“Captain Brown will see you now, sir.”

  Carper stood up and looked around in confusion. He did not see a door with the captain’s name on it.

  The chief pointed to the admiral’s door. “In there, sir.”

  “Thank you, Chief.”

  Carper thought it strange that Chief Mayfield was the only person in the office he recognized. He walked over to the admiral’s door and knocked twice before opening it. He walked in to face Captain John Brown, USN.

  “Well, bless my soul if it isn’t Full-Auto Al. I am so glad to see you I could kiss you if I wouldn’t get keel-hauled for it.”

  “I would settle for a handshake, Sir,” Carper said dryly. “What’s going on, anyway, Sir? Things seem a little weird. Where is Admiral English?”

  Brown winced and shook his head. “The admiral and his staff were returning from Diego on a C-54 two days ago. They ran into a storm, and we lost contact with them. We’ve had Catalinas out searching for wreckage and found nothing. At this point, we presume the aircraft was lost with all hands.”

  “May I sit down, Captain?” That is not something I expected to hear.”

  “I’m sorry, Commander. I’m still a little rattled myself. Please, sit down. Have you had breakfast?”

  “No, Sir. I came directly from the boat when we docked.”

  “Chief!” Brown shouted. “Rustle up some breakfast for the commander and me. We can eat in the meeting room next door.”

  “Aye, aye, Captain,” Chief Mayfield responded.

  “I’ve been here all night, commander, and I’m starting to run out of steam. If God is gracious, I may be able to put my head down tonight.”

  “How did you get tapped to hold the fort, Captain?” Carper asked.

  “For my sins, I am acting COMSUBPAC until Charlie Lockwood gets here to take over.”

  “Good heavens,” Carper exclaimed. “So with the admiral and his staff gone, that means you are it?”

  “You got it, Al.”

  “If it needs to be said, Captain, I am at your complete disposal.”

  “Thanks, Al. Knowing you, I would expect nothing less, but it’s greatly appreciated. Let me ask you this, how good is your exec?”

  “As I’ve had time to work with him, I have discovered Tom Ferrier is a great exec. He seems to read my mind. I have no worries about him taking care of the boat while I’m gone.”

  “What I was asking is whether he is capable of commanding the Hamburg?”

  Carper stopped for a minute and thought. “He doesn’t have any combat experience, but he knows the drill. Shadowing that Jap convoy, he performed well. Is it time for me to move on?”

  Brown chuckled. “I have never thought you were sucker bait, Al, but you walked into that one. And I see the suspicious look on your face. Charlie Lockwood specifically asked for you to join his staff. And I need you here right now.”

  “As I said, Captain, whatever you need.”

  “Good! The chief has already cut orders for Ferrier to take command of the Hamburg. And the paperwork transferring you to COMSUBPAC staff should be ready as well. And, oh, by the way, you are now frocked as a captain as of this moment. It’ll take a couple of weeks for the paperwork out of Washington to catch up with you. Congratulations.”

  “Thank you, sir. It’ll take me a couple of hours to clear out of the Hamburg and get a room in the BOQ.”

  “When I said I needed you, Al, I meant right now. The chief will send somebody over to the boat with the orders, and he’ll make sure everything gets packed up for you and delivered to a room. You probably won’t see much of it for a while, anyway.”

  “Very well, Captain. What do you want me to do?”

  “Your job is going to be developing new submarine doctrine. You are the best sub driver we’ve got. But, we can talk about that later. Meanwhile, I need you to help me to get this office straightened out. Bob English took his whole staff with him to Diego and left no one minding the store. It is the most incredible goat screw you ever did see.”

  “That seems a little out of character for the admiral,” Carper commented.

  “Out of school, Al, the admiral was shaky in his management of the place. Nimitz was getting ready to drop a brick on his head anyway. He told me, and now I’m telling you, we need to start cleaning up the mess so that Admiral Lockwood has some semblance of a functioning organization. Thank God the war is over.”

  “I don’t know what to say, sir.”

  “How about Aye, aye, sir?”

  Carper grinned. “Aye, aye, sir.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  April 5, 1944; 4 PM

  Reich Chancellery

  Occupied Berlin, Germany

  Once again, Smirnoff and Khrushchev sat in the Reich Chancellor’s office staring at one another. The Germans had responded to his request to open negotiations to surrender. The General’s Chief of Staff and intelligence officer had met with the Germans and had developed a plan for a smooth transfer of the city back to the Germans. All that remained was to make the final decision to surrender.

  “So, are you going to do this, Comrade General?” Khrushchev asked.

  Smirnoff glared at the stocky, bald party secretary and then responded, “I believe the decision consists of what we are going to do, Comrade Party Secretary.”

  “Excuse me. I was not intentionally trying to push all the responsibility on you, Comrade General.”

  “Of course not.” The sarcasm in his voice was subtle but unmistakable. “Very well, here is what we are going to do. First of all, we are going to arrest all of the political officers and lock them up. The Germans have agreed to hold them separately from the rest of the prisoners.”

  “But that is not in the surrender agreement.”

  Smirnoff smiled grimly. “Since you have consistently implied in your own political way that the responsibility of the surrender is mine, I accept that responsibility. There are several things in the surrender agreement that you have not seen.”

  Khrushchev was now visibly nervous. “What do you plan to do with me?”

  “Ahhh, It’s good to come to the point directly. For you to survive; for all of us to survive, you will do as I instruct you. Otherwise, I will have you shot for attempting to scuttle the surrender order. Do we have an understanding, Comrade Khrushchev?”

  “Da. I will do whatever you tell me to do.”

  “I am concerned that you answered so quickly,” Smirnoff commented.

  “I have seen this coming for a long time, Comrade General. I won’t deny that there is an element of self-preservation in my response. All of our choices are strictly limited at this point, and I recognize that.”

  “Very well. I will accept that. Here’s what we’re going to do. Once we have the political officers out of the picture, you and I will begin planning our activities post surrender. I’m sure you noticed, and if you hadn’t arranged it for your purposes, we have a large percentage of Ukrainians in this field army. We will negotiate with the Germans to allow us to set up a Ukrainian government in exile with you as the leader. When the opportunity presents itself, we will move into Ukraine and set up an independent state.”

  “Your thinking is similar to mine,” Khrushchev said.

  “I have recognized that for a while. The methodology will be different, however. I suspect you were planning to work through the Ukrainian Communist Party to make this happen. I don’t believe that would be successful. My plan uses the Army to enforce it. That will give you a free hand to purge the party in Ukraine.”

  Khrushchev looked thoughtful. “That could work. I think we should keep the party organization in place, though.”

  “I understand and agree. But, as the saying goes, we need to separate the sheep from the goats.”

  “This is going to take some work, Comrade General.”

  “The key here is not to fall in love with our plans. We need to be able to adapt to the changing situation on the fly.”

  “We cannot go into Ukraine right now. Our supply situation has not changed. Stalin would roll right over us.”

  Smirnoff gave the other man an evil smile. “That’s where we use the Germans. They will fight their way through Ukraine for us, and also equip our army. We should then be in a position to set up a government.”

  “Do you honestly think the Germans will do that?”

  Smirnoff took a deep breath. “Schloss and the German high command have got to be thinking about how they will defeat Stalin and what will follow. We know that Schloss is no fool. Splitting off some of the Soviet states is an obvious option. If Ukraine goes, then Belarussia and the Baltics will very likely follow. There would not be a thing Stalin could do about it.”

  “You understand, of course,” Khrushchev said, crossing his arms across his chest, “Stalin would never stop trying to get revenge. He is nothing if not vindictive.”

  “That is something to consider, Comrade Party Secretary.”

  “I have concluded that something would have to be done about Stalin.”

  Smirnoff sat very still and studied Khrushchev as he thought about what the other man had just told him. “Kruglov?”

  “I have surmised that. He plays his cards very close to his vest. Based on his actions and the conversations we had, I have wondered if he has that in mind.”

  “Would he be able to pull that off?”

  Khrushchev shrugged. “You know how challenging it is simply to survive in the Soviet Union. But Kruglov definitely landed on his feet after Beria’s death.”

  “Do you think he had something to do with Beria’s death?”

  Khrushchev shrugged again. “At this point, who knows?”

  “And we are wasting time. Let’s get the surrender initiated. I would like to have a cease-fire at midnight that will give us all day tomorrow to sort things out.”

  Khrushchev stood up. “Then, let’s get started.”

  “There is one more thing,” Smirnoff said. “Major!”

  A Red Army major stepped into the room along with two sergeants.

  “Place the party secretary under arrest, but see that he is well treated and comfortable.”

  “What is the meaning of this?”

  “Comrade Party Secretary, you are critical to this plan. But I don’t entirely trust you. I want to keep everyone honest.”

  After the guards led Khrushchev from the room, Colonels Kuzmin and Belyaev entered.

  “Very well, comrades,” Smirnoff stated. “We have a plan. Do you have any questions?”

  They both shook their heads.

  “Very well. Please request a cease-fire as of midnight from the Germans and inform them that we will accept their conditions. I want to wrap this up tomorrow.”

  The two colonels saluted and marched from the room. Smirnoff watched them leave, then walked over to the window and looked at nothing. Finally, he sat down again in the uncomfortable chair and stared at the paperwork before him. Either way, he was probably dead. But this seemed to offer a slim chance of survival. Assuming everything else worked out, he needed to begin thinking about the strategy and tactics for gaining control of Ukraine.

  § § §

  April 6, 1944; 9 AM

  The Queen’s Study

  Buckingham Palace

  London, England, UK

  “I have received some information that I think you need to know about,” Colin Marty said.

  “You have been working up to this for a while, haven’t you, Mr. Marty?”

  Colin felt like a bug pinned to a sheet of cardboard while the Queen studied him through a magnifying glass. She seemed to read him all too well. He had been wrestling with the information Donald Graeme relayed to him. There was no question Margaret needed to know about it. But he was worried she would come unglued and cause him to burn his sources in the Foreign Office.

  “Come now. You have worked for me long enough to know my probable reaction in any given circumstance.”

  “That is what concerns me, your Majesty.”

  Her single sharp bark of laughter told him what she thought of his reticence, and it wasn’t humor.

  “I received some disquieting information from an unnamed source. A representative of MI5 visited Churchill and informed him that they had closed the investigation into the Wallace assassination.”

  “Five have not informed me that they had completed the investigation,” Margaret said quietly.

  “I was aware of that, Ma’am, and I was trying to confirm the information by other means. I was unsuccessful in that, however.”

  The Queen said nothing but sat in her chair and silently pondered this information. Then Colin heard her pencil snap. When the monarch was angry, she would tend to yell and swear a lot. That she was quiet and doing things like breaking her pencils caused Marty to get nervous. It meant she was really angry. He felt sweat break out under his collar.

  “How long have you known about this, Colin?”

  “About a week.”

  “About a week,” she repeated. “when, precisely, did you hear this?”

  “Last Tuesday.”

  “I am unhappy that you waited this long, Colin. You should have come directly to me.”

  “Your Majesty, if I brought every unsubstantiated rumor to you, you would get nothing done. And you would probably die from high blood pressure.”

  “That’s enough, Mr. Marty.”

  He looked at her carefully. The temperature of her glare indicated that she had gone well beyond the boiling point. Her mouth quirked slightly. Okay, she was not angry with him. Or, not really angry with him.

  “I am not going to be so foolish as to demand that you reveal your source. Tell me, though, how reliable is it?”

  “It is someone I have known for a long time. He hears things, and somehow is always right. I would normally have accepted it without question. But this is rather sensitive.”

  “Indeed.”

  The Queen sat quietly as she considered what he had told her. She looked down at the broken pencil in her hand and carefully disposed of it in the wastebasket. Drawing a fresh pencil from the drawer of her writing-table, she began tapping the eraser on her desktop.

  “In your opinion, do you believe this information came from within Five?”

  Now Colin thought for a while. “There are two possibilities, Ma’am. Randolph Churchill sat in on the meeting between Five and his father. It is entirely possible that he said something while he was in his cups. Alternatively, someone in Five is unhappy with how the Director is managing it..”

  “And what is your sense of what happened?”

  “If Randolph were speaking too freely, it would have shown up in the press. So I think it would’ve had to come from inside Five.”

  “Fleet Street would have likely gone to Five before publishing,” the queen mused. “They are still careful about the Official Secrets Act.”

  “On the other hand,” Marty suggested, “Randolph has little credibility. This information came from someone who is quietly a strong supporter of the Crown, and it would have been passed to help you, Your Majesty. This came from someone who would carefully consider the reliability of the information before sending it on to us.”

  “Point taken.” Margaret drummed her fingers on the top of the writing-table. “Very well. I must think on this. I believe I shall have to talk to Clement.”

  “That would have been my thought,” Marty murmured.

  “And damn you, Colin, you must tell me these things sooner! Much sooner.”

  “Of course, Your Majesty.”

  “Now, get out of my office.”

  Colin Marty almost scampered out of the Queen’s office. He considered himself fortunate to have received a scalding as opposed to catching the brunt of a flamethrower.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  April 10, 1944; 9 AM

  Glienicke Palace

  Potsdam, Germany

  Glienicke Palace was somewhat overrated, Schloss thought. It had originally been constructed as a summer cottage for one of the Prussian princes and upgraded since. It lacked the grandeur of the Stadtschloss or Sanssouci, but upon reflection, it seemed better suited to Schloss’s style.

  He had risen early for his Condor flight from Frankfurt to Potsdam. The Russian investiture of Berlin had stopped short of the ancient capital of Brandenburg. And Rainer would not allow Schloss to set foot in Berlin until it was deemed safe.

  Flying in personally to take this meeting ran counter to Schloss’s usual practice of delegating as much as possible. However, the surrender of the Russian armies in Berlin along with the presence of General Smirnoff, and particularly Party Secretary Khrushchev, drove the need. Given his plans for the subsequent conduct of the war, Schloss wanted to be here.

  The Party Security people ushered him into one of the reception rooms that had been quickly fitted out as a sitting room, especially for this meeting. Smirnoff and Khrushchev quickly rose to their feet when he walked in. He thought it was interesting that while Smirnoff looked nervous, Khrushchev was unreadable. The man had a reputation as a survivor, and it seemed he knew how to play the game.

  The presence of two interpreters complicated the meeting. Schloss did not speak Russian, and the other two did not speak German or English. Schloss hoped that everyone would be able to understand the nuance.

  “Thank you for agreeing to see me this morning, meine Herren,” Schloss began. “I regret placing you under these circumstances. Your army fought valiantly and well.”

  “We are honored by your presence, Herr Reich Chancellor,” Smirnoff replied. I very much regret the circumstances, but I am pleased there was no further loss of life.”

  “Shall we be seated then?”

  The group returned to the facing sofas, which were, for a change, surprisingly comfortable. Smirnoff and Khrushchev looked expectantly at Schloss, and for the first time, Smirnoff spotted uncertainty in the party secretary’s eyes.

  “Rather than leaving you in internment with the rest of your officers, I wanted to discuss some ideas I had for getting this war ended.”

  “You will recognize, of course,” Khrushchev responded, “that due to our surrender, I no longer have any leverage at all with Comrade Stalin.”