Initiative (The Red Gambit Series Book 6) (16 page)

“Anything at all, Pennsylvania-six, over.”

Hanebury strained to hear the reply, as Stradley tried to keep his voice low on the radio.

“Negative since last report, Pennsylvania-six-two, over.”

Major Imerman was singularly unimpressed. He had drawn the duty for no other reason that he was rostered off medical duties for that night.

The lack of sleep that came hand in hand with the responsibility of command made him less than agreeable.

“So, a goddamned wild goose chase then, Sergeant.”

Hanebury let it go.

“No, Sir. They’re up there… no question… were up there. Something spooked them. They musta seen something and they’ve bugged out.”

The MP NCO found himself suddenly unwinding, convinced that he was right, and that the infiltrators had gone.

None the less, he could not bring himself to order a stand down…
‘request a stand down’
he reminded himself, as Imerman made angry clucking noises off to his left.

The two MP forces remained waiting until 0315 hrs, when Hanebury made the decision, Imerman’s presence a long distant memory, the dentist having, with Hanebury’s blessing, retreated to his sleeping quarters before one o’clock.

SS-Kommando Lenz had had a close brush with the devil and, unknown to them, escaped certain death.

But Lucifer was not to be cheated, and laid his plans.

“I’m very sorry to hear that, Mr President, truly I am.”

Churchill listened intently as Truman confirmed everything that had been reported about the state of public opinion in the States.

The backlash against the use of the bombs was huge, and still growing, and presently more active than the support for further use of the weapons.

“Yes, Mr President, I can only agree with you.”

Both men were, in realistic terms, politically safe, or as safe as an incumbent politician can be when faced with internal revolts.

Churchill had been in power less than a year, and had been confirmed as leader for the duration of the Soviet War.

Truman had succeeded to the Executive post on the death of FDR, and the next election was not until November 1948.

However, the turmoil that had developed over the use of the bombs on Japan had taken their administrations aback.

Both had known that public opinion might not care for the images that appeared, although a large number just appeared from out of the ether, and most were not ‘official’ photos at all, but neither of them was prepared for the depth of feelings that washed over the Allied countries.

Horror and anti-war feelings on one side, ‘they had it coming’ feelings on the other.

More often, anti-war feelings were being expressed in every other Allied nation, and already the South American nations had expressed a desire to distance themselves fully from the Atomic strikes, up to and including withdrawal from the Alliance.

Opposition politicians found numerous bandwagons to jump on, citing the horrendous casualties suffered by the Allies and the latest developments in the technological arts of warfare, either as reasons to negotiate a peace and withdraw the troop, or to lay waste to Eastern Europe, all the way to the Chinese border.

Alongside the marches in protest or support of the three Atomic bombings were huge gatherings that called upon the leaderships to use the bomb or strike a deal for peace.

Politicians from Quebec to Buenos Aires, New York to Paris, across the spectrum of the Allied nations, spoke in terms of the inevitability of Soviet agreement to any terms the Allies would offer, now that the destructive capacity of the Atomic bomb was clear.

After all, as the French Prime Minister Félix Gouin stated openly,
‘No sane leadership could possibly fail to see the likely effects of continued conflict.’

Gouin had not had the benefit of meeting Stalin face to face, unlike the two men engaged in a secure telephone call, sat alone in their offices, thousands of miles apart, but joined in their mutual hatred of the idea of allowing Stalin’s aggression to stand.

In the States, the growing movement to stop the war was still completely dwarfed by the calls to fully prosecute the war, and employ more bombs to bring it to a conclusion that meant the boys could come home, and that the Soviet Union was transformed into warm ash.

Most other countries, save Germany, were less enthusiastic.

Even the British laid back on a bed of tired stoicism, understanding that their nation must do what the nation must do, but without huge enthusiasm for either course, preferring whatever would be quickest and least costly, although Churchill himself understood precisely which course he wanted to take.

Truman wound up his report on the rioting that had cost nearly two hundred lives, and destroyed property and livelihoods from San Francisco to Buffalo.

The universal joys of the Japanese surrender had not survived the last month’s heavy casualty figures from Europe, not for any of the Allied Powers The general public at home, democracy or no, had taken to the streets in protest. People had died in demonstrations supporting peace, as well as war, an irony wasted on few.

Except, perhaps, for the Germans.

There was no protest at the use of such devices, just the occasional call from some emerging politician or older but inactive elder statesman, seeking use of Atomic weapons against the Soviet Union, and the use of them immediately, a view which grew only within German borders.

Churchill listened, preparing his own message of gloom to his American friend.

“Quite, Harry, quite. For our part, you already know of the demonstrations in London and Birmingham. I regret that I have to add Glasgow and Edinburgh to that list. Regretfully, the former turned into a full-blown riot. Thirty-eight were killed before order was restored. Add that to those already lost and likely to succumb to their injuries, a round hundred deaths in a week.”

He puffed on his cigar, ignoring the whisky that called to him, promising himself full access once this important call had been completed.

“De Gaulle has more problems, of course. Have you spoken to him, Harry?

Churchill laughed at the response.

“Yes, I know, but sometimes one had to perform one’s duties, regardless of personal choice.”

His response was well received and he risked another puff on his cigar.

His eyes narrowed as Truman added more fuel to the fire, listing the steady procession of ambassadors that either had trooped through the Oval Office or were still on the list to attend, all of whom sought cast-iron assurances that there would be no use against the USSR, in the east or west of the vast land.

He had his own list of visitations to relate, a virtual mirror of the list of countries presently burning his ears.

The Polish, in particular, were caught between a rock and a hard place, as they had always rebelled against the use of ‘special weapons’ in Europe and, since the reports and interviews with survivors of the Japanese atrocities, railed against their use, period.

But they were also concerned that any deal struck with the USSR would leave them less of a nation than in 1939.

Truman finished his recitation of the disaffected nations and moved to personal comment.

“Not that we had any immediate plans to, of course, but there’s no way, no how, we can employ any such weapon at the moment, Winston.”

“I concur, Harry, but we can still proceed with our arrangement, can we not?”

It was something that Churchill had pushed for, agitated for, and that Roosevelt had constantly denied him.

Truman had acquiesced without too much effort on the British PM’s part.

“Yes, Winston, that will proceed, given the inevitability of it all.”

“Thank you, Mr President.”

Churchill mentally ticked his ‘want’ list and, whilst the deployment of a British equivalent to CG-509, and shared mission status with an agreement on use of an atomic device, was important, there were other fish to fry.

He had noted that Truman made no announcements regarding Sweden.

“Harry, I had the Swedish ambassador here, and I think it’s fair to say that we can expect no great assistance from them, openly or covertly, for the foreseeable future.”

Truman had not had an inkling of that from either the embassy, or his own ‘contacts’ in the Court of Bernadotte, both home and away.

The situation was crystal clear to both the major Allied leaders.

What had been a general wish to avoid using ‘enhanced’ weapons on mainland Europe had grown into a public outcry across the globe, supported and encouraged by every single Allied power, all save Germany.

“Mr President… Harry… I believe we find ourselves at a turning point, one that we must consider very carefully.”

Churchill leant back in his chair and closed his eyes.

“Our people have suffered a great deal, more than we had envisaged. Our prayers have not been answered, and we find ourselves, despite our stunning advances and domination of the sea and air, at a serious disadvantage. We both know that Secretary Stalin suffers from no such internal pressures and…” Winston added as an after-thought, “I daresay he has some hand in the domestic challenges and issues that beset us all at this time.”

There was, as yet, no clue that much of their political discomfort was being orchestrated from a city many thousands of miles away.

He drew on his cigar as Truman offered his agreement.

“Unless we remove the shackles that have been imposed upon us, I see no alternative but for us to prosecute this war at a low level, until such times as the public furore passes over or lessens…”

Truman interrupted, putting his own no-nonsense interpretation forward.

“Indeed, Harry, we cannot have those sort of casualties again, and we both know that use of the Atomic weapons would have helped in that regard.”

Churchill smiled at the response.

“Quite, nothing overt whatsoever… indeed… but, as agreed, we will continue to develop our own plans on the matter.”

Churchill puffed furiously as the President of the United States spoke at length, nodding and making noises of agreement as Harry Truman set out the world as he saw it.

He finished and, with an intake of breath, Churchill crushed the cigar into the crystal ashtray with genuine strength and finality.

“Yes, I agree, Harry, and I suggest that our agencies work together to root out any agitators. I will clear my diary for the second week in July immediately. Chequers first, then off to France... I should think two days here will be enough, don’t you?”

Churchill listened intently, chuckling to himself, Truman’s wit surfacing in a comment about one of their close allies.

A knock on the door went unanswered, although the Prime Minister checked the mantle clock and knew exactly who was stood outside the double doors.

“Yes, Mr President. I think we must include everyone. I will have my staff make the arrangements to… yes… indeed… agreed… agreed… erm… I will think on that one until we meet face to face, Harry. Now, I’m about to set Second Army Group in motion. They’re here now… yes… yes indeed…”

Churchill stood and eased his back.

“Come in!”

The door opened and the new arrivals were immediately greeted with an imperious hand, demanding silence.

“Yes, and to you too, Harry. Safe journey and Godspeed… yes, I hope so to… and goodbye to you, Sir.”

He replaced the handset and swept up the whisky, all in one easy motion.

“Good afternoon. Help yourselves, gentlemen.”

He indicated the decanter, but none of the four men wished for a spirit so early in the afternoon.

“Please, be seated.”

They took their seats, arranged in a semi-circle facing Winston’s desk, and waited to hear whatever it was that was so important that they had received orders to cancel everything and be here for one o’clock precisely.

Churchill, with a sense for the dramatic, refilled his own glass and resumed his seat, all to a backdrop of loaded silence.

They needed no introductions, either to the Prime Minister, or to each other.

They represented the very top of their professions, military men in the service of His Majesty.

Admiral of the Fleet and First Sea Lord Sir John Henry Dacres Cunningham enjoyed an excellent professional and personal relationship with the Commander in Chief of the RAF, Air Chief Marshall Sir Charles Portal, 1st Viscount Portal of Hungerford, provided that the subject of Coastal Command was not raised, in which case they would fight for overseeing rights long into the night.

Both in turn had great respect for Alan Francis Brooke, 1st Viscount Alanbrooke, Field Marshal, and Chief of the Imperial General Staff, although the subject of an Army Air Force would spike Portal into reaction, and naval and marine amphibious forces was always guaranteed to make any meeting between Cunningham and Alanbrooke quite lively.

The three men turned their heads simultaneously, without a cue, and examined the fourth member present, a man with whom they had all had issues of varying subject matter, mainly caused by a combination of the man’s abrasive manner, almost dismissive approach to opinions not wholly in support of his own, and total faith in himself.

Alanbrooke, in particular, had fielded more of the man’s issues than most, and had been forced to placate more than one important ally, who had received a taste of the man’s lack of tact.

“Thank you all for coming at such short notice.”

Churchill turned to the fourth man.

“And I hope that you are fully recovered?”

“I am, Prime Minister, thank you.”

Field-Marshal Sir Bernard Law Montgomery, recently created as 1st Viscount Montgomery of Alamein, settled back in his chair, wondering why he was present in such august company, but already imagining himself at the head of some huge enterprise, his natural place, given his undoubted superior abilities.

Churchill outlined the present political situation, adding in most of the matters recently discussed with Truman.

He wound up his delivery of the facts, moving them quickly into the area of resolution.

“So, as you can see, gentlemen, we have a singularly unpalatable set of choices. So, unless you can see another alternative that satisfies the aims and desires of His Majesty’s Government and his allies, this is what it is proposed to do.”