“Comrades,” they turned to the senior military man present, “There’ll be no need to worry about her. I’m convinced of the woman’s loyalty to the Motherland, and she will see no disloyalty from any of us, or our men. All she’ll see is those committed to the Rodina. This… err… conversation… we can turn this to our advantage in some way. Her relationship with Ilya will be better… yet more entrenched. I agree with Ilya’s view that to have avoided telling the truth could have undermined our future plans. Let’s just bring her more and more under our control. Keep her informed… facts… not necessarily all but certainly nothing concocted… leave out the names of those who we have in our sights… play down their complicity until we are ready… ready to clean the whole house of vermin. She’ll play her part. We know how that’ll be achieved, so I say let it all run.”
The assembled plotters grunted their agreement.
“Fine… but I agree with Vassily. Make sure we keep someone on her constantly, someone with specific orders if she steers off the road. Can we all agree on that?”
All eyes turned back to the Marshal.
“It won’t be necessary… but for your collective peace of mind, I’ll agree.”
“Yes. Excellent. Ilya, another glass of your peasant piss!”
A thought occurred to Kaganovich.
“Oh, and on that subject, I’m told that our woman is acquiring a regular thirst. I also noted it. Not a problem yet, but it may need watching.”
1000 hrs, Monday, 9th December 1946, office of General Strong, NATO Headquarters, Frankfurt, Germany.
“Thank you for coming, General Gehlen.”
“Thank you, General Strong.”
They both sat as the ordered coffee and biscuits was placed on the exquisite rosewood table before them.
Relaxing into the comfortable chairs, Gehlen looked like a cat on a hot tin roof.
“I take it you have gathered nothing new on our problem, General?”
“Nothing at all, General Strong. Yesterday I discovered how it was that my agents were being moved out of their positions. One of my own staff was supplying information, Ludwig Schneider, a long-serving and trusted man. He’s now out of the way.”
Strong raised an enquiring eyebrow but managed to say nothing, resisting the opportunity to further enlighten his intelligence colleague.
“Oh no, he doesn’t know about my meetings with you on the matter… and neither have I killed him. I have trusted men asking him a long list of questions. They’ve all the time they require to get me the answers I need.”
“Well, good luck with that. My own news is less stark but as important.”
He took a healthy draught of his coffee before setting the cup down on the saucer with studied care.
“Diels. I believe he’s running a security operation within the hierarchy of the German Republic. I believe you’ve just set that in stone.”
He took up his cup again but paused, knowing he could not leave that just hanging there and replaced it, rising quickly and picking up a file from his desk.
Thumbing through the surveillance reports, he selected the appropriate one and passed it to the mystified Gehlen.
“Verdamnt!”
“Quite.”
“On Thursday… Schneider met with Diels on Thursday? May I use your phone please, General Strong?”
“Of course.”
Gehlen quickly got a line to his headquarters and his bark guaranteed that he was quickly through to the required extension.
The initial part of the conversation was brief, and heavily featured the words ‘Pyramide’, ‘Donnerstag’, and ‘Schwein’.
Strong noted the word Pyramide, as it was the agreed name for Diels, to be used at all times when not in private conversation.
There was an impatient pause, during which Gehlen was twitching and unable to stand still.
“Ja? Gut… gut… danke.”
He nodded at Strong and completed the call with a flourish.
Returning to his coffee, he sat down with an air of triumph.
“Just using Diels’ name was enough. Schneider is being debriefed at the moment… he knows he’s in big trouble and has agreed to tell us all he knows.”
“Still, I don’t think we’ve enough yet to go and trouble our masters with.”
He caught Gehlen’s look and immediately realised what he had said.
“My apologies, Reinhard. It must be very difficult for you.”
Strong refilled the cups by way of apology.
“So, we wait on what Schneider has to say for himself then?”
“Yes, General Strong.”
“Any progress on Uspenka?”
Gehlen lied smoothly.
“No. Nothing. I assume you have nothing to tell either?”
“I think that puts it rather well.”
Chapter 181 – THE ABOMINATION
Auschwitz speaks against even a right to self-determination that is enjoyed by all other peoples because one of the preconditions for the horror, besides other, older urges, was a strong and united Germany.
1439 hrs, Friday, 20th December 1946, Auschwitz-Birkenau, Poland.
The Major of Engineers saluted briskly, clearly showing his displeasure with the task allotted to his battalion.
The man was steeped in the all-pervasive odour of death.
“Comrade Leytenant General. Our mission is complete. Comrade Polkovnik Ursov has carried out a final inspection of the main site and directs me to inform you that all locations have been prepared and dressed as directed.”
NKVD General Oleg Yegorov, sent from Moscow to specifically manage the task, grunted his satisfaction, his eyes still taking in the horrors that had been created under his instructions.
He corrected the thought.
‘Comrade Beria’s instructions.’
Yegorov considered the moment and decided that all that could be done had been done.
“Very well, Comrade Mayor. Our work here is completed. Inform Polkovnik Ursov that I’ll meet him at the main entrance shortly, but that he may start withdrawing his units.”
The Major saluted and strode away, keen to be away from the man who had brought them to this place and handed them the very worst of tasks.
“Leytenant.”
The aide hovered nearby and responded immediately.
“I’m going to the main camp. Send a message to Moscow headquarters. Mission complete.”
“Yes, Comrade Leytenant General.”
0820 hrs, Tuesday, 24th December 1946, Orzesche, Poland.
Knocke had experienced what was, for him, a lie in.
He followed that with a large breakfast and had stuffed himself on a sausage, egg, and fried potato breakfast that could have, in his opinion, sustained a platoon in the field for a fortnight.
Two of the senior men from Camerone noisily stowed away the hot food with him, food that had been prepared by the headquarters cook from ingredients ‘liberated’ by Caporal-Chef Ett, a man who would, according to SS and now legion legend, find a crate of beer and a bottle opener on the moon.
Between him and Hässelbach, the senior officers of Camerone wanted for little.
Camerone had come to its present positions in Silesia six days previously, and the division was still shaking out the last few details of its deployment, although many metres of defensive positions had been dug and comfortable bunkers had sprung out of the ground in record time.
Uhlmann had arrived early, the morning ahead mapped out for him and Emmercy to deliver their ideas on the new structure of the tank and marching regiments respectively.