Daniel Silva - The Unlikely Spy

Which was why they began most mornings the same way, riding side by side on horseback through the Tiergarten. It gave each man a chance to check up on what the other was doing-to spar, to probe for weakness. Canaris liked their rides for one other reason. He knew that for at least one hour each morning the young general was not actively plotting his demise.

"There you go again, Herr Admiral," Schellenberg said. "Always looking at the dark side of things. I suppose that makes you a cynic, doesn't it."

"I'm not a cynic, Herr Brigadefuhrer. I'm a skeptic. There's an important difference."

Schellenberg laughed. "That's the difference between us in the Sicherheitsdienst and you old-school types in the Abwehr. We see nothing but endless possibility. You see nothing but danger. We are bold, not afraid to take risks. You prefer to have your head in the sand-no offense, Herr Admiral."

"None taken, my young friend. You are entitled to your opinion, however misinformed it might be."

Canaris's horse threw back its head and snorted. The breath froze into a cloud, then drifted away on the gentle morning wind. Canaris looked around him at the devastation of the Tiergarten. Most of the lime and chestnut trees were gone, burned by Allied incendiary bombs. Ahead of them, on the pathway, was a bomb crater the size of a Kubelwagen. Thousands more were scattered throughout the park. Canaris, tugging on the reins, led his horse around it. A pair of Schellenberg's security men trailed softly after them on foot. Another walked a few feet in front of them, head slowly wheeling from side to side. Canaris knew there were more he could not see, even with his well-trained eye.

"Something very interesting landed on my desk yesterday evening," Schellenberg said.

"Oh, really? What was her name?"

Schellenberg, laughing, spurred the horse into a light trot.

"I have a source in London. He did some work for the NKVD a long time ago, including recruiting an Oxford student who is now an officer inside MI-Five. He still talks to the man from time to time, and he hears things. He passes those things on to me. The MI-Five officer is a Russian agent, but I share in the harvest, so to speak."

"Remarkable," Canaris said dryly.

"Churchill and Roosevelt don't trust Stalin. They keep him in the dark. They have refused to tell him anything about the time and place of the invasion. They think Stalin might leak the secret to us so the Allies will be destroyed in France. With the British and Americans out of the fight, Stalin would try to finish us off alone and grab all of Europe for himself."

"I've heard that theory. I'm not sure I put much stock in it."

"In any case, my agent says MI-Five is in crisis. He says your man Vogel has mounted an operation that has scared the pants off them. The investigation is being led by a case officer named Vicary. Ever heard of him?"

"Alfred Vicary," Canaris said. "A former professor at University College in London."

"Very impressive," Schellenberg said genuinely.

"Part of being an effective intelligence officer is knowing your opponent, Herr Brigadefuhrer." Canaris hesitated, allowing time for Schellenberg to absorb the jab. "I'm glad Kurt is giving them a run for their money."

"The situation is so tense Vicary has met with Churchill personally to update him on the progress of his investigation."

"That's not so surprising, Herr Brigadefuhrer. Vicary and Churchill are old friends." Canaris cast a sideways glance at Schellenberg to see if his face registered any trace of surprise. Their conversations often turned into point-scoring contests, each man trying to surprise the other with tidbits of intelligence. "Vicary is a well-known historian. I've read his work. I'm surprised you haven't. He has a keen mind. He thinks like Churchill. He was warning the world about you and your friends long before anyone took notice."

"So what is Vogel up to? Perhaps the SD can be of some assistance."

Canaris permitted himself a rare but short burst of laughter.

"Please, Brigadefuhrer Schellenberg. If you're going to be so transparent, these morning rides will lose their appeal very quickly. Besides, if you want to know what Vogel is doing, just ask the chicken farmer. I know he's bugged our telephones and planted his spies inside Tirpitz Ufer."

"Interesting you should say that. I raised that very question with Reichsfuhrer Himmler over dinner last night. It seems Vogel is very careful. Very secretive. I hear he doesn't even keep his files in the Abwehr central registry."

"Vogel is a true paranoid and extremely cautious. He keeps everything in his office. And I wouldn't think about trying to get rough with him. He has an assistant named Werner Ulbricht who's seen the worst of this war. The man's always cleaning his Lugers. Even I don't go near Vogel's office."

Schellenberg pulled back on the reins until his horse came to a stop. The morning was still and quiet. In the distance came the growl of the morning's first traffic along the Wilhelmstrasse.

"Vogel is the kind of man we like in the SD-intelligent, driven."

"There's only one problem," Canaris said. "Vogel's a human being. He has a heart and a conscience. Something tells me he wouldn't fit in with your crowd."

"Why don't you let the two of us meet? Perhaps we can think of some way to pool our resources for the good of the Reich. There's no reason for the SD and the Abwehr to be always at each other's throats, like this."

Canaris smiled. "We're at each other's throats, Brigadefuhrer Schellenberg, because you are convinced I am a traitor to the Reich and because you tried to have me arrested."

Which was true. Schellenberg had assembled a file containing dozens of allegations of treason committed by Canaris. In 1942 he gave the file to Heinrich Himmler, but Himmler took no action. Canaris kept dossiers too, and Schellenberg suspected the Abwehr file on Himmler contained material the Reichsfuhrer would rather not be made public.

"That was a long time ago, Herr Admiral. It's in the past."

Canaris jabbed the heel of his riding boot into his horse and they started moving again. The stables appeared in the distance.

"May I be so bold as to offer an interpretation of your offer to be of assistance, Brigadefuhrer Schellenberg?"

"Of course."

"You would like to be a part of this operation for one of two reasons. Reason one, you could sabotage the operation in order to further lower the reputation of the Abwehr. Or, reason two, you could steal Vogel's intelligence and claim all the credit and glory for yourself."

Schellenberg slowly shook his head. "This mistrust between us, such a pity. So distressing."

"Yes, isn't it."

They rode together into the stables and dismounted. A pair of stable boys scampered out and led the horses away.

"A pleasure as always," Canaris said. "Shall we take breakfast together?"

"I'd love to, but I'm afraid duty calls."

"Oh?"

"A meeting with Himmler and Hitler, eight o'clock sharp."

"Lucky you. What's the topic?"

Walter Schellenberg smiled and laid his gloved hand on the older man's shoulder.

"Wouldn't you like to know."

"How was the Old Fox this morning?" Adolf Hitler said as Walter Schellenberg walked through the door at precisely eight o'clock. Himmler was there, sitting on the overstuffed sofa sipping coffee. It was the image Schellenberg liked to present to his superiors-too busy to arrive for a meeting early and engage in small talk, disciplined enough to be prompt.

"As cagey as ever," Schellenberg said, pouring himself a cup of the steaming coffee. There was a jug with real milk. Even the staff at the SD had trouble securing a steady supply these days. "He refused to tell me anything about Vogel's operation. He claims he knows nothing about it. He has permitted Vogel to work under extremely secretive circumstances, allowing himself to be kept in the dark about the details."