Colin Forbes - The Leader And The Damned

'Unlimited funds will be placed at your disposal. Gruber, what measures do you propose we take?'

'Seal off the entire city of Munich. All exits must be closed.'

'That is not enough,' Jaeger interrupted. He unfolded a map of Bavaria on the table and stabbed at it with his finger. 'Where is Lindsay likely to head for? That is the key to the whole operation and I believe I know the answer.'

'Well?' Bormann demanded.

'Switzerland! We must flood the area between Munich and the Swiss frontier with troops. All trains to that area must carry special plain-clothes inspection teams. It requires concentration of our forces. Road-blocks must be set up on, every route leading to the Swiss border. All airfields must be discreetly guarded – discreetly since we are setting up a whole series of traps.'

'Why bother about airfields?' Gruber enquired.

Jaeger looked at him with a hint of contempt. 'Have you forgotten Lindsay is a Wing Commander? That he was originally flown to the Wolf's Lair from the Berghof in a Junkers 52? He may have spent his time observing how the plane is operated…'

'I see what you mean,' Gruber mumbled and subsided.

Sitting quietly, puffing his pipe, Hartmann had to admire the SS colonel's energy and organizing ability. A successful criminal lawyer in peacetime, Hartmann placed great value on evidence. He asked a question.

'You are banking everything on the logic that Lindsay has to be heading for Switzerland?'

'Well, is it not logical?' Jaeger turned on him aggressively. 'I have put myself – as I always did at the front – inside the mind of the enemy. You have a comment?'

'I prefer to listen to your meticulous planning,' Hartmann replied ambiguously.

'In any case,' Bormann broke in, 'you are a strictly one-man show, Hartmann. We rely on you to contact via Berlin the Abwehr agents inside Switzerland. Any information you obtain should be passed to Colonel Jaeger.'

'Tell me, Bormann, precisely what happened in Munich this morning? You used the word "massacre”.'

'Mayr botched the operation. As to what happened..'

Hartmann listened intently as Bormann recalled in detail his phone conversation. Colonel Jaeger was already on the line to Mayr. in Munich firing off a series of orders. Hartmann frowned as Bormann came to the end of his story, an expression which irked the Reichsleiter.

'What is the matter now, Hartmann?'

'I find it disturbing. This rescue of the Englishman was planned brilliantly – like a military operation. The road-sweeper who hurled grenades and smoke bombs at our troops – a masterly touch.'

'You call it that!' snapped Bormann. ' A number of our men were killed.'

'Furthermore,' Hartmann continued, 'we have no descriptions of this three-man group who snatched Lindsay from under the noses of our elaborate trap. The leader sounds to be the man who wore the Astrakhan hat and coat. No description. Then there was the road-sweeper and the uniformed chauffeur who drove the Mercedes – again, no descriptions. How the hell did they get hold of a Mercedes?'

'Obviously they stole it!' interjected Gruber who was feeling he was being ignored.

'Possibly, Gruber,' Hartmann agreed amiably. 'Now, the Gestapo spends vast sums and has I don't know how many men on its staff. So tell me, what information have you about an underground group operating in the Munich area?'

Gruber, now he was the centre of attention, looked uncomfortable. Bormann stared at him. Jaeger had just finished his phone call to Mayr and also stood watching.

'There are so many rumours we have to check. It is wartime…' he rambled.

'Gruber!' Bormann's voice dripped sarcasm. 'I could have told you myself it is wartime. We all labour under that same handicap but we still do our duty.'

'A specific group, I mean, Gruber,' Hartmann persisted gently. 'They could be saboteurs – in which case you may have discovered explosives. They could be spies – in which case your signals section may have detected unauthorized radio transmissions. They could be subversives – in which case you may have found anti-Nazi propaganda. Well?'

Even Bormann felt a grudging admiration for the way the Abwehr officer was spearing Gruber to the wall. Gruber sucked in a deep breath, his palms moist with sweat as he replied.

'We know of no such group,' he snapped. 'Obviously these assassins came into the city from a long distance, rescued the Englishman and departed..'

' Obviously! ' roared Jaeger. 'How could they be sure when Lindsay would escape? He has been inside Germany for some time – and most of that time he was at the Wolf's Lair! Clearly these men have been waiting inside Munich for him to make his break – and the Gestapo hadn't an idea they existed! Criminal incompetence!'

'I shall report that slander to Reichsfuhrer Himmler, blazed Gruber. 'Your remark verges on treason.

'So!' Jaeger made a contemptuous gesture. 'While you enjoy a cosy chat with Himmler I will devote my energies to tracking down not only the Englishman – but also we will scoop up in our net this trio of subversives and spies who have been operating under your nose!'

Only Hartmann observed the smug satisfaction on Bormann's face. Divide and neutralize the power of all potential rivals. He sat motionless as Gruber and Jaeger glared at each other and Bormann intervened, his tone of voice now reasonable and soothing.

'I do agree that Colonel Jaeger's plan for sealing off the Swiss border sounds reasonable. On the other hand, I am sure with all the resources at its disposal the Gestapo has a major contribution to make. This meeting is adjourned.'

The three men walked out of the room, leaving Hartmann alone. Standing up, he crouched over the large-scale map Jaeger had spread on the table. A solitary man, Hartmann had developed the habit of murmuring to himself to clear his mind.

'The last thing anyone would expect would be for Lindsay and his rescuers to move from Munich to Salzburg… After all, Lindsay has just left Salzburg… It depends on how good their intelligence is..'

He used his pipe stem to trace the route from Munich to Salzburg and let it continue on. The next destination was Vienna.

'Now, Wing Commander Lindsay, you are safe – you fit the description we have been given,' Paco told him. They had also exchanged the quaint password Browne had provided in London.

'And if I hadn't?' Lindsay enquired.

'I would have 'strangled you. It is quieter and saves bullets.'

The man who had acted as chauffeur gave this morale-raising reply. Paco, who seemed to command the group, turned on him.

'You will not talk like that again to our guest. He is a very important man. The nephew of a British duke.

Half an hour had passed since Lindsay was bundled into the Mercedes and taken on the mad drive through Munich which ended inside a garage. A concealed door inside a cupboard at the back of the garage led to a staircase which they had descended to a basement – a large room with two double-tiered bunks against separate walls.

Once the concealed door had been closed – it was made of sheet steel faced with heavy wood so no amount of tapping inside the garage would have produced a hollow sound – Paco introduced her companions.

'This,' she said, indicating the hard-faced `chauffeur', 'is Bora. He speaks good English. Shake hands, Bora…'

He was as tall as Lindsay, about thirty years old, his eyes were hostile and the Englishman instantly disliked him. Fortunately he had the foresight to stiffen his hand because Bora had a grip like a wrestler's and exerted full pressure.

`Do behave, Bora,' Paco said softly. 'I saw that. 'Bora is the name of a strong dry wind which blows up the Adriatic,' Lindsay observed.

'Now you know why we gave him that code-name.' She turned to the second man – maybe forty years old with a weather-beaten face and a humorous glint in his shrewd eyes. 'This is Milic. He also speaks English, but do not expect perfection.'