Angels Don't Die (Madeleine Toche Series Book 2) (22 page)

BOOK: Angels Don't Die (Madeleine Toche Series Book 2)
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“It doesn’t matter to them that she’s a bloody war hero.  That she did their dirty work for years and years.  Not our problem, they said!” Jack said.

“You don’t have any favors to call in, Jack?”  John said.

“My old crew is gone, or high enough up that I can’t even get a message to them through these ‘cold war’ robots, half of whom have never even seen any action in the field.  They vaguely remember Madeleine’s name from their training, but that’s it. They keep parroting the official line, ‘we cannot interfere without direct orders,” Jack said.

“We will go and see Hartmann in the morning,” Karen said.  “He has to do something.”

“I don’t know,” Jack said.  “He’ll trust her to do what is necessary to save herself.  I’m worried that he won’t act, or can’t act in an official capacity.  His dedication to Israel is paramount.  He won’t compromise that in any way,” Jack added.

“Jack, there is someone we can call, someone who will do something, whatever he can,” John said.  “It just occurred to me. I should have thought of it before.”

“Who is that?” Jack said.

“A policeman,” John said.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

 

 

 

             
“God, I hate the phone,” Horst Stenger muttered as he heard the incessant ringing. He swung his legs over the side of the bed feeling for his slippers with his bare feet.

When he was a detective the call might have meant a new lead in an investigation or an important arrest.  But since his retirement, the phone didn’t ring as often. He hoped his daughters and their children were safe.  They all lived nearby in this sleepy little community on the outskirts of Munich.  He had worked in the city; commuting from his house for close to thirty years. Now, he liked to spend his time walking to the beer garden, the market, the library and his children’s homes, largely in that order.

             
“I’m retired,” Stenger growled into the receiver as he brought it to his ear.

             
“Major Stenger,” Jack said, addressing Stenger with his old military rank. “This is Jack Teach.  I need your help.  I think Madeleine may be in trouble.”

             
“Tell me everything,” Stenger said, coming immediately awake as he turned on the lamp and sank into a chair.

             
Jack recounted the events leading up to Madeleine’s disappearance.  As soon as he finished, Stenger spoke.

             
“Madeleine told Willi and
me
about Hartmann after the war.  During my years with the central police, I saw his name on a few documents. But a man of his stature never really goes away forever.  So, he is alive and Madeleine has made contact with him.”

             
“Yes, but I don’t think he can help.  His hands are tied.  The Israelis and their Arab neighbors are about to start shooting at each other,” Jack said.

“Yes, but he will know where she is, or at least have a reasonable idea.”

             
“If she knew where she was going, why wouldn’t she have told me?” Jack said.

             
“You told me that she asked you not to follow her, no matter what happened.  You know her better than anyone, Jack.  She would do nothing to compromise the mission,” Stenger said.

             
“Then Hartmann won’t tell me?” Jack said, barely maintaining his composure.

             
“Perhaps not, but, he might tell me,” Stenger said.

             
“Do you know him in an official capacity, Horst?”

             
“No, but for a terrible moment we shared a trench together.  During the first war, he was the best of the best, Germany’s finest.”

             
“I was told he was a German spy in the first war.”

             
“He was more than that; he was a force of nature,” Stenger said.

             
“Please, do whatever you can.  I can’t lose her now, not after the war.  Please help me find her.”

             
“Give me your number and check in at this phone every hour until you hear from me.”

             
Horst placed the phone down in its cradle and rubbed his eyes.  Madeleine Toche, he thought, my old friend.  What have you gotten yourself into?

             
With a deep sigh, Stenger picked up the phone to call his closest friend, a man with whom he’d shared the horrors of two wars and their chance meeting and unlikely friendship with Madeleine towards the end of their second war.  They had been military police officers given the duty of capturing her, the terror of the Gestapo and the SS.  She had killed hundreds of the monsters. They realized that despite being on opposing sides, they were united in despising the Nazi atrocities that they had seen. 

             

             
“What did he say, Jack?”  Karen asked as he hung up the receiver. 

             
“We are to check in at this phone hourly, and that he was going to call Hartmann,” Jack said.

             
“He knows him?” John inquired.

             
“He said something about World War One.”

             
“The man got around, it seems,” John said clasping Jack on the shoulder.  “We both know Horst.  He has connections, he’ll get something done.”

             
“He’s retired now,” Karen said.

             
“Let’s get back to the house and get organized,” John agreed,

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

 

 

 

             
Berthold Hartmann sat at his desk and stared at his phone.  He had heard nothing from Madeleine for more than two days. Ariel had been to the safe house to meet with Madeleine and received the news of her disappearance. Hartmann’s last cabinet meeting had been critical to Israel’s defense.  A specific directive had come through concerning the abducted NSA agent.  Prime Minister Meir had done him the courtesy of not mentioning it in front of her other ministers, but had taken him aside to tell him that she had been specifically asked not to interfere in the rescue of the agent.  Perhaps something could be done after Israel was attacked, but not before.  Hartmann was told the Mossad could have no obvious involvement. 

Meir looked him in the eye and seemed to put special emphasis on the word ‘obvious’.  He needed no clarification.  He couldn’t order anything and his agents couldn’t freelance, but he wasn’t without resources. While he was thinking it through, the phone rang.

             
“Yes,” Hartmann said.

             
“Am I addressing, Captain Berthold Hartmann, Fifth Army, Brandeburg Division?”

             
“Who is this,” Hartmann demanded.

             
“Horst Stenger.”

             
“My God, Stenger, Verdun was a lifetime ago.  What is the retired head of the BKA doing calling me?”  Hartmann said, referring to Stenger’s position with the Bundeskriminalamk, Germany’s Federal Police. “Your resources must be excellent to obtain this phone number.”

             
“Madeleine’s husband, Jack Teach gave it to me,” Stenger said.

             
“So I take it that this phone call is not to discuss old war stories.”

             
“I wish that it was, Captain. I regret losing contact with you after the armistice.  We certainly would have stories to share,” Stenger said.

             
“How is Willi?  I assume that he stayed with you after the defeat,” Hartmann said.

             
“Yes, sir.  He did.  Both in the police force between the wars and the second war,” Stenger said.

             
“You and he were excellent soldiers,” Hartmann said.

             
“We had your example to follow,” Stenger said.

             
“More so in the first war, I trust.”

             
“Both sir.  I did what I could to frustrate Hitler’s master plan in my own way. Yours was more direct, I must say. I assume you read Madeleine’s debriefing dossier following the war,” Stenger said.

             
“I did and thank you for not turning her over to the Gestapo after you captured her.”

             
“At that point in the war, I wouldn’t have turned anyone over to those butchers, much less Madeleine. Jack feels that she is in trouble and needs help.  She was being pursued by a foreign assassin and had to leave our friends behind.  Do you know where she is?”

             
“The Judean Desert,” Hartmann said. “At least that is where she told me she would go to deal with her adversary.”

             
“Then I believe that she is there as we speak.  She would certainly have checked in with you or Jack as soon as she dispatched the assassin,” Stenger said.

             
“Your confidence in her abilities is the same as mine.  I do not believe she has been killed, which means that she has no ability to communicate whatsoever with her team or with me.  I have been forbidden by my government to do anything to assist in the rescue of the agent she came here to retrieve.  I haven’t told my government about Madeleine to any great extent but she left a path of destruction to the doorstep of the PLO, and this required me to assure my Prime Minister that the Mossad was not connected to the attacks on the PLO.  War is on our doorstep.  I have to be cautious; I don’t want to do anything to antagonize the US, when we need their support the most.  However, I am open to any suggestions you might have regarding a rescue mission,” Hartmann said.

             
“I’m worried that if the French government is alerted, they will take the same neutral position as the Americans. The last thing I want is to have the French issue the same edict to their security or armed forces,” Stenger said.

             
“I know how quickly a country can turn on its heroes, Horst.  I agree it would be a wasted effort.  But I sense from your voice that you have an idea.”

             
“Yes, I do, a wild idea, but one that may work.  We need assistance to search the desert and we have little time.  We need to search the area as quickly as possible, and that means we need an aircraft.”

             
“That will be a trick.  Any unidentified or unauthorized aircraft will be shot down, especially if it is operating anywhere near Syrian airspace,” Hartmann said.

             
“Not if they can’t catch it.”

             
“The Syrians have surface to air missiles and plenty of jets, Horst.”

             
“Then the pilot will have to fly below radar as much as possible and be prepared to engage the enemy if necessary,” Stenger said.

             
“I agree, but as a last resort, and only if fired upon.  Now tell me, do you have a jet in your back pocket?”

             
“No, I hoped you might know where we could find one,” Stenger said.

             
“And if I did, how would we obtain this jet?” Hartmann said.

             
“Steal it,” Stenger said.

             
“Who is going to steal the jet, you and Willi?” Hartmann replied.

             
“No.”

             
“Then who?”

             
“The French Foreign Legion,” Stenger said.

             
“Those thugs?  Hartmann laughed. “Why on earth would the Legion steal a jet at the direction of Horst Stenger?”

             
“Bir Hakeim,” Stenger said, “Madeline fought with the Legion in Africa, you know.”

             
“Madeleine has a connection to the Legion’s defense of Bir Hakeim?  That wasn’t included in the debriefing dossier I was privy to,” Hartmann said surprised.

             
“She was there.  She warned the garrison dug in there that Rommel’s army was rolling on their fortification.  She bought them valuable time and stayed to fight during the fifteen days the Legion held their position.  She told me the story in great detail.  It is not widely known, but the Legion’s commander at Bir Hakeim was so impressed with her abilities and fighting spirit, that he swore her in as a Legionnaire on the eve of their retreat from the position.”

             
“If it was anyone other than Madeleine, that would sound like a fairy tale, but I was aware that she had been sent to carry out at least one mission in the region.  She must have been impressive.  Bir Hakeim was a legendary battle and if Madeleine was there for the whole thing, I can understand the Commander’s decision.  The defense of the fort was pivotal.  I take it that you know someone in authority in the Legion,” Hartmann said.

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