“Got it,” Wili said.
“Okay, let’s get moving. Teatime is finished. Green Devils, off your asses and back into the war.”
There was grumbling, but there was always grumbling; only its absence would have been remarkable.
They reached the gap at around seven P.M. He could see the cliffs narrowing in to the road, forming a natural choke point. Natasha’s Womb, in its narrow glory.
“Ginger’s Womb!” somebody cried, and everybody laughed.
Karl blushed. “Enough of that,” he said, but knew it was too late. A nickname, once given and accepted, was never rescinded.
He looked at the narrow walls, chalky in limestone, a soft rock, easily cracked or blasted. Blockading it, then blowing it, wouldn’t be difficult. But not now, after the long, tense trek. Looking around, he could tell they were surrounded on all sides by the Carpathians and, in the fading light, saw an ocean of waves in the earth’s surface, ancient mountains beaten smooth by the passage of eons and now shrouded and softened in pines. He ordered a quick setup of a night defensive position, arranged the guys along the road on either side. Finally he ordered his signalman to set up and make contact with base, for any reports and to make his own.
But in a few minutes, Signals called him over.
“Karl, I can’t get through. Everyone’s on the net, I can’t make contact with Zeppelin, I can’t reach Panzer headquarters or the Kommissariat.”
“Has the offensive gone off?”
“It’s not combat traffic, it’s — well, political.”
“Political?”
“I hear — arrests, worries about loyalty, protestations of innocence, intense allegiance swearing, all a mess. Here, listen.”
He peeled off the earphones and Karl squatted down to dip in to them. He heard a crazed staccato of chatter, no protocols at all, signals coming in and out, basically confusion. It wasn’t like a German army to lose control of procedure so radically. What the hell could be happening?
“Damned strange,” he said. “Is there another channel?”
“I’ve tried them all, sir. Everywhere it’s crazy.”
“Damned strange,” he said again. But the radio buzzed, meaning incoming transmission. Von Drehle took up the telephone mike with the send button. “Hello, hello,” he said. “Oskar Leader here, I repeat, this is Oskar Leader.”
“Yes, dammit, Von Drehle, Zeppelin Leader here, where the hell have you been?”
“Advancing five kilometers into the mountains, Captain.”
“Are you in place?”
“Yes, we have arrived. We’ll wire the cliff for demo tomorrow and set up defensive lines. I do need to pick up that Flammenwerfer, old man.”
“Haven’t you heard? My God, man, get your head out of your ass!”
“I don’t—”
“Someone tried to assassinate the führer. Early reports were that he is dead. But he survived a bomb attempt.”
Von Drehle thought: It was bound to happen. The man is a maniac, without concern for his troops. But he could only say, “I receive.”
“Police Battalion has been dispatched on security duty. We are making arrests from an SA list of probable suspects. I need you to hold secure in your area, be very alert for partisan movement, make certain—”
“Arrests? Who are you arresting, goddammit? There’s no one to arrest in Fourteenth Panzergrenadier, for Christ’s sake, these men have been fighting for two years out here.”
“I am not at liberty to discuss direct orders from Berlin with some parachutist captain on a mountaintop. You will hold your position, build defensive breastworks, patrol for bandit activity.”
“Zeppelin Leader, I am in receipt of message. End transmit.”
“End transmit,” said Salid from wherever he was.
Von Drehle sat back, confounded. What the hell was going on? Arresting suspects? What did that mean? Who was in charge, how would things change, what was his duty now? You had to watch yourself in these crazy times; anyone could end up in front of a firing squad.
He decided he’d best double-check with 14th Panzergrenadier to make certain his orders remained as the Arab had said. He told Signals to reach division headquarters. Certainly there’d be no way he could get to Von Bink, but one of Von Bink’s able assistants would at least know what the policy was.
It took a while, but he got through, at least to a low-level command.
“Hello, hello, this is Oskar calling for anyone at kingdom headquarters.”
“Oskar, Oskar, we can’t raise headquarters, either. This is Lieutenant Colonel Rungen, Fifth Battalion, Third Regiment, Fourteenth Panzergrenadiers.”
“Sir, Major Von Drehle, Twenty-one Para, Battlegroup Von Drehle.”
“Yes, Major.”
“Colonel, what is going on?”
“It’s a confused situation, and I have to say, it doesn’t look good. But be careful who you talk to. They’re going around arresting people and hauling them off. Just before a Red offensive, too. Excellent timing.”
“Sir, I’m up at Natasha’s Womb with orders to hold until relieved. I just wanted to make sure that was still in accordance with General Von Bink’s orders.”
“I would have no way of knowing. SS has sealed off division headquarters. Now SS Panzer Muntz, that moron, is in command of all armored units. I regret to inform you — General Von Bink has been arrested.”
CHAPTER 37
And you, Ms. Reilly,” Jerry Renn continued, “I have to say, ma’am, ever since I’ve been in Moscow, I’ve read your Post stuff and I don’t think anyone gets this place better than you. Incredible job.”
Swagger and Reilly looked at each other. Then Swagger said, “Cut the shit, sonny. Who are you, what do you want? Who do you work for?”
“People who like you.”
“You like me so much, you tried to nail me in Lviv.”
“Let’s say we’ve abandoned that policy. It was a mistake.”
“Yeah, sure.”
“We could have taken you standing here on the bridge if we’d wanted to. No, we want to try something else. Cooler heads have prevailed. I’m sure we can get it squared away. Just so you know, I’m unarmed. Except for this.”
He pulled out a pistol. It was the suppressed Makarov that Bob had taken from his would-be assassin in Lviv, which he’d left in his room. Jerry tossed it over the bridge and it disappeared with a splash.
“Make your pitch, junior. What’s this all about? What’s it to anybody what happened in Ukraine seventy years ago? Where’s an American interest?”
“What you’ve discovered just so happens to shine a light where we don’t want light to shine. It could begin a process of unraveling. I know, it’s such a little thing, one event in a war over seventy years ago, who on earth could give a damn? But it leads somewhere.”
“What is he talking about?” said Reilly.
“Spy shit. There’s a secret here these jokers need to keep quiet. I haven’t figured it yet, but I’m working real hard on it.”
“We’re the good guys, we’re the last great hope, but if you publish, Ms. Reilly, you do a lot of harm. A lot of harm. We’re very uncomfortable with that.”
“See, in the old days, they just said, ‘We’ll kill you,’ ” said Swagger. “Now they say, ‘We’re uncomfortable with that.’ ”
“There’s no need to talk of killing,” said Renn. “Look, I’m not just asking for favors, I understand the quid pro quo that underlies every political transaction. I’m authorized to tell you that if you cooperate with us on this, all sorts of good stuff can happen. We can make selected deliveries of very hot intel for Reilly. When you get back to D.C., you can have the phone numbers of some very important folks who, at our request, will always call you back. Not saying you’re a failure now, no, not at all, but we can move you into the big leagues. You’d be stunned how many of D.C.’s leading journalists have been helped along by us.”