Opening Moves (The Red Gambit Series) (23 page)

“Good night Comrade Commissar.”

“Good night to you Comrade Marshall.”

The superior man, when resting in safety, does not forget that danger may come. When in a state of security he does not forget the possibility of ruin. When all is orderly, he does not forget that disorder may come. Thus, his person is not endangered, and his States and all their clans are preserved.

Confucius

0529 hrs Monday, 16th July 1945, White Sands Bombing Range, New Mexico, USA.

The White Sands Bombing range was a desolate place and hot, so very, very hot. Of late, it had seen many visitors. Sat at the top of a one hundred foot metal tower was a gadget. Actually,
The
Gadget, for that was what it was called. It was a plutonium implosion device and it was there to be exploded to prove that the technology worked.

Scientists and military alike observed from positions around the site, some official and some unofficial.

Klaus Fuchs, also known as Gamayun, being on duty, watched from a proper camp some ten miles distant from the tower. A last-minute change in security procedures had left him with no opportunity to do anything harmful to the project. He hoped that the other agents within Manhattan would be more successful but his priority was his own survival.

Emilia Perlo, also known as Alkonost, had been enjoying the constant companionship of a reserved yet handsome Lieutenant Colonel of US Military Intelligence since lunchtime
 
on Friday. They had excitedly discussed the upcoming test and agreed to take the early morning drive down to see the ‘rainbow’ in all its glory. Setting off while it was still dark, they had travelled in his staff car to a beautiful spot roughly fifteen miles southeast of Socorro and parked on high ground about twenty miles north-west of the device. The driver, she hadn’t expected a driver when the idea was first ventured, had parked up almost oblivious to the pair of them and they had carried their picnic hamper to a vantage point, smoked cigarettes, drunk soda and waited for the show.

This officer was new to the camp and Emilia had noticed him looking at her so the play had been made. He wanted to look round the camp so Emmy had been his guide for the whole weekend and now here they were. He was too much of a gentleman to accept her barely concealed offer to join her in her bed on the previous evening, but she hoped that he would lose his reserve for tonight.

In any case, they were both here to witness history being made and so she put aside her earthy thoughts for now and concentrated looking westwards. His constant attention had meant that she had delayed her plans to sabotage some of the project but, in any case, once the test was successfully out of the way Emilia was sure access to the accommodation block she intended to destroy would be easier in the euphoria.

At approx 0530 hrs, the gadget was detonated.

Or rather it wasn’t, or actually it was but didn’t. Either way, there was no spectacular demonstration of fission. What transpired was colloquially known as a fizzle. Those paying close attention would see something but not the anticipated spectral rainbow and vast explosion. The device did explode but mainly spread its plutonium around the local site, which brought its own problems for the team who had to decide what went wrong.

It would be some weeks before a proper investigation would begin. Until then the scientists struggled with their figures and calculations and progress was virtually halted.

Gamayun knew immediately that something had gone wrong and celebrated inwardly that another agent had managed somehow to tamper with the device.

Alkonost knew only that the expected show had not arrived on the allotted hour and started to wonder the same, but she and the officer stayed where they were for some time anyway, just in case it was merely delayed.

All over the Manhattan Project, there was disbelief and immense disappointment for months, possibly years of wasted work.

2013
hrs Monday, 16th July 1945, Scientists Accomodation Block, Los Alamos, New Mexico, USA.

Disappointingly, Emilia had been forced to drink alone, as her handsome escort had cried off at the doorway to her block early in the evening, pleading tiredness as an excuse for his swift departure.

After a couple of bourbon’s, Emmy decided that she had best stop drinking for the moment, as she obviously needed to compile a report for her cousin.

Out came the necessary items and she steadily went to work putting together a nice letter to Victoria, talking about the weather and the handsome young officer who clearly wanted her so badly.

Letter finished, she sealed it in an envelope, addressed it, and placed it on the small table by her door.

The knock on that door took her totally by surprise, more so because she heard the voice of her newest potential lover calling her name. The evening may not be so bad after all, she thought, as she placated him with a reply and rushed to secrete her book and make sure no clues lay open to scrutiny.

She opened the door having quickly checked her hair and lips. That she was in her underwear was of no concern to her.

“Well hello Karl. Changed your mind honey?”

As wonderful as Emilia looked in her stockings and lacy bra, Lieutenant Colonel Karl Da Silva was there for another purpose. In fact, he had been rushed to the facility on Friday morning purely for that single purpose.

All of Emilia’s senses lit off in one second as Da Silva walked wordlessly into the room followed by a civilian whom she knew was an FBI agent based on site. She had even tried to bed him once but his preference for other pursuits had terminated her attempt.

‘
Military Intelligence
’ was ringing loudly in her mind and she inwardly screamed at herself. ‘
He is Military Intelligence you stupid fucking useless bitch!
’ The thought cut to the heart of her. She had just accepted that because MI officers were in and out of the area all the time, sniffing around the scientists. How could she have been so stupid?

“Please sit down Miss Perlo.”

She did as she was told and reached for the bourbon. Da Silva neatly fended her hand away from it, took it up and placed it away from her reach.

“I think not Emilia. You will need a clear head.”

Da Silva looked around, grabbed her robe and threw it to her, and took a chair opposite her. The FBI agent took out a pad and sat on the bed. It was mainly for show, as the room had been extensively wired when Da Silva had ensured Emmy was absent for sufficient time the previous evening. It had taken them about five minutes to find where she hid her camera. Tape-recorders were already rolling.

“Now, you know why Agent Manzoni and I are here.” He held up his hand automatically.

“Please do not bother with denials or reasons.” He suddenly realised that no immediate denial had sprung forth from Emmy’s mouth and that the woman in front of him had already crumbled inside and would be ripe for his purposes.

He continued more softly. “We just want to know everything, from the very beginning, leaving out nothing.”

“Before you begin, understand that at this very moment other security officers are having similar conversations with Cousin Victoria and your Aunt Marta.”

That actually wasn’t true but the leverage wouldn’t hurt.

“You have no one you need to protect and nowhere to run. Your future depends on what you do and say here. Do you understand?”

No words came, just a simple frightened nod as every essence of confidence and assuredness drained from her and she became nothing but a frightened child confronted by the bogeyman.

“So, your story, from the beginning Emilia.”

And a very illuminating story it was too.

Human beings, who are almost unique in having the ability to learn from the experience of others, are also remarkable for their apparent disinclination to do so.

Douglas Adams

0700 hrs Monday, 16th July 1945, The Château du Haut-Kœnigsbourg, French Alsace.

During the previous week, it had been hectic at the Château. The kitchens had been taking deliveries every day and completely new rooms and buildings were springing up all over the Château. Where once there was a dark and dank cupboard, now a compact space with everything the occupant needed to carry out the job. There was now a staff of twenty-seven on site, not including the security detachment.

The guest accommodation was swiftly transformed to take a possible twenty visitors. The entire symposium noticed that two of the ‘suites” were of a standard fit for a king and made assumptions that someone above Brigadier-General rank might be making an appearance.

The Alsatian House in the lower courtyard was made ready to receive more allied officers as the guest accommodation in the Château proper simply could not be laid out adequately.

Care was taken not to damage any of the venerable fittings and fixtures but everywhere new walls sprung up as rooms were compartmented for privacy.

Fig#5- Chateau - Biarritz modifications

The menagerie enclosure in the Saillant Est section now contained new wooden huts into which the Commandos had moved without rancour, the huts being well appointed and benefiting from showers and wind proofing.The central Basse Cour area was mainly set aside for staff and guests.

The symposium members had been moved into the Secret Garden in the Château Supérieur, where they enjoyed similar quarters, and satisfied the new requirement that they be kept aside from the Allied officers, at least until after the first morning. The Deuxieme Bureau staff moved into the adjacent Grand Bastion where less grand but extremely comfortable conversions had been down by a team of carpenters, creating bedrooms where once shot was stored or cannon stood.

Fig#6 - First floor - Biarritz Modifications

The cellar had become multi-purpose, by day divided into four distinct classroom areas, by night filled with comfortable furniture and livened by the sounds of men sampling the local brews.

Whilst the disjointed nature of the facilities was not ideal, once everyone grew confident in the layout, the Château was more than suitable for the task.