Greg Iles - The Spandau Phoenix

that an answer from the Duke of Hamilton might still arrive-that peace

negotiations could still be arranged. He hoped that he had been

summoned to the Berghof today to discuss that very event.

Wiping the sweat from his brow, he took another long look out at the

great mountain across the valley. Legend told that the Emperor

Charlemagne slept beneath the Untersberg, that one day he would rise up

to restore the lost glory of the German Empire. Hess had often boasted

that Adolf Hitler was the fulfillment of that prophecy. Now he was not

so sure. No man was more faithful to the Fuhrer than he, but lately he

had begun to think back to the old days, to the Great War. Hess had

been Hitler's company commander then, and young Hitler only a dispatch

runner, one more mustard-gassed soldier betrayed by the Jewish

financiers.

Hess caught his breath as another stab of agony twisted his stomach. He

shut his eyes against the pain, yet even as he did, a horrifying vision

filled his mind. He saw the frozen, limitless steppes of Russia

stretching away before him, league after league, drenched in blood.

German blood.

When the pain finally eased, he pressed his sweaty palms to the great

sheet of glass, fingers outspread, and looked out at the Untersberg in

silent invocation: If ever there was a time for you to rise, emperor, it

is now! What the Fuhrer plans was beyond even Napoleon, and I fear that

without some miracle, the task he set us is too great"Rudi!" Adolf

Hitler called across the richly appointed salon. "Come here! Let me

see you!" w, he felt a jolt of asWhen Hess turned from the windo

tonishment. The effusive welcome had not surprised him; Hitler often

complained that his senior staff did not visit the Berghof frequently

enough. But his clothes ... Hess was startled speechless. For some

time now Hitler had worn dark business suits during the day, and dressed

with particular severity around the time of military conferences. But

today-with a major war conference scheduled in a matter of hours-he

looked just as he had during the early thirties, wearing a blue linen

sport jacket, white shirt, and a yellow tie to top it all off. Hitler

strode forward and clapped Hess on the back, then led him away from the

window.

"I've had historic news today, Rudi," he said, his voice quavering with

excitement. "Prophetic news."

Hess braced himself for whatever revelation might follow this ominous

preface. "What has happened, my Fuhrer?"

"All in good time," Hitler said cryptically. "Tell me, how are your

training flights progressing?" two a week since Hess shrugged.

"I've managed one or October."

"Good, good. Anyone taking an unusual interest in your activities?"

thought he had seen the Fuhrer wink, For a moment Hess but he banished

the thought. "I don't believe so."

"Not Goring? Or Himmler?"

Hess frowned. "Not directly, no."

Hitler's eyes flickered. "Indirectly?"

"Well ..." Hess looked thoughtful. "Last fall Himmler lent me his

personal masseur, to see if he could relieve my stomach pains-" "Felix

Kersten?"

"Kersten, yes. He was a bit more inquisitive than I thought proper at

the time. Is he one of Himmler's spies?"

"Notorious!" Hitler cackled.

Hess was perplexed. He had not seen the Fuhrer in such a mood since

Compiegne, after the French surrender. He watched Hitler clasp his

hands behind his blue-jacketed back, then pace across the room and stop

before a magnificent Titian nude.

"I have a destination for you, Rudi," Hitler said to the painting.

"At last. Would you like to guess it?"

Hess felt a tightening in his chest. He had played these games before,

and he knew Hitler would say nothing more until he had guessed at least

twice. "Lisbon?" he tried impatiently.

'No.

"Switzerland?"

"No!"

Hess could hear the laughter in Hitler's voice. This really was

intolerable, even from the Fuhrer. Just as Hess started to say

something he might regret, Hitler turned to him with an expression that

could freeze molten steel. "England," he said softly.

Hess thought he had misheard. "I beg your pardon, my FuhrerT' "England,

" Hitler enunciated, his eyes flashing.

With a sudden surge of elation Hess understood. "We've had an answer

from the Duke of Hamilton! Professor Haushofer's letter has done it!"

Hitler waved his hand irritably. "No,'no, Rudi, don't be silly.

Haushofer and his son are merely decoys-diversions meant to confuse

British Intelligence."

Hess opened his mouth to protest, but no words came out.

"I know Haushofer is an old friend of yours, but his dilettante son is a

member of the German resistance, for God's sake. But for you, I'd have

had him shot months ago."

Hess was dumbfounded. To hear that all his peace efforts to date had

been in vain was bad enough, but the revelation that his old friend's

son was a traitor ... it was beyond belief!

hrer? There is no "And the Duke of Hamilton, my Ffi chance that he

might still help us?" n is as loyal an EnHitler snorted. "The Duke of

Hamilton englishman as you could find, Rudi. of course, that doesn't

mean the duke can't prove useful." there

"England," Hess murmured, trying to will away another stomach cramp.

"Would my visit be in an official capacity?"

"of course-not," Hitler scoffed. "That kind of play-acting I leave to

blusterers like Ribbentrop- Your mission will be all substance, Rudi. A

master stroke of statesmanship!"

Hess stood silently for some moments. "Do you ... do you mean that you

have a plan to secure peace from the British?" be th isfaction. "That

is exactly what Hitler amed wi self-sat I mean. Fate has answered us in

our hour of need. Peace and, Rudi, and Russia is within our with

Britain is at h grasp."

Apropos of nothing, Hitler launched into a critical assessthe Russian

stePPes, haries XII's campaigns on ment of C ru ut Mussolini's arrothen

segued ah ptly into a harangue abo gant nephew Ciano. From years of

practice Hess managed to look attentive while ignoring the entire

monologue- His mind was filled by an image of himself flying

hell-forleather over the English Channel on an errand to see GOd only

knew what Englishmen. Finally his anxiety got the better of him, and,

quite out of character, he interrupted Hitler.

,You wish me to fly to London, my Fuhrer?"

on yet," Hitler rep "I'm not sure of the exact destinati lied, ignoring

the interruption. "But certainly not London. MY God, they'd throw you

in the Tower before you got a chance to speak to anyone!"

"Undoubtedly," Hess agreed. asy, R@0i. What is it)"

Hitler frowned. "You seem une ,Well ... England. I mean, it's not

neutral We're still at war. If I were to be captured there, the results

could be catastrophic." Hess saw Hitler's face darken, as it always did

at the slightest hint of opposition. "I'm not worried for myself, of

course' " he said quickly, "but with all that I know ...

the Russian invasion ... Barbarossa."

ks Hitler snapped. "But there "I'm well aware of the ris " is no

alternative, Rudi- We must have peace with England now, no matter what

the cost. I have considered every option. I even thought of sending

your double in your place.

He hasn't done anything but sit on his backside in Denmark since we

trained him."

Hess felt a jolt of surprise. He had almost forgotten he had a double.

The Fuhrer obviously had not.

"But it would never work," Hitler declared. "The English will be