Voss said. “Long-range airmobile operations were practiced, time and time again, during the wars in Arabia and South Africa. We have the aircraft on hand to insert troops several hundred kilometres from their airbases. But I’d be reluctant to risk it without knowing more about the situation on the ground. It would have a very low probability of success.”
Volker scowled. Karl Holliston must have faced the same dilemma, shortly after the Reich Council had fallen ... but Holliston was demonstrably more ruthless than any of his opponents. Sending an airborne commando unit to Berlin had been a low-risk, high-reward strategy as far as he’d been concerned. If he won, he got to retake Berlin without a fight; if he lost, it didn't significantly weaken his position. But it was different for the Provisional Government. Losing hundreds of men on a very high-risk mission might bring his government toppling down.
“Start planning for it, anyway,” he ordered. “Compartmentalise everything. Make damn sure nothing gets out.”
“I’ll draw up a training program,” Voss said. “We can call t
he whole operation a training program.”
“And we’ll make it clear that we won’t be taking the offensive until spring,” Volker added, shortly. He’d planned to discuss the operation in council, but there was no way to prevent Riess from taking his seat without tipping him off. “As far as anyone apart from the two of us know, there will be no further military operations until then.”
“My briefing will make that clear,” Volker assured him. He smiled. “It wasn't as if we were planning anything, anyway.”
Volker nodded, shortly. The combination of snowstorms and radioactive contamination had definitely halted all offensive operations. His forces were currently digging in, ready to repel attack ... if, of course, the Waffen-SS was in any state to take the offensive. The enemy seemed to be patrolling the lines aggressively, but intelligence suggested that the Waffen-SS had taken a beating too. Voss had suggested, quite seriously, throwing in a second attack just to see if the enemy lines crumbled. Volker had been tempted, but there was too great a danger of nuclear attack.
If Horst is right, he thought, we stand to win everything. But if this is a trap ...
He shook his head. They’d just have to roll the dice one last time ...
... And hope to hell they came out ahead.
***
“And so we are currently establishing three successive defensive lines west of the combat zone,” Voss droned. “Four panzer divisions, held in reserve, will move at once to intercept any enemy force that threatens to break through the defence lines. Forward scouts and air patrols should give us more than enough warning of any major offensive to put the men on alert ...”
Admiral Wilhelm Riess kept his face impassive as Voss droned on and on. It was a shame Field Marshal Justus Stoffregen hadn't stayed in his post as Head of the OKW - he’d understood the importance of putting the Reich ahead of their petty rivalries - but Stoffregen had chosen to resign, rather than serve the Provisional Government. Wilhelm understood the man’s feelings, which made his sense of betrayal all the more acute. A man who could be trusted in his post would have been very useful.
It was a bitter thought. The Abwehr and the SS were natural enemies, their rivalry exploited by the Reich Council to keep the intelligence services from forming an alliance that would catapult their leaders into power. Normally, Wilhelm would not have hesitated to do the SS a bad turn, particularly if it would do nothing more than embarrass his hated rival. And he knew the Reichsführer-SS would not have hesitated to do the same to him. But now, with the New Order under threat, he had no choice but to work with the SS. Holliston, damn him, was the only hope of preserving anything of Adolf Hitler’s legacy.
Wilhelm had no illusions about the Reich. It was a brutal state, founded on brutality and maintained by brutality. Gudrun and her ilk had absolutely no comprehension of just how brutally the Reich controlled its subjects or of how many lives had been lost in building the Reich and establishing its control over Europe. The whole thought was truly distasteful; indeed, he didn't understand how Holliston and his ilk could come to enjoy all the horrific things they did to keep the Reich in power. There was no reason to enjoy it ...
But the Reich was necessary. The world was divided into the strong and the weak, but the strong could easily become the weak if they lost sight of the true nature of the world. He might recoil in horror at what the Reich did, yet he saw no alternative. Easing off on the French tomorrow might see a French army, champing at the bit for bloody revenge, crossing the Rhine in ten years. The world could be either crushed under the Reich’s heel or at the Reich’s throat. There was no middle ground.
And that means talking to the enemy, he thought. And that means accepting the risk of being destroyed myself.
Kruger leaned forward. “Do you believe the enemy intends to take the offensive?”
“The weather is growing rapidly worse,” Voss said. “They would be foolish to try before the spring. I do not expect to see anything more than a few raiding parties.”
Wilhelm nodded in agreement. He wasn't an infantryman or a panzer driver, but he understood the dangers of launching an offensive during winter. They’d hashed them out, time and again, while planning the thrust against Warsaw. And that thrust had failed spectacularly. It was unlikely, he assured himself, that Karl Holliston would repeat the same mistake.
“We will also continue evacuating the towns and settlements that may come under long-range fire,” Volker Schulze said, changing the subject. “The population wants to flee. We cannot stop them, but we can try to manage the flow.”
Wilhelm shuddered, cursing Gudrun and her Valkyries under his breath. Evacuating millions of people would put an immense strain on the nation’s resources at the worst possible time, but there was no choice. The thought of those people freezing to death as the weather got colder - or being forced to struggle to find food and shelter - was appalling. And yet, Volker Schulze was right. There was no way the population would stay still with the threat of nuclear war looming over their heads.
And we don’t have the manpower to keep them in place, he thought, sourly. It isn't going to be easy to stop them.
“We will be very short on food, even with the ... emergency shipments,” Kruger said. “But we will do our best to keep them alive.”
Wilhelm kept his face impassive with an effort. The fact that those shipments came from Britain and America was an open secret. Indeed, he doubted that Holliston had needed him to tell him that the Americans were aiding the rebels. And why not? The Reich would happily have aided any American faction intent on tearing the United States apart, knowing that crushing the victor would be a great deal easier. Hell, the Americans might be satisfied merely to pry France, Italy, Spain and Turkey out of the Reich’s orbit. It would give them a chance to establish a powerful armoured force in Europe for the first time since 1919.
And cut us off from all sorts of resources, he thought, darkly. They have to be stopped.
The meeting seemed to take forever. It was a relief when Volker Schulze finally called it to a halt, noting that they all had to go home to their wives. Wilhelm rose and hurried out of the room, heading to the tunnels that would take him back to the Abwehr’s headquarters, right next to the OKW. Holliston would be delighted to know, he was sure, that there would be no further offences until spring. It would give him time to prepare his own counterstroke.
He nodded to his secretary as he reached his office, then poured himself a stiff drink. The Provisional Government’s counter-intelligence services were woefully lacking, but betraying them was still a risk. Someone might figure out that there was a mole at the very highest levels and it wouldn't take them long to start looking at men known for their loyalty to the Third Reich. But the risk had to be borne. Germany demanded it ...
And if we win, we may still lose, he thought, sourly. Holliston will ensure that we are no longer an independent service.
But that, too, had to be borne.
***
“You believe this to be true?”
“I’m not privy to all of their high-level discussions,” Andrew Barton said, as he sipped his coffee gratefully. He’d only just returned from the front and his bones still felt cold as ice. “But I don’t believe they are planning an offensive in the next few days.”
“That’s ... awkward,” Ambassador Turtledove said.
“For us, perhaps,” Andrew agreed. “But the logistics of waging war as winter falls over the Reich are ... are very poor.”
He scowled at the thought. The Germans had been happy to detail the horrors of waging war in winter, ranging from vehicles refusing to start to guns refusing to fire because the oil had frozen solid. They did have plenty of experience in waging war in the winter, he knew, but most of it involved small-unit operations. Moving an entire army through the winter snows was appallingly risky, even if the enemy didn't put up a fight.
And they would, he thought. Everything we’re hearing from Germany East makes it clear that they’re preparing to fight.
“So the war will literally freeze until spring,” Ambassador Turtledove said.
“It looks that way,” Andrew said. “I would expect a number of skirmishes up and down the defence lines, Mr. Ambassador, but nothing more serious. Both sides are going to need to replenish their losses after the recent battles.”
“If they can afford to keep fighting,” Ambassador Turtledove said. “The Provisional Government has already requested a loan.”
“They could do with it,” Andrew said. “What did Washington say?”
“They’re still arguing,” Ambassador Turtledove told him. “The President seems to be in favour of propping up the Provisional Government, but factions in Congress want to insist on some ironclad guarantees before releasing the purse strings. And none of them seem to agree on what they want from the Reich.”
Andrew sighed. “They can't agree on anything?”
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