Oliver shuddered. “I imagine that you are correct, Herr Reichsführer,” he said. “Have you shown the files to the Fuhrer?”
“I have sent him copies of some of the files,” Himmler said, as calmly as ever. The possibility of Hitler shooting the messenger didn’t seem to have occurred to him. “So, Mr Oliver, what do you really want?”
Oliver threw his chips on the table. “Money,” he said. “I represent a group of… interests in Britain that want to make money, preferably without sharing any of it with the British government…”
“Criminals,” Himmler said. Oliver shrugged. “And your criminals would be willing to help us?”
“For the right price?” Oliver asked. “Of course they would.”
“Excellent,” Himmler said. He opened his bag and brought out a transcript. “This message was intercepted from Britain and was deemed to be of importance. Tell me, what does it mean?”
Oliver skimmed down the page. “It seems to be a speech made before Parliament,” he said. He smiled. “It seems as if I was correct and all of Britain has fallen back in time.”
“I confess I am uncertain what to make of it,” Himmler said. “You will enlighten me; who is the current Prime Minister and what does he represent? What is the current status of Jewish influence? What about the Freemasons? Who is the Monarch; will he support us like the last one was supposed to?”
“The current Prime Minister is Howard Smith,” Oliver said. “He’s Conservative, but apparently a compromise candidate.” He grinned. “If you have an evening spare, I’ll give you a full rundown. There is hardly any Jewish influence within Parliament; most Jews went to Israel…”
“That abominable state,” Himmler burst out. The unpleasantness was back. “The State of Israel will never come into existence!”
Oliver shrugged, trying to appear unconcerned. “As far as I know, there are no Freemasons within the Parliament. The King is King Charles, who has been sidelined by almost all politicians and is generally expected to be removed, along with the rest of his family, should the Lib Dems ever gain power.”
“He will support us then?” Himmler asked. “We could make his role genuine.”
“I doubt it,” Oliver said. He sighed. “It seems from the speech as if you are to go to war with the future England.”
“With the information you have brought us, how can we lose?” Himmler asked. “You will be taken to proper quarters; I will have food and a woman brought to you if you want.” He waved a hand at the laptop. “You will outline a plan for contacting your allies in Britain, for which we will pay you handsomely.”
“It will be a pleasure working with you, Herr Reichsführer,” Oliver said. Himmler shook hands and left, trailing fear in his wake. Heedless of possible watchers, Oliver slumped to the floor.
There were few people whom Heinrich Himmler considered friends. Some people, Goring, for example, were rivals within the complex power struggles of Hitler’s court. Other people, most of his subordinates for example, were clearly inferior to him; who could the Reichsführer be friends with from them? It was bad for discipline. Still, as far as he could, he was friendly with Roth, who’d worked with him on the Night of Long Knives. Roth hadn’t enjoyed that time; even Reichsführer Himmler had grown sick of the killing.
“So, tell me,” Himmler said, “do you believe that they are genuine.”
“Yes, Herr Reichsführer,” Roth said. Whatever their relationship, Himmler would not stand for less than the proper respect. “Now that we are picking up radio broadcasts from Britain, we really have no other choice, but to believe them.”
“The Fuhrer will not be pleased,” Himmler said. “Unfortunately, we have no choice, but to convince him. The files; how helpful can they be?”
Roth smiled. The Reichsführer had fallen in love with the small computers they’d captured. “We’ve barely begun to scratch the surface,” he said. “Unfortunately, while they are helpful in many ways – Galland believes that the aircraft companies could learn from them – many of the files seem designed for children. Long on generalities, short on the specifics we need.”
“And we cannot build more,” Himmler mused. “Not for a long time anyway. Can they be repaired?”
“I don’t think so,” Roth said. “From the list of occupations, there are no… computer specialists. Even if there were any, Oliver believes that without the parts, they cannot be repaired anyway.”
Himmler nodded absently. “This upsets our destiny, but it is a way of pointing us towards our true destiny,” he said. “We have to learn as much as we can from them, whatever the cost.”
“One of the prisoners is a historian,” Roth said carefully, deciding not to mention his skin colour for the moment. “If we were to ask him to write a blunt report…”
“For my eyes only,” Himmler snapped. Roth nodded; a report that placed blame on Hitler on down would not be well-received. “Ask him to start work at once; offer whatever you see fit, time with his wife, time with a French prostitute, anything.”
“Jawohl, Herr Reichsführer,” Roth said. “I shall see to it at once.”
As darkness fell over France, Professor Adrian Horton lay awake, holding his wife in his arms. They’d been too scared for too long; they’d held each other like children, rather than make love in front of their children. The Nazis – he was convinced that it was all real – held his life in their hands, and he was all-too-aware of what the Nazis thought of black men, to say nothing of the white women who married them.
He felt a tear trickle down his cheek; Jasmine shifted in her sleep as it landed on her hair. The… assignment read like a lunatic exam question, with his life and that of his children as the prize. He was under no illusions as to how the Nazis would react to a truthful answer, even though the smooth-talking Roth had promised that the truth, no matter how personally embarrassing it was, would not be punished. Still, he’d never heard of Roth, which meant that Himmler, or someone else, could overrule him.
The Question: Describe the causes and consequences of German defeat. Explain why the Germans were defeated. Suggest ways in which the defeat could be averted. Suggest ways in which the captured technology could be used to aid in that. Time period; one week. Grade; your life…
I’m sorry, he thought, knowing that his decision would be regarded as treason, if he ever managed to return home. Jasmine hadn’t asked him to do anything; he was grateful for that. But, for his children’s sake, there was only one possible answer. Professor Horton mentally composed the answer, until he fell into a fitful sleep.
Over Nantes
France
7th July 1940
The Messerschmitt Bf 109 had no idea that the Eurofighter was present until a burst of cannon fire tore it apart. The Germans were deploying massive air patrols over France, but they’d failed to adapt their tactics. Dunbar whooped as she blew a second Messerschmitt into flaming debris, the other German fighters scattering away from the British planes. Sudden bursts of black smoke revealed the presence of German anti-aircraft fire, and the Eurofighters went into evasive action.