When Hell Struck Twelve

by James R Benn

  “Listen, Diana, I’m worried about Kaz, but I have get moving. Do you know anything about our mission?”

  She didn’t, so I gave her a quick run-down of our pursuit of Marcel Jarnac, code-name Atlantik. I whispered, even though the pace of Paul’s playing had picked up, and I could tell he was paying more attention to each note than to either of us.

  “So, I grabbed the kid as leverage,” I said, gesturing to our orchestra. “His brother has a soft spot for him, and I aim to use it.”

  “But hasn’t Atlantik had time to get to the Abwehr?” Diana asked. “It’s probably too late for leverage.”

  “Well, there’s a slight chance he could have been delayed due to fighting and roundups, but I’m not counting on it. My idea is to trade Paul for a renunciation,” I said.

  “He could say he found out his information was faulty or from a plant,” Diana said, grasping the idea right away.

  “Yeah. Can you keep Paul here? Even if he wants to leave.”

  “I’m sure we can keep him occupied,” she said with a sly wink.

  “For twenty-four hours?”

  “He’s young,” Diana said. “And there are restraints on the higher floors, if needed. But tell me, how are you going to contact Atlantik and prove you have Paul?”

  “I was loosely held prisoner by the FFI,” I said. “They didn’t know what to make of me after Jarnac’s denunciation. I think they believed it was all a mistake. I asked their leader, a young woman named Nicole, to put the word out I wanted to speak to Jarnac in the morning to straighten things out. I’m betting he’ll show, since it’s a good opportunity for him to tie up a loose end.”

  “Where?”

  “At some barricades near the opera house on rue Volney. I need to get back there while it’s still dark,” I said, fighting the urge to yawn and failing miserably.

  “It’s very dangerous, Billy,” Diana said, edging closer. I guessed my earlier comment had been forgiven. “I think I may be able to help. I’m going to talk to someone in the next room. Give me a minute.”

  She rushed off, the soft silk of her dress trailing behind her. Paul played on, the music rising and falling, rising and falling.

  “Billy, wake up. Wake up!” Diana shook me by the arm, hard. I pried my eyes open, my eyelids heavy and my brain sluggish. I rubbed my face as it dawned on me the music had stopped.

  “Where’s Lambert?” I asked, sitting up from where I’d collapsed on the couch.

  Standing behind Diana, visible in the light of the single lamp, was a German officer, tall in his shiny boots, a Knight’s Cross at his collar. I wondered if I was dreaming, and wished I could wake up all over again to the languid strains of Lambert’s violin.

  But this wasn’t a dream. I noticed his hand resting on his holster. Good. He didn’t have a gun at Diana’s back. My little .32 wasn’t worth much, but two or three slugs to the chest would do the trick at this range if I could get to it in time.

  “No, Billy,” Diana said, moving between us. “He can help.”

  I stood, moving in front of Diana in case this Kraut decided to be unhelpful. Then I saw his face clearly. A face I knew well enough.

  “Colonel Erich Remke,” I said. “It’s been a while.”

  I’d run into Remke before. First in North Africa, when I was stuck in a Vichy French jail. Then in Sicily, when we both were trying to get on the good side of a mafia boss, a side that was damned hard to find. But the last time, in occupied Rome, had been different. Remke was part of the German resistance against Hitler, and he’d funneled information to us about the extermination camp at Auschwitz. Diana had been part of that SOE operation as well. He’d told us about assassination attempts in the works and asked that we get word to the Allies about their plans. So, we were on the same side, sort of. Except for all the shooting.

  “Captain Boyle,” he said, giving his heels a little Prussian click. “Miss Seaton has told me of your mission.”

  “What?” I stared at Diana, wondering what the hell had gotten into her. In my dealings with Remke, I’d found him to be honorable enough. Hell, anyone who wanted Adolf dead was a pal in my book, but he was still an enemy soldier. And a member of the Abwehr to boot, the very guys we were trying to pull a fast one on.

  “We have common ground,” Diana said. “Let’s sit and talk this through.”

  “Where’s Paul?” I asked, catching a glimpse of his violin case. I knew he couldn’t be far if he’d left it behind.

  “I had one of the girls take him to the kitchen. He’s in good hands. Now sit, and I’ll pour some drinks. It’s the main thing I do here,” she said, with a quick glance in my direction.

  “Miss Seaton is in great demand as a hostess,” Remke said, pulling up a chair and setting his service cap on the table. “The One-Two-Two is as famous for its salon as for these rooms. They serve champagne and caviar along with gossip and secrets.” Remke knew Diana and I were an item, and I had the sense he was trying to put my mind at ease. Maybe that was wishful thinking. Maybe he wasn’t the worst enemy in the world.

  “Which is why you were sent here,” I said to Diana.

  “Yes. The clientele is mainly German officers and their Vichy guests. The chatter after a few glasses of champagne is quite revealing,” she said. “Well worth the price of wearing this ridiculous getup.”

  Remke avoided her eyes, probably thinking the same thing I was about her dress, and kept the conversation on track.

  “I saw Miss Seaton here two weeks ago and recalled our previous dealings,” Remke said, nodding his thanks to Diana as she handed him a glass of cognac. “At the time, I was dealing with some difficulties with the Gestapo and in need of a place to hide. It was mutually beneficial for me not to reveal her presence here to my colleagues in return for her assistance.”

  “You were part of the July 20 bomb plot?” I asked. Last month’s failed attempt on Hitler’s life had been big news. Plenty of GIs had thought it might mean an end to the war. A lot of them were dead by now.

  “Some of us were to arrest the SS leaders in Paris once Hitler’s death was announced,” he said with a heavy sigh. “We did so, only to learn the announcement was premature. The SS was chagrined at being taken so easily without a fight. Therefore, the whole thing was quickly forgotten by all parties.”

  “But someone talked,” I said, taking my own glass and downing a gulp. The sharp aroma lingered in my nose as the liquid warmed my throat.

  “Someone always talks when the Gestapo starts in on them,” Remke said. “It could have been anyone, simply giving them names to make the pain go away. I received word that a team of Gestapo agents was being sent to Paris, as the local men were no longer trusted. Since then, I have been a guest of the One-Two-Two.”

  “I’m glad the Nazis didn’t string you up, Colonel, but what does that have to do with me?”

  “Atlantik is my man,” Remke said.

  I finished the rest of my drink. I looked at Diana, figuring she must have had a good reason to spill the beans to Remke.

  “It’s all right, Billy,” Diana said.

  “Has he contacted you?” I asked, still trying to figure out what Remke was after.

  “He arrived at the Hotel Lutetia last night,” Remke said. “He’s given his report to my aide, who is planning on meeting me at the Hotel Meurice in a few hours.”

  “The Hotel Meurice is the headquarters of General von Choltitz, the German commandant for Paris,” Diana explained.

  “You’re going there with the Gestapo looking for you?” I asked Remke.

  “The men who were looking for me left a few hours ago, according to my aide. They gave up and departed before they were pressed into service to do any actual fighting. There are no Gestapo at the general’s headquarters, and I will remain there for as long as necessary.”

  “What are you going to do with Atlantik’s rep
ort?” I asked. “It gives you quite an advantage.”

  “On the contrary. It poses a problem, one you may be able to solve,” Remke said.

  “I don’t get it. If Jarnac was a double agent of yours, isn’t this the kind of thing you’d get a medal for?” I asked.

  “It comes at the worst possible time,” Remke said. “Before I could secure the report, too many people at headquarters had heard of it. It is imperative that we discredit Jarnac, or force him to recant, as you have suggested.”

  “Wait, I’m confused,” I said, rubbing my eyes and trying to make sense of this. Maybe having that cognac wasn’t such a good idea.

  “Billy, here’s the part you don’t know,” Diana said, her hand on my shoulder. “General von Choltitz has orders to destroy Paris. Thoroughly.”

  “Jesus. We ran into an engineer unit on our way here, loaded down with explosives,” I said. “I wondered what they were up to.”

  “Demolition specialists have been arriving for days, and some of them have already wired buildings and monuments for destruction. However, von Choltitz is resistant to the idea of destroying Paris,” Remke said. “He’s playing for time, hoping the Allies enter the city as soon as possible. He’d prefer to surrender it intact.”

  “But not to the FFI,” Diana said. “General von Choltitz and many within the Abwehr want to stop the destruction of the city, but they insist on surrendering to uniformed troops. I’ve sent radio messages to SOE telling them this, but they haven’t answered.”

  “Not all of our interests coincide, but I am sure you will agree in the matter of Paris we are in accord,” Remke said. “I have no wish to see Paris and its people destroyed, nor for our troops to fight a losing battle in its ruins.”

  “But you can’t simply ignore Jarnac,” I said.

  “Unfortunately, no,” Remke said. “Too many people have already heard about his intelligence coup, and word may have reached Berlin. We cannot take a chance on orders coming direct from OKW to re-arrange our defenses, such as they are.”

  OKW was the Oberkommando der Wehrmacht, and they called the shots. Literally.

  “I didn’t see a lot of troops between Rambouillet and Paris,” I said, standing and walking to the window. I parted the curtains, looking out into the courtyard and the blacked-out windows across the way. This was a house of pleasure, and perhaps pain, but I doubted anybody else was debating the fate of one of the world’s great cities.

  “No,” Remke said. “The units retreating from Normandy are shattered. It will take time to regroup farther to the east. But we do have anti-aircraft defenses ringing the Paris area. So far, von Choltitz has not ordered them moved to directly oppose your attack from the west. But if the Acht-acht guns were repositioned along the route of the French armor, it would be enough to stop them for a day or two.”

  He was dead right. The German 88 was an effective anti-aircraft weapon and an even more deadly anti-tank gun. If massed along the approach of General Leclerc’s armored columns, the lead tanks would be blown off the road.

  “Two days, even one, could force the general’s hand,” Diana said, standing next to me and taking my hand. It was like an electric shock, the warmth of her skin against mine. I gripped her tightly to mask the shakes. “Explosives have already been set throughout the city. If von Choltitz gives in and follows his orders, or is replaced by someone else, Paris will become a field of rubble.”

  “We cannot allow a delay,” Remke said. “I will be expected to give a report on Jarnac’s claims this morning. It would be best if there were good reason to disbelieve it. Unfortunately, his information has been quite reliable in the past.”

  “Well, if he took the bait, he’ll be at the rue Volney barricade anytime now,” I said, glancing at my watch. Dawn wasn’t too far off. “I’ll take Paul’s violin. That’s the best proof I can offer Jarnac that I have him. The kid would never willingly let it be taken.”

  “He will be kept safely out of sight,” Diana said. “Call here when you have news of Jarnac. Remember to ask for Malou.” She rattled off an eight-digit number and had me repeat it. By the third time I got it right.

  “Do you have any coffee?” I asked. I needed something to blow away the cobwebs. Seeing Erich Remke standing over me when I woke up had gotten my blood moving, but that had worn off, and all I wanted to do now was lie down and deal with Jarnac tomorrow. But Paris might not be here tomorrow, so I stayed upright, maybe swaying a bit.

  “You can get anything at the One-Two-Two,” Diana said. “Some of Colonel Remke’s Abwehr colleagues have been running a black-market operation out of the back rooms.”

  “A profitable enterprise, but sadly we do not have time for coffee,” Remke said, brushing back his sleeve to check the time. “I have a car scheduled to pick me up at the front door in less than ten minutes. I can take you close to rue Volney and save you the trouble of evading our patrols.”

  “Sure,” I said, still a little wary of any Kraut offering me a lift. But the thought of sprinting through the darkened streets was too much, and I put aside my natural battlefield caution. “I could use a ride. I’m bushed.”

  “Bushed? Tired, you mean? You certainly look it. These will help,” Remke said, taking a small container from his pocket and handing it to me. “Pervitin. One or two of these will keep you wide awake.”

  “What is it?” I asked, shaking the metal tube and hearing the rattle of pills.

  “It is a methamphetamine compound,” he said. “It was first developed for pilots on long flights. Now it’s issued to every soldier at the front. I used it myself to stay alert and watch for the Gestapo. The medical people claim it’s harmless, but I would not take too many. Or use it for long.”

  “I only need a few hours,” I said, removing the cork and rolling a white pill into my palm. There were seven left, more than I needed. I popped the pill and tilted my head back, letting it roll down my gullet. “Thanks.”

  “I will wait downstairs,” Remke said. “Join me in five minutes, no longer. A single German vehicle waiting at the curb can become a target very quickly. Miss Seaton, you know how to contact me at the Hotel Meurice.” With that, he gave another click of the heels, a bow in Diana’s direction, and left.

  “You’re full of surprises, Malou,” I said, going for a laugh and falling onto the couch. “If you’ve got anyone else hiding in that room, don’t tell me, okay?”

  “Billy, I’m worried about you,” she said, sitting next to me and holding my hand in hers, cradling it as she brought it to her lips, kissing my fingers and leaving a trace of red. “You look worse than exhausted.”

  “I’ll be able to sleep in a few hours, I hope,” I said. “I’m pretty sure Jarnac’s weak spot is his brother. Other than that, he’s a callous bastard. I figure he won’t be able to resist getting back at me for taking the map.”

  “Be careful,” Diana said. “He sounds vicious. And smart, to have survived this long as a double agent. You must stay alert, but these pills are dangerous. I’ve seen men come here begging to buy more on the black market once they’ve gotten the habit. If you want another jolt, take these.” She opened a drawer on the side table and handed me a round tin. It was marked Scho-Ka-Kola and contained wedges of dark chocolate. “They contain caffeine. They’re standard issue for Luftwaffe aircrew.”

  “Thanks,” I said, pocketing the chocolate. “But I’m more worried about you than my chances with Jarnac. Does any German other than Remke know what you’re doing here?”

  “No, I don’t think so,” she said, standing and brushing her hair back behind her ear. “Oddly enough, I do trust the man. Billy, you must leave now. Remke meant it about the car not waiting.”

  “Okay,” I said, reluctant to leave, knowing she was right. Still, I hated the thought of leaving her alone. “What about the people who run this joint? Can you trust them?”

  “I trust them to act in th
eir own self-interest. They were eager to help, since there are bound to be reprisals once Paris is free again. They made a lot of money catering to the Nazis. Now they can claim they were servicing the Germans as a cover for SOE. They’d have little reason to betray us.”

  “Us? There are others here?”

  “The usual. A three-person team with a hidden radio. But you don’t need to know about them. Just convince Jarnac to recant his story, then get back to me. We will drink champagne, sleep, and wait for the liberation.”

  “I like the sound of sleep,” I said, picking up the violin case and letting her lead me to the door.

  Diana leaned in and kissed me, a long, soft caress of her ruby lips. She smelled of flowers, cognac, and fear, and at that moment I never wanted to leave her. Not in this place where betrayal and death were as likely as liberation.

  No spy is ever safe.

  “Go,” she said, her forehead pressed to mine, her hand at the back of my neck. “And come back.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  I descended the stairs slowly, munching on a piece of chocolate, the bittersweet taste mingling with the perfumed traces of Diana’s lipstick. The red imprint from where she kissed my tremoring hand was still faintly visible. Would it be there by the time I got back? If all went as planned, this thing might be finished in a few hours. I had to even the score with Jarnac for his murders, but that would have to wait until Leclerc’s columns rolled into town.

  “Shall we go, Captain Boyle?” Remke said, fitting his service cap on his head at a jaunty angle. The doorman let us out, glancing up and down the street before signaling us to go. A German soldier jumped out of the Citroën Traction Avant idling at the curb and opened the door. He snapped to attention as I followed Remke into the back seat and in seconds we roared off into the night. It was pitch-black, silent, and the streets glistened with rain.

  “Have you told anyone else about Diana?” I said, keeping an eye on the sidewalk for any hint of an ambush. “How safe is she?”