Spandau Phoenix (55 page)

Heydrich sensed that Hitler had finally come to the point of this meeting. "But how is this change to be made, my FuhrerT' he asked softly.

Hitler's eyes flickered. "Ruthlessly, Heydrich' ' as all acts of war must be. On the tenth of May, Winston Churchill is going to die.

And with him King George the Sixth. When that happens, Britain will hold its breath, headless for a few moments of history. And through that brief window, we shall snatch the prize we want-peace in the west.

Then Russia will be ours for the taking, and Guderian's panzers will roll!"

Heydrich cracked his boot heels together and stood rigid before his master.

"Have you been struck dumbt' Hitler asked, his very posture a challenge.

"No, my Fuhrer. It's simply that ... the scope and genius of your concept have shocked me."

Hitler nodded. "I understand. Few men think as I do, with a mind unfettered by the restraints of so-called 'civilized'

SPANDAU PHDENIX

war. Such a concept is ludicrous, a blatant contradictior terms.

But I'm sure you're wondering exactly how deaths of these two men will gain us peace from the English."

Heydrich nodded, though he was actually wondering how the deaths of those men could be accomplished.

. "It's quite simple," Hitler explained. "When the new prime minister takes Churchill's place, his government will be mine. Or at least sympathetic to my ideas. Don't look so surprised. Like Haushofer and others, I too know of certain Englishmen who want peace.

However, the men I speak of are Then of deeds, not words. They understand my true aims, that my primary goal is to expand eastward-not into Britain. They know that Adolf Hitler is the hammer that will crush world communism!"

Heydrich stepped back from the raw force of Hitler's zeal.

"The British Empire was not forged by men who whined at the sight of a little blood, Heydrich. The English understand that to create, one must first destroy. That out of death comes life!" Hitler wiped his brow-

"So YOu see -- -" Heydrich did see. He saw that Hitler-from Machiavellian genius or sheer desperation-had decided to extend the tactics of terror, which had served him so well during the Party's early expansion, into the realm of international policy.

Heydrich also saw that this decision would immeasurably raise his value to Hitler vis-A-vis purely military officers.

Where another man might recognize imminent disaster, Heydrich saw opportunity. hands together, "be "So, " Hitler concluded, bringing his ginning now, you will devote all your energies to devising a method by which Winston Churchill and George the Sixth can be liquidated. Three limits must define your plan. First, your mission cannot be accomplished in such a way as to incriminate Germany or the National Socialist Party. Second, you will conduct all inquiries involved in your t)lanning in in such a way that neither Reichsfiihrer Hi mler, Admiral Canaris, nor any other member of the High Command becomes aware of your mission. And finally, the mission must be carried out on the tenth of May-the glorious anniversary of our historic westward invasion!"

Heydrich blanched. The Fuhrer had just placed restrictions on the operation that would make success all but impossible. Even if a bolt of lightning were to strike down Churchill and the king in Trafalgar Square, accusing fingers would still point to Germany. Yet despite this grim truth, Heydrich elected to keep silent. He had seen what happened to men who protested to Adolf Hitler that his orders were impossible.

"Am I to understand, my Fuhrer, that I am to assassinate these men?"

Hitler exploded. "Were you not listening? The thought of making Winston Churchill a martyr turns my stomach, but alive he hounds me like the devil incarnate. I want him dead! The king too!"

Heydrich's mind reeled at the implications of this order. If what the Fuhrer said about Nazi sympathizers in England was true, the plan could actually work. But what were the odds of that? The terror bombin of London and other population centers had hardened Britain's will to adamant; the reports of all his agents confirmed this. Could there really still be Englishmen who feared Stalin more than they feared Hitler? Men to whom profits meant more than national honor?

Men to whom a guarantee of safety from Adolf Mtler was worth more than a pr-e-war Deutschemark?

"Do not think I labor under any illusions," Hitler said, almost telepathically. "The English have no love for me, or for things German.

But they understand me, Heydrich. I represent absolute power concentrated in the head of the state, and the English respect that.

Their industlialists and nobles fear Stalin and his hordes far more than my policies.

Communism-power seized by millions of fanatical workers who cannot wait to tear down the ivied walls of traditionthat is like the plague to the English, the Black Death come again!"

A sharp knock on the bedroom door halted Hitler in midstream.

Martin Bormann opened the door and stood there stubbornly, ignoring Heydrich. "You asked me to inform you when the generals finished their dinner, my Fuhrer."

"So I did, Bormann, thank you. Dismissed."

Bormann reluctantly closed the door. Hitler folded his arms and peered closely at Heydrich. "Do you foresee difficulties, Herr Obergruppenftihrer?"

"None, my Fuhrer," Heydrich replied automatically.

Hitler raised his chin and smiled. "That is why I selected you for this mission. The word impossible is one you never learned. If my generals had the same attitude, we would be in Moscow by now."

Heydrich inclined his head briefly.

"I am going you give you a name, Heydrich. You will never repeat it.

You will never write it down. This is t e Englishman you may contact if there is vital information you cannot obtain by any other means.

Churchill's likely. whereabouts, such matters as that. His name is Robert Stanton@' "Lord Granville?" Heydrich ejaculated. He reddened.

"I apologize for the interruption, my Fuhrer, but "But he is the last man you would have guessed to betray his king?" Hitler smiled wickedly.

"That is good. Just remember, you will never use his name@nly his code name.

Lord Granville is Mordred."

While Heydrich's brain raced, Hitler said, "I'll go downstairs first.

You follow in a few minutes. I don't want MY generals to know of our meeting. On the eleventh of May I shall present them with afait accompli, just as I did with my 1939 pact with Stalin. That should stiffen their resolve when they cross into Russia!"

,It should indeed, my Fuhrer!"

"The operation must take place on t'he tenth of May, Heydrich.

Other wheels are already in motion. When your plan is ready, call Bormann and say the word Mordred-He'll set up another meeting."

Hitler reached for the door handle, then paused. "By the way, about those files you have compiled on potential traitors. is Hess among them?"

Heydrich nodded solemnly.

"Burn his file."

"The moment I return to Berlin, my Fuhrer-" Hitler saluted smartly.

"Guten Abend, Herr Obergruppenfiihrer." the closing door.

In Heydrich's "Heil Hitler!" died against spite of his pounding heart, he resumed his cross-legged position on the edge of the bed. He sat absolfately still, and before five minutes passed, his throbbing pulse had returned to a point of equilibrium that most men of eighteen would be hard put to equal at rest. He stood deliberately, passed a slim hand over his blond hair, and walked into the hallHalfway down the stairs, he heard a ftirtive noise behind him. Eva Braun again? Bener to let it pass, he thought. But he could not. His predatory instincts were too strong. With the stealth of a leopard, Heydrich turned and crept back up the stairs.

He arrived on the second floor just in time to see the round-shouldered back of Martin Bormann disappear into the bedroom opposite the one Eva Braun had leaned out of.

Heydrich heard the shallow tinkle of girlish laughter, and as the door closed he glimpsed a swatch of unclad flesh. For a moment he stood still. Then, @most as if pulled against his will, he moved up close against the door.

He heard the laughter again, like cheap crystal. First teasing, then hysterical, it had a lilt of drunkenness in it. Then a sharp cry of pain pierced the door. Dry-throated, Heydrich tried to swallow. He heard another cry. Then a deeper, animal sound began to punctuate the brittle protests of the woman. Heydrich felt his organ move, then stiffen. A nerve tic intermittently closed his left eye. Grinding his teeth, he blocked out the primitive sounds until the spasm ceased.

The grunts grew regular. Heydrich no longer heard the woman.

Beads of sweat formed on his brow. He opened and closed his right fist in synchrony with the groans coming from behind the door. The next sound he heard started the tic again. Only slaps at first-almost playful, echoing lightlybut the deadened thump of solid blows soon followed.

Heydrich knew that sound as well as any man on earth. Like an arrhythmic heartbeat it drove him through each hour, each new day of conquest.

The woman was protesting again, but her cries were muffled. A pillow, Heydrich thought distantly. Conflicting emotions struggled for control of his taut body. Anger, revulsion arousal. He longed to smash open the door, but whether t@ flay Bormann in disgust or to plunder his share of the woman, he did not know.

He did neither. He simply stood facing the door, his body rigid as a steel beam, his brow pouring sweat, and listened.

Coupled with his earlier proximity to the Fuhrer, the stress of this violently erotic encounter pushed him into a kind of trance. The sound of the blows deepened, the cries grew closer together, and Heydrich, with Adolf Hitler's voice still echoing in his ears, waited for the orgasmic groan that would resolve it all.

It never came.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Two Months Later Reinhard Heydrich felt like a god. Seventy days ago, when he first heard Hitler impose his operational restrictions on Plan mordred, Heydrich thought his meteoric rise through the Nazi rarc assas mate hie by had been stopped dead-To find a way to s not only Winston Churchill but also King George VI, to do it on a specific day, and without leaving a smoking gun in German hands? Ridiculous! Yet e@en before he landed his Fieseler-Storch back at Berlin-Staaken Airport on that frozen January night, the essential elements Of the plan had flashed into his mind as if by divine inspiration. The concept was so ingeniously simple that, if brought off successfully, not only would Britain be neu with little more than sporadic small-arms rue, but she would become Germany's strongest ally!

It had taken the Obergruppenfiihrer SD a further sixty-eight days to determine whether his unprecedented plan could actually be put into operation. Sixty-eight nerveracking days of frantic intelligence work carried out under the lidless gaze of Heinrich Himmler: a dozen trips taken under false pretenses; a hundred agents lied to about the reason for the questions he had asked them; a thousand scraps of information gathered from around the globe and funneled through the sieve of the SS/SD intelligence complex, each tiny piece sucked out of the system without the knowledge of the ruthless little tyrant who controlled it.

Now, driving back to Obersalzburg beneath a cold, starlit sky, Heydrich knew that he was ready. The leather briefcase on the seat beside him contained his ticket to the most exclusive club in the world. Two months ago he had been a mere subaltern-a loyal centurion charged by his Caesar with nailing millions of Jews to the Iron Cross of the Reich.

But now-now the centurion had glimpsed the keys to the palace!

Behind Heydrich's glacier-blue eyes, a seething blast furnace of all-consuming desire firrd his brain. Only one man alive possessed the kind of power he craved, and Heydrich was on his way to see that man now. With him he carried the plan that would prove his worthiness to Hitler beyond doubt, and one day@ne day very soon-the mantle of dictatorship would pass to him!

Passing through the Obersalzburg gates, he noted the almost casual attitude of the SS guards. Desultory fighting on all fronts was taking its toll in efficiency throughout the Reich. What everyone needs is another good blitzkrieg to wake them up, he thought. And they'll get one soon enough.

He reminded himself to give the laggards a good dressing down on his way out.

He parked in the garage beneath the Berghof's enormous picture window and walked around to the front of the house.

A sergeant of the SS Liebstandarte Adolf Hitler barred the door.

Before Heydrich's boot even touched the first step, the guard instructed him to turn around. When he did, he saw the last thing he expected: Adolf Hitler, outfitted in a dark suit, homburg hat, and carrying a walking stick, stood silent in the snow, watching him. Arc lights silhouetted, Hitler's harlequin figure. For a moment Heydrich felt as if he were watching a newsreel in a darkened theater. Then the FUhrer-for all the world like Charlie Chaplin's caricature of him-turned and bobbed off across the snow.

"The teahouse," whispered the SS sergeant.

Heydrich caught up with Hitler forty meters from the Berghof, walking briskly along a deep path cleared through the snow. There was just room for two to walk abreast.

Heydrich fell in beside Hitler and waited for a cue to begin his report, but Hitler walked in silence.'Heydrich heard dogs barking in the distance-the Fuhrer's German shepherds, he guessed-but when Hitler stopped and called them, they did not come. Unable to restrain himself any longer, Heydrich took a deep breath and announced: "I have finished my report, my Fuhrer."