Glenn Meade (54 page)

Canaris sat there for a time,
mulling it all over. 'No doubt she never cared a whit for Haider. It was all a
charade.'

'She's a splendid actress, of
course, when the occasion demands,' Schellenberg admitted. 'But as for not
caring about Haider, I'm really not so sure.'

'Explain.'

'I read her reports "when she
returned from
Egypt
.
It seems that apart from Haider, she maintained a friendship with another young
man, an American. She intended the relationships purely as a convenience, of
course, all part of her cover. But as you well know, when you're an experienced
intelligence officer, you train yourself to try to read minds, and the true
meanings behind words.'

'What are you saying?'

'I got the distinct feeling that
had she not left
Egypt
when she did, she might have been torn between her personal feelings and her
duty. When I debriefed her, I asked her out of curiosity how she felt about
both men. She admitted that she had strong feelings for each.'

'You're saying she loved them?'

'I'm saying that whatever she felt
was perfectly understandable.

She was a young woman in an exotic
setting, the romantic attention flattered her, and she found herself
responding, despite her best efforts not to. You know as well as I do that the
finest agents are never the unfeeling brutes - they're the ones with hearts and
minds.' Schellenberg shrugged. 'She's also a woman.

And we both know how unfathomable
a species they are.

Anything is possible. But she was
certainly caught up in a conflict of emotions.'

'What do you mean?'

'She changed after she returned to
Germany. Lost her appetite for her work. She was distracted, lacked focus,
until eventually, after a couple of disastrous missions in Istanbul, she was
relegated to agent training here in Berlin. And that's where she's been ever
since. If you must have an honest appraisal, I'd say she fell in love with both
men and couldn't get over them, but didn't want to admit it to herself.
However, this time she's perfectly focused, and in no doubt about the
importance of what must be done.'

Canaris sat there, feeling oddly
unmoved by the revelation.

'You still haven't told me what
happens now.'

'She and Deacon will do whatever
is necessary to carry this through. We now know the passageway is usable, and
Roosevelt
is inside the compound. The rest is up to
them.'

'Deacon knows about her?'

'He's been aware of our plans from
the start. Kleist too. I insisted on it. With that temper of his, he was likely
to have tried to kill the woman once she had outlived her apparent usefulness.'

Schellenberg smiled. 'Not that he
would have succeeded for a moment. She's more than capable of looking after
herself, and a truly excellent shot.'

Canaris still hadn't got over the
shock. He shivered, looked out at the rain, the grim black clouds hanging over
nighttime
Berlin
.
His anger was gone. It seemed pointless; everything was beyond his control.
After a time, he turned back. 'But do you honestly believe she can kill
Roosevelt
?'

'Believe me, if there's even a
slim hope that anyone can finish this, Nightingale can.'

Weaver sat there, his face as if
carved in stone, every muscle taut.

It was very still in the room, the
silence overpowering. Haider didn't utter a word, thunderstruck, until Rachel
Stern had finished talking.

'I have to admit, you fooled me
completely,' he said very quietly, still in shock, his voice almost a whisper.
'The business of the camp, the reasons why Schellenberg wanted you as part of
this, the hostility towards me at first. They all rang true. But I can see now
I was gravely mistaken. It was all a sham.'

A look like remorse crossed her
face. 'None of it my fault, Jack. Like you, I was caught between the Devil and
the deep blue sea, obliged to do Schellenberg's bidding.' She came back slowly
from the window. 'You look stricken, Harry. Have I disappointed you that much?'

Weaver felt at a total loss for
words. He flinched, as if he'd received a physical blow, managed to whisper
hoarsely, 'More than you'll ever know.'

'I'm sorry it had to be this way.'

Haider said bitterly, 'Very
touching, but you can keep the
phoney
anguish, it
doesn't mean a thing. You never had an ounce of feeling for either Harry or me,
ever. Did you? It was all a game.’

She looked at them both steadily,
a kind of grief in her eyes.

'Is that what you really believe,
Jack?'

'I believe I've been an utter fool
- the rest of it is really immaterial. Except what happens next.'

'You're coming with Deacon and me.
You got close to
Roosevelt
once already. You
can do it again. But this time you'll have me as company. And if by any chance
there's an afterwards, we're flying out of here.'

'You mind telling me how?'

'The way Deacon arranged in case
of emergency. His Egyptian officer friend will make the pick-up from a desert
strip near Sakkara, and fly us to a German airbase on
Crete
.'

'Take it from me, even if anyone
makes it on board they'll be blasted out of the skies.'

'Deacon doesn't seem to think so.
The route's been worked out. Once the aircraft is north of
Port Said
, German night fighters will be
waiting to guide it to safety.'

'And who's going to do the dirty
deed at the hotel?'

The. That was the intention - if
you failed, or Skorzeny's men didn't arrive.'

'How?' Haider shook his head. 'You
won't stand a chance in hell of getting near
Roosevelt
,
never mind killing him and getting away with it.'

'I'm afraid I'm going to have to
play that particular hand as it falls. But as for the how-' Rachel produced
Deacon's Luger, put down the machine-pistol and took something from her pocket.
Haider instantly recognized the oblong metal shape. She fitted it on the end of
the Luger. 'A new silencer the SD has developed. The best they've ever
produced. If I fired behind your back you wouldn't even know about it.'

She quickly pointed the gun at
Haider, squeezed the trigger.

There was a barely audible sound,
like a tiny cough, and a slug whispered past Haider's ear, embedded itself in
the plasterwork behind. She fired again, deliberately to the right this time,
hitting one of the Nubian death masks on the wall, a clean shot between the
eyes.

'I'm impressed,' Haider said,
glancing at the result. 'So, I lead you in through the passageway and you take
your chances?’

'Is there any other option?'

'You could always forget about the
whole damned thing.'

She looked at him solemnly, shook
her head. 'I can't do that, Jack. And now you know the reasons why.'

'You can't really believe in all
that Nazi nonsense? The thousand-year Reich, one people, one Fiihrer?'

She hesitated, and a shadow
crossed her face, emotion welling in the corners of her eyes.

'What I believe in is really of no
consequence. Except I have a family rotting in the Gestapo's cellars, and I
really don't want them to die there. And a country that's being bombed to ruins
night and day. If it doesn't stop soon, there'll be nothing left for anyone,
nothing fit for decent people.'

'You poor, stupid fool. Don't you
see? It may be a deadly game we're playing here, but it's still only a game.
Nothing you do will make the slightest bit of difference. The Allies will still
win the war.'

Rachel didn't reply, and as Weaver
sat there, ashen-faced, listening to it all, totally puzzled, he looked at
Haider. 'You mentioned a passageway,' he said hoarsely. 'What did you mean?'

'I'm afraid you're way behind in
the game, Harry. There's a fatal 'weakness in your President's defenses.'

Haider explained about the tunnel,
and Weaver couldn't control his anger as he stared at Rachel, his voice full of
emotion, almost savage. 'Killing Roosevelt isn't going to end this war, it's
only going to make it worse. There's not an American soldier alive who wouldn't
feel outraged and want revenge. They'd want to see Germany on its knees. And
they'd keep on fighting for as long as it took, and they'd never give up. Not
till hell freezes over.'

'All of which changes nothing,
Harry, I'm afraid,' Rachel said to him. 'I still have a mission to complete. As
for you and your friend, you won't be harmed, not so long as you do as you're
told. You'll be tied up and left somewhere where you'll be in no danger of
being discovered, until long after this is over.

And now, Jack, I really think it's
time we left. Harry may be bluffing, but if he's not, we might have company
soon.’

'There's one slight problem.'

'What?'

'I'm not going with you.'

Rachel levelled the gun. Haider
said with resignation, his face very calm, 'Shoot me if you have to, but the
answer's still no. It stops here. I've had my bellyful of death and
destruction.

I've played my part and come to
the end of the tracks.'

'What about your son?'

Haider struggled to contain his
emotions. 'I think I accepted I'd never see Pauli again the moment I agreed to
go along with this insanity. And the answer's still the same.'

There was a frightening look of
pain on his face as he stared levelly at Rachel Stern. Finally, she said in
defeat, 'Very well, Jack. Have it your way.'

The door opened and Deacon came
back, Kleist behind him.

'The signal's been acknowledged.'

'And the woman?'

'In the cellar, tied securely,'
Kleist answered. He carried Helen Kane's uniform on his arm. 'I thought this
might come in useful.'

To Weaver's horror, he held up her
ID, grinning broadly.

'And you'll never believe what I
found in her pocket. A special pass for the compound.'

As Rachel studied the pass, Deacon
eagerly crossed the room, tugged at Weaver's tunic pocket, and removed his ID
wallet. 'They're both carrying special passes. It seems Lady Luck might be on
our side after all.'

Weaver was totally dismayed.
Haider said to Deacon, 'So, you knew the truth of it all along.'

'Kleist too, obviously. A sad
state of affairs when one German can't completely trust another, but there you
have it, Major.'

'Don't you think there's been
enough killing, Deacon? The war's over for Germany, even the dogs in the bazaar
know that.

You'll be wasting your lives
continuing with this.'

Deacon ignored him, turned to
Rachel. 'Are we ready?'

'I'm afraid the major's not
coming. It's just you and me.'

Deacon scowled, nodded at the gun
in her hand. 'Can't you change his mind?’

'It's pointless. We'll have to
take our chances alone.'

Deacon regarded Haider with
contempt. 'Such a pity you chose to be a traitor. You've probably missed your
chance to be part of history.' He looked back at Rachel. 'What do you want me
to do with him?'

'He still gets on the plane. Even
if we don't.'

Deacon didn't argue. 'Very well.
And the other one?'

She gave Weaver a lingering look.
'You'll have to keep him and the woman safely out of the way until long after
we've gone.'

Kleist had a bloodthirsty glint in
his eyes. 'Better to kill them all, here and now.'

She turned on him, fiercely. 'None
of them are to be harmed, that's an order. You'll do as I say.' She handed him
the M3 machine-pistol. 'Take this. Use it - but only if you have to. And I mean
that, Kleist.'

Kleist tucked his pistol into his
waistband and took the machine-pistol sullenly, as Rachel shot Weaver and
Haider a meaningful look. 'I just hope you'll both take the chance I've offered
you. Play it correctly, and you'll live.'

Deacon said, 'Seeing as the
major's deserted us, I suggest we take the motorcycle - it'll be faster. A
straight run across the desert to the village of Nazlat as-Saman, like you did
earlier.'

Weaver looked at Rachel with sudden
vehemence. 'You'll never get near Roosevelt. You'll be dead before you get ten
paces across the lawns.'

There was a strange look on her
face, unfathomable pain or remorse, and for a moment her eyes softened. 'I'm
afraid I've crossed the river on this one, Harry, and it's far too late to turn
back. So if you don't see me again, think of me sometimes.'

She looked at Haider. 'You too,
Jack. Or is that too much to ask?'

There was a long silence. Neither
of them replied, and she turned briskly to Deacon, as if she couldn't bear to
see their accusing stares a second longer. 'Let's go.'

She left the room, and as Deacon
made to follow her out, he said to Kleist, 'Take the boat south as far as
Memphis
with Hassan, and
go by foot to the landing area.' He checked his watch. 'Give us until oh three
thirty hours at the latest, the time Captain
Rahman's
aircraft is scheduled to land.'

'And if you don't show by then?'

'You leave without us,' Deacon
answered grimly. 'You heard what to do about Weaver and his lady friend. The
same with Haider.'

'Don't worry, they're in safe
hands.'

Deacon shot a pointed glance at
Kleist, and lowered his voice. 'I hope not. Personally, I think the woman's
making a grave mistake letting them live. A bad case of sentiment, I'm sure.'

Kleist grinned at him, cradled the
machine-pistol in his arms.

'You'd have given different
orders?'

'Wouldn't you?'