Dennis Wheatley - Traitors' Gate

It was one of the Board's principal functions to scrutinize all troop movements and see to it that the public knew as little as possible about them; so, soon after any new operation had been definitely decided upon, the Board was automatically informed. That morning, Operation Torch was one of the items on the agenda, and was to remain so for many weeks to come; for the problems entailed in covering the movement of ships, men and aircraft, in preparation for the great expedition, were innumerable.

As yet they had only the outline plan, since 'Eps' as the Executive Planning Staffs in the three Service Ministries were called were still working on the nuts and bolts which would turn the plan from a broad strategic conception into a practical operation of war with the forces and supplies needed to carry it out nominated down to the last detail.

A middle aged Major of the Royal Scots who had among his ribbons an M.C. with bar, and who was Secretary to the Board, read out particulars in clear incisive tones; the 'Cardinal' Colonel, who was Chairman, made some comments, then the Admiralty representative looked across at the airman from the War Cabinet Offices and said in a high-pitched, rather nasal, voice:

'Now we shall see if amateurs like you and your new Colonel can really produce the goods.'

The airman was junior to the sailor so he replied with chill politeness, 'Given a continuance of the help always so generously afforded us by I.S.S.B., sir, I think we may manage.'

The sailor was far from popular; so a large man in civilian clothes, who was Chief of counterespionage in Britain and affectionately known to the rest of the party as 'Himmler,' tittered.

The Major with the double M.C. gave the airman a friendly smile. 'Unlike our naval member, this old horse feels no pain and grief that such headaches are no longer ours. But this little affair is going to be quite something; and naturally the Board will be right behind you.'

A youngish, good-looking Captain who was on the secretariat looked up from the notes he had been making with his left hand, and added, 'It's going to be murder if things go wrong. The Jerries can hardly fail to spot a convoy of this size and what might happen if the U-boat packs got into it does not bear thinking about.'

'That's not our worst worry,' replied the airman. 'There would be losses, of course, but not serious enough to cripple the operation if the naval escorts do their stuff. Besides, there is at least some hope that we'll be able to get them down to Gib. undetected. The real trouble will start as soon as they turn in to go through the Straits. Then any cover we have managed to give their initial sailing must be blown. Once in the Med. the whole of the Axis air force will be alerted; and, if the object of the operation leaks out, the Vichy French may prove hostile into the bargain. If the landings are seriously opposed it could be a massacre. I only hope to God we'll be able to think up some way of foxing the enemy about our 'ultimate objectives.'

The Major nodded. 'I'd say that your new master will produce a better rabbit than we would have got from old one leg Dumbo; but the two of you have certainly been given one hell of an assignment. This could be worse than Tobruk. The Order of Battle will include the best of everything the Army's got, and they'll be two thousand miles from home. There will be no getting the remnants off in small boats as we did at Dunkirk. Well, let us know how we can help, and keep your chin up.'

Had Gregory been at this meeting he would have been equally worried about the outcome of the expedition to North Africa, but at least he would have been disabused of his idea that the British and Americans intended to do nothing in 1942 which might force the enemy to withdraw a certain number of divisions from Russia. Such knowledge, had he had it the evening before, would certainly have caused his conversation with Sir Pellinore to take an entirely different turn; so it is most unlikely that the project of his going to Budapest would ever have arisen.

As it was, while the I.S.S.B. was discussing the first tentative arrangements for the security of Operation Torch, he was lying in his bath thinking of that lovely city, so justly termed 'The Queen of the Danube,' Or, to be more accurate, he was thinking of a wonderful three weeks that he had spent there three years before the war in the company of a very lovely young woman,

In the summer of 1936, on behalf of Sir Pellinore, he had been engaged in investigating international smuggling operations which had assumed large and dangerous proportions; for, in addition to big consignments of contraband goods, a number of Communist agitators were being flown in by night to secret landing grounds in lonely parts of Kent. His painstaking enquiries on the French coast had got him nowhere until one midnight in the Casino at Deauville his curiosity had been aroused by the sight of a beautiful dark-haired girl and, quite incidentally, the fact that she was in the company of an elderly man whom he knew to be a crooked financier.

She had proved to be a Hungarian named Sabine Szenty,' and it was through having got to know her later that night in unusually dramatic circumstances that he secured his first clue to the problem which had so far defeated him. Unwillingly to begin with, then in rebellion against her crooked chief, she had eventually helped him to unmask the smugglers' organization. It had very nearly cost both of them their lives and, even when the job was done, her own participation in their criminal activities left her liable to prosecution and a prison sentence. To save her from that he had performed a highly illegal act himself; but he had had no cause to regret it, for after their arrival in Budapest she had rewarded him in an entirely suitable manner.

He wondered now what had happened to her, and if she was still living in the Hungarian capital. It was probable that by this time she had married; but she had never sought to conceal the fact that she was by nature an adventuress, and believed in taking all the good things of life that offered with both hands; so he thought it unlikely that she would as yet have settled down to respectable domesticity. She could still be only about twenty-eight and with beauty such as hers she would be able for years yet, should she wish, to change one rich husband for another.

Sabine, he decided, compared favourably with any of the numerous women whom for a season he had loved and who had returned his love. Erika was, of course, the great exception, and he was not being consciously unfaithful to her when he thought of those laughing carefree sunny days and hectic nights that he had spent with Sabine beside the Danube, and wished that he had some magic formula for setting time back so that he might enjoy them all over again.

Later in the day, he told Rudd that on Wednesday morning he would be going north on a week's leave and that shortly after his return he expected to be away from London for quite a time.

Rudd pushed the greasy cap he always wore, both indoors and out, on to the back of his head, scratched in his yellowish hair above the right ear and said in a wheedling tone:

'See 'ere Mr. Gregory, sir; that's Dutch for you goin' abroad again, an' you don't 'ave to tell me no different. Can't yer take me wiv yer, sime as you done now an' again in the old days? I'd pull me weight. You know that. An' the 'ome' Guard's become a farce now, wiv not a 'ope o' any of us old sweats wot's in it gettin' a crack at the Jerries.'

'Sorry, old friend,' Gregory replied with real sympathy. 'I wish I could; but this time it's right out of the question. I won't forget you, though, when another chance does occur to use the sort of help you have always given me so willingly.'

'Thanks, sir,' Rudd grinned, showing teeth that badly needed the attention of a dentist. 'Well, good luck then; an' should you be seein' little ole 'itler, give 'im an extra one from me right on the kisser.'