A Gregory was now in the uniform of a German colonel he would never have dared to attempt travelling on a train within a hundred miles of the war zone, or anywhere near Germany's frontiers, without the military voucher which anyone in uniform would normally have presented; but as they were right in the centre of Germany and far from any military zone he felt that he might risk trying to buy tickets, like an ordinary civilian, without arousing awkward questions.
Just before they reached the door of the railway station he touched Charlton on the arm and said: "Now we're for it But keep a stiff upper lip and forget all the German that you've recently learned. Whatever happens, you're to stay absolutely dumb and not utter a word, even if they speak to you in English, unless I tell you to."
"Right," said Freddie, and pushing open the door they went into the small, dimly lit station hall.
The booking office was closed and only two people were in sight; an elderly porter and an officer of the S.S. in a smart black uniform. What this Nazi official was doing there at such an hour Gregory had no idea but he did not by the flicker of an eyelid show his alarm at this inconvenient meeting. Striding up to the porter he said with abrupt authority befitting his rank:
"What time does the next train go to Berlin?"
"Five twenty," mumbled the porter.
"Is there a waiting room here where we can sit in comfort?"
The porter jerked his head in the direction of a door leading out of the small hall. "You can wait in there, Herr Oberst, but there's no fire." And having given them this depressing information he slouched out on to the platform.
The officer of the S.S. had been eyeing them curiously. Freddie had on the grey green officer's greatcoat in which Gregory had left Berlin but he did not look like a German officer and he was still wearing his flying helmet. Lifting his hand in a casual half salute the Nazi said to Gregory:
"You are up early, Herr Oberst."
Gregory frowned. "my car broke down just outside the town it's this filthy Ersatz petrol otherwise I should have gone straight through to Berlin by road. As it is, my business is urgent so I left the chauffeur with the car and walked in to catch the first train."
"You've over two hours to wait yet," said the Nazi, "and you'll find it icy cold in that waiting room. I think you'd better come along with me to Party Headquarters."
Gregory remained quite still for a moment, but his brain was revving over like the engine of a dynamo. Was this a casual meeting and the Nazi only acting with friendly intentions? or had this man, after the news of the fray in the woods had been telephoned through, left his bed for the purpose of picketing the station and bringing in any suspicious characters who might have slipped past the police on the main road?
There was nothing suspicious about Gregory himself, since his uniform, although somewhat mud stained, was perfect and his German irreproachable; but Freddie Charlton in his queer get up was quite another matter. Flying officers do not wear army officer's greatcoats, and if the coat were once undone it would reveal the service kit of a British Flight Lieutenant. The Nazi was alone, so although he was armed there was a fair chance that the two of them would be able to overcome him before he could secure help. On the other hand, if they attacked him and had a fight in the station hall it was certain that the porter would hear and report it which would put an end to any hope of their being allowed on the Berlin train when it came in. Yet for what other reason could the Nazi be there at three o'clock in the morning, if riot to bring in suspects? If that was so, and they once allowed him to take them to the Party Headquarters, Gregory knew that it would mean a firing squad for him the following morning.
His hand moved towards his gun.
Chapter VII
Invitation to the Lion’s Den
GREGORY had raised his hand only a couple of inches when, evidently entirely unsuspicious of his intention, the S.S. officer produced his cigarette case with a flourish and flicked it open.
"A cigarette, Herr Oberst?" he said, offering the case with a friendly smile.
It was touch and go. In another second Gregory would have whipped out his automatic to hold the Nazi up. As it was, with, a polite "Danke, Herr Ober Lieutenant," he accepted the cigarette, and Charlton, being offered the case, took one too, refraining from speaking but smiling his thanks.
As they lit up the Nazi went on: "It's just as you like. You can remain in the waiting room if you prefer, but it's devilishly cold in there and you know how late the trains are running these days. I doubt if yours will be in before half past six. I've just finished the job that brought me out to night but I'm still on duty. At Party Headquarters I could fix you up with a drink and make you quite comfortable in the Mess."
Once more Gregory hesitated. Was this a trap because they were two to one and the Nazi wanted to get them inside quietly without having to risk his life tackling two desperate fugitive’s Or was his offer of hospitality genuine? If the Nazi really had no inkling that they were on the run a
refusal of his offer was the very thing best calculated to arouse his suspicions. No one but a fool, or a man who had something to hide, would willingly kick his heels in an icy station waiting room for three hours in preference to sitting in a warns Mess. It was a horrible dilemma but Gregory was a shrewd judge of character and the bluff, fair faced Ober Lieutenant was not the type that makes a good actor; so he was now inclined to think
that of the two risks it would be better to enter the lions' den.
But the devil of it was that once they reached the Nazi Mess
Charlton would have to remove his greatcoat and reveal his; R.A.F. service kit. That was the awful snag; but Gregory decided that there was only one thing for it: to risk his friend's freedom on a line that he had already thought out for use in an emergency, and to gamble once again upon the audacity which, had served him so well in the past.
"You are most kind," he said, "and nothing would suit me setter than to doze in one of your arm chairs for an hour or two. but I must first ask you if you are willing to take into your custody a British officer."
Freddie had picked up enough German from von Lutz luring the past two and a half weeks to be able to follow the gist if the conversation and when he heard Gregory's request he was utterly staggered. On the face of it Gregory was trying to sell him out and preserve his own liberty at the price of handing his friend over to the Nazis. Such an act of treachery seemed too terrible to contemplate but he felt sure that he had not misunderstood what Gregory had said. It was only with a great effort that he had managed to control his feelings and the muscles of his face while he waited with acute anxiety to see what would happen next.
"A British officer!" exclaimed the Nazi, suddenly switching his surprised glance to Charlton. "Is that him there?"
"Yes." Gregory drew calmly on his cigarette. "The cold is so bitter that we had to provide him with a greatcoat, but he's still wearing his service uniform underneath it. D'you think you can find him a cell?"
"Why, certainly, if you wish. But why isn't he in a prisoners of war camp?"
"Because his plane was only shot down early to night, over Essen."
"I see. But Essen 's a long way away nearly five hours from here by road. Why wasn't he interned locally?"
"He was shot down at about nine o'clock," Gregory shrugged, "and as he was flying a new type of plane the anti aircraft people handed him over at once to Intelligence. He's rather an unusual type for a flying officer and I think, if he's handled properly, we may get something out of him. Anyhow, we immediately telephoned Berlin about this new type of machine he was in and it aroused such interest at the Air Ministry that Marshal Goering said he would like to see him personally. That meant at once, of course, and it was not a job that could be passed on to a junior officer so I set off with him by car straight away."