“Is that confirmed, then?” Truman asked quickly.

  “Mr. President, it is almost open and shut. Army CID had been wondering what a Soviet national was doing wandering around the island. They observed him passing directives to an Army captain, who was the one who set up the bomb. Both are in custody. The Army Captain’s parents are long-standing Soviet agents, so I guess he imbibed it in his mother’s milk.”

  “So, we can assume the parents are under arrest, as well?”

  “Oh, yes. Somebody in the Army is talking to Edgar. The FBI was quick off the mark and got the parents in custody.”

  “Is the Army Counterintelligence Division talking to you?”

  Donovan smiled. “I have somebody in the CID who talks to me.”

  “Isn’t it your job to be the coordinator of information?” Truman asked sharply.

  “Yes, Mr. President, it is. President Roosevelt arranged things so that all of the military intelligence organs hate me. And, let’s not talk about the FBI.”

  “Tell me about Europe.”

  Truman’s changes to the subject tended to throw Donovan off balance.

  “After the Soviets took Berlin, Rommel swung the force around behind the red Army and cut off their supply lines. He may very well have them trapped.”

  “Some good news for Herr Schloss, then.”

  “And, he needed some. The Brits are reopening their production lines for the 500-pound bombs so that they can supply the Luftwaffe. The word from London is that they do not want to get into a war with Stalin. But the Queen is so angry with him that she is going to do everything short of war to support the Germans.”

  “I have instructed both State and the Pentagon not to make promises to Schloss. With the mess we have out West, there is no way we can back that up. I wish we hadn’t committed to buying 50 new build U-boats from them.”

  “I understand Ribbentrop is talking to the Brazilians and the Argentines about buying the U-boats. And I think he’s had people in Cape Town sounding out the water, there.”

  Truman squeezed his hands together as he sat across from the OSS director. “I don’t want to cut the ground from under Schloss. Despite the history of the Nazis, he has been an honorable business partner. And, the way Stalin has been fishing in troubled waters, we will probably need those U-boats in the Pacific.”

  Donovan nodded. “And since Schloss encouraged the Judaeans to pull our chestnuts out of the fire in Kabul, I think we need to do everything reasonable to encourage him. The British largely feel the same way, sir.”

  “Is Harriman back in town?”

  “I think he got in last night.”

  “I need to get him in here to tell me about the Kabul meeting.”

  Truman scribbled a note on the pad next to him.

  “Admiral Leahy insists that your people constantly meddle in his sandbox,” Truman said suddenly.

  Another change of subject, Donovan thought. Now is the time to pay attention.

  “It is my job to bring a non-parochial analysis of gathered intelligence to you, Mr. President. As you may know, every branch of the military is very good at dragging its feet to avoid reporting things it doesn’t want you to know, no matter who orders it. I think we are doing an excellent job of delivering this information to you. I am not necessarily proud of the extent to which I have to burglarize military intelligence to get it for you.”

  Truman stared at him for a while. “And then there’s the FBI.”

  Donovan laughed. Fortunately, there is little I need from the FBI. Edgar views the OSS as an existential threat to his organization.”

  “Is it?”

  “No, Sir, it is not,” Donovan snorted. “Edgar has turned a group of bumbling, corrupt amateurs into a professional, honest law enforcement organization. He is also the most adept power player in Washington. I am not afraid of him; however, I always assess the costs before crossing swords with him. I assume you’re going somewhere with this, Mr. President?”

  Truman pondered the question for a while as he rolled his tongue around in his cheek. He looked up again at Donovan. “Since the war is winding down, the joint Chiefs are strongly urging me to disband the OSS. They say it is unnecessary.”

  “And what do you think, Mr. President?”

  “I would say the jury is still out.”

  Donovan thought for a few moments and then shrugged. “How many of the government departments are truly necessary?”

  Truman laughed and stood up. “That’s giving up back in spades, Mr. Director. I was being candid when I said the jury was still out.”

  Donovan stood. “I say this, and I mean it as a compliment, Mr. President. You don’t play people off against one another as Roosevelt did. To quote our Lord, you are a man in whom there is no guile.”

  Truman laughed again. “And you are a scoundrel. Now, get out of here so I can get some work done.”

  “Thank you for your time, Mr. President.”

  “My door is always open to you, Bill.”

  William Donovan marched down the hallway of the White House and wondered what President Harry Truman was really thinking.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  March 13, 1944

  Nazi Party Headquarters

  Frankfurt, Germany

  At least this meeting room was less oppressive than the one in the Reich Chancellery in Berlin, Schloss thought. It was not built to heroic scale, with the floor-to-ceiling windows and heavy draperies. It was a typical room like that used by businesses around the country. It did not make Schloss’s job any easier, but it was at least more comfortable.

  Along with Schloss, in the room were Willem Kirche, Peter Schreiber, Karl Rainer, Joachim von Ribbentrop, Colonel Reinhard Galen, and Field Marshal Gerd von Rundstedt. It was the first time the government had met since fleeing Berlin, and there was a lot to cover. Unfortunately, Schloss thought, everyone in the room had as much or more to do back in their offices. But they needed to meet.

  “It’s good to see you all alive and well,” Schloss opened the meeting.

  “That’s a relative term,” Peter replied. “Some of us are lucky to be here at all.”

  Schloss opted to ignore Peter’s oblique slam and continued with his opening statement.

  “From the limited observations I have been able to make, it appears each of you has pulled their departments together well. I commend you all for your hard work. Thank you.

  “I was surprised at how smoothly things went,” Ribbentrop commented. “Once people found their offices, they got to work.”

  “And there was not a lot of infighting with the people here who lost their offices,” Schreiber stated. “I have been able to focus on my work.”

  “The SS is somewhat less organized,” Rainer said. “But we are getting there.”

  “Any particular problems?” Schloss asked.

  “No. But the people in the Frankfurt SS operation weren’t expecting to have us descend upon them, out of heaven, so to speak.”

  Schloss saw Rainer’s one-sided grin and laughed. “Okay, I assume you are getting your arms around it.”

  “One way or the other.”

  “Now, Willem, what is the first agenda item?”

  “Herr Reich Chancellor, the Reichsmarshall will present a summary of the current state of the war.”

  “Thank you. Gerd, will you proceed?”

  Von Rundstedt cleared his throat. “Herr Reich Chancellor, meine Herren, I believe we have reason to be encouraged. As you know, General Rommel was able to punch through to the Oder River and block the Russian supply lines and their avenue for retreat. General Schörner is advancing from Prague to Breslau and has met with only limited resistance. Our reconnaissance flights show the Russians are scrambling to send reinforcements. The late winter storm that allowed Smirnoff to kick-off the offensive also greatly impedes Russian traffic from the East.”

  “The situation is still unstable, however. We burned through most of our reserves when Smirnoff staged his breakout. We desire to force Smirnoff’s surrender before the Russians can mount a strong enough force to break through Rommel’s lines along the Oder.”

  “I worry that Rommel will get trapped between the two Russian armies because of his position,” Schloss said.

  “That is a genuine risk,” the Reichsmarshall replied. “Keep in mind, though, that in choosing a static defense, Smirnoff threw away much of the Russian advantage. Conversely, the mobile warfare that Rommel is practicing is something the Wehrmacht does best. Forcing Smirnoff to surrender will even things up between us to a great extent.”

  “Only until Stalin builds another Army,” Rainer commented.

  Von Rundstedt nodded. “That is correct. We have negated much of the Russian advantage in men and matériel by being smarter, and this demands continued shrewdness.”

  Peter raised a finger, and von Rundstedt recognized him.

  “Do you see a way clear for us to win this war?”

  “The spring is approaching, and there will be several weeks when nothing moves because of the mud. Since the Russians advanced so quickly, they did little damage to the rail network between Berlin and Frankfurt am Oder. We have tracks that bypass Berlin, and we propose reinforcing Rommel as quickly and strongly as possible. The Luftwaffe is prepared to respond quickly and decisively to any Russian attack out of Berlin or Slubice.”

  “In my opinion,” the Reichsmarshall continued, “if we can ride out any counterattack and force Smirnoff’s surrender, we will be in a position to begin advancing across Poland again. Assuming everything goes accordingly, we would meet Schörner in Poznan.”

  “But there is still a lot that could go wrong,” Ribbentrop said.

  “Oh, that is correct,” von Rundstedt replied. “But as the Reich Chancellor has often said, you can’t have tactics without a strategy. So, step one of the strategy is to recover Berlin. Step two is to enclose a pocket in Silesia between Dammvorstadt, Poznan, and Breslau. The goal for right now is to destroy Russian forces. Recovering territory is a secondary objective.”

  “I still can’t believe you managed to cut off the Russians like that,” Peter stated.

  “Colonel von Stauffenberg was bringing four divisions out of Leipzig to reinforce Berlin. Obviously, he did not get there in time,” von Rundstedt said with a slight wink. “Rommel used that to augment his strike force and swung around to Frankfurt. It was a rare opportunity, and Rommel moved quickly.”

  “Would I be correct in saying that the single action changed the face of the war?” Rainer asked.

  “I would be cautious in overstating such a thing, but that would be my conclusion.”

  Schloss nodded. “Very well. Thank you for that presentation, Herr Reichsmarshall. Are there any other questions on this item?”

  Schloss looked around the table as no one spoke further. “Very well, Willem; what is the next item on the agenda?”

  “The Reichsprotektor is next.”

  Schloss nodded to Rainer. “I see you managed to lose the bandage, Karl. How is your head?”

  “The headache has receded somewhat. As the old saying goes, the shades are up, the lights are on, and I am open for business.”

  The other men around the table chuckled, and Schloss smiled.

  “I had an informal communication from Colin Marty, who, as you may know, is the Queen’s private secretary in England. He has suggested that there may be several dozen pilots who would volunteer to join the Luftwaffe and fly missions for us.”

  Schloss rocked back in his chair. “I didn’t see that coming. Sort of like the Condor Legion in Spain.”

  “That is exactly what it is like. But it will be even less official. There will be no formal communication between the Luftwaffe and the Royal Air Force. We will have a group of men get off the boat in Hamburg and visit the Luftwaffe recruiting station. They will fly some of the mosquito light bombers the English have loaned us.”

  Schloss looked at von Rundstedt. “And what would the Luftwaffe think of this?”

  The Reichsmarshall smiled broadly. “As you know, we have been faced with a pilot shortage of late. We have not experienced heavy combat losses, but the growth of the service has strained our ability to train new pilots. I am personally overjoyed.”

  “Do we have a Luftwaffe recruiting office in Hamburg?” Peter asked.

  Von Rundstedt laughed. “If not, I can have one open by tomorrow.”

  Schloss nodded. “Karl, let’s consider this approved.”

  “A question?” Ribbentrop said.

  “Go ahead, Joachim.”

  “Does this mean the Queen is getting ready to enter the war on our side?”

  “No,” Schloss shook his head. “What this means is that the English are going to do everything short of war to support us. The Russians greatly angered the English and the Americans with their recent activities, and it’s clear they were behind the kidnapping in Kabul. Considering their actions here in Frankfurt and Honolulu, they are in love with planting bombs. We face a dangerous foe, meine Herren, but I am convinced we can beat them.”

  § § §

  March 13, 1944

  Reich Chancellor’s Office

  Occupied Berlin

  Nikita Khrushchev sat in Heinrich Schloss’s office with his boots on the desktop. The offices in the Reich Chancellery had been ransacked, and the floors were littered with paper and other debris. The man uncapped a steel flask and took a healthy swig of vodka as he looked across the desk at General Ivan Smirnoff.

  “You don’t look happy, Comrade General. We have won a great victory for the Rhodina, and we will go down in history.”

  “Comrade Secretary, unless the red Army can breakthrough at the Oder River, we will likely have to surrender.”

  “I have every confidence our comrades to the east will come through for us,” Khrushchev proclaimed. “After all, we broke through once. It can be done again. Certainly, you can plan to support the breakthrough from here, correct?”

  “Comrade Secretary, we used up most of our ammunition driving through to Berlin. I believe we can hold the city, but we cannot engage in any sustained operations.”

  The bald party secretary laughed. “You worry too much, Ivan. I admit I was worried about whether you would succeed in the breakthrough, but you have amply rewarded my hopes. You have proven time and again your skill at outmaneuvering the Germans and bringing victory to the Soviet Union. I am certain you will figure out a way around this current challenge.”

  Smirnoff shook his head. “You do not understand, Comrade Party Secretary. We are trapped here. We are almost out of ammunition and have very little in the way of food. We do not have a lot of time, and there is still heavy snow in the East.”

  Khrushchev swung his legs off the desk and sat up straight. He leaned forward and glared at the general.

  “What are you trying to tell me, Comrade General?”

  “You have not been listening to me, Comrade Secretary. If we are not able to reestablish our supply lines in 30 days, there will be no food.”

  “There are grocers and warehouses in the city. You should be able to find enough food to last six months, easy. You are beginning to sound defeatist, Ivan.”

  “The first thing I did upon securing the city was to send the quartermasters around to collect foodstuffs. Without it, we would have lasted maybe two weeks at best. I can give you 30 days, Comrade.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “It is as I have told you. We are in real trouble.”

  Khrushchev studied the general for a while. Finally, he spoke. “I suppose I should get on the radio and instill a sense of urgency into the Red Army.”

  Smirnoff nodded. “That would not hurt, Comrade. We have 250,000 men here in the city, and they will soon grow hungry.”

  “Very well,” Khrushchev said softly. “Make preparations to conserve what little we have. And start planning for a miracle, for I honestly don’t believe we will see one from the east.”

  “I thought you just told me they could break through again since they had already done it once.”

  “That was us, Comrade,” Khrushchev said, tapping his index finger on the desk.

  “And you accomplished miracles with your management of logistics.”

  “And I am not there to manage it. The people working for me are incompetent, Comrade General. It worked because I paid attention to every detail. So, yes, I am now listening to you. But you must listen to me. What we have right now in food and ammunition is what we will have unless that miracle occurs.”

  The brief glimpse of honesty from Khrushchev shook Smirnoff. The man was a good leader, but he tended to hide behind his vodka and his bluster. If the situation was retrievable at all, it would be up to Smirnoff to find a way out of the sack they were caught in.

  “If you will excuse me, then, Comrade Secretary. I need to go look for that miracle.”

  After Smirnoff marched out of the room, Khrushchev stood and walked over to the window. He looked down at the street and observed the Soviet soldiers guarding the building. The stocky, bald man had accomplished the goals of a lifetime by marching into Berlin. And now he watched it turn to ash. If he somehow managed to make it back to Moscow, Stalin would likely shoot him. The alternative was to enter captivity under the Germans. He wondered if that might not be a bad thing.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  March 15, 1944; 8 PM

  Reich Chancellor’s Residence

  Nordend-Ost

  Frankfurt, Germany

  The house Willem procured for the Schloss family was old and not in good repair. Schloss missed his Steibel-Eltron water heater from the Berlin house. And, of course, he had all the hot water he could use at the Reich Chancellor’s Apartments in the Reich Chancellery. If he wanted to shower, he had to grit his teeth and suffer the cold water pouring over him. Baths involved heating basins of water to carry to the bathroom, and the tepid result in the bathtub was not very satisfactory.

  The Reich Chancellor reminded himself not to complain. He had a place to live in a very constrained housing market. His wife and children had successfully evacuated to Frankfurt. And he and Rainer survived a harrowing escape from under the Soviet artillery barrage. Since they were sharing a house with Peter and Gratia, Schloss was again living under the ministrations of Frau Marsden.