The Cairo Code (11 page)

“Your father certainly chose the wrong time to visit relatives in Hamburg with the boy.”

Halder was bitter. “I was on my back in hospital, recovering after that little escapade you arranged in Sicily, remember? Pauli was being looked after by his grandfather.”

“Not for a moment can you blame me for what happened, Jack. The Allies committed an utterly insane act. Ten square kilometers of Germany's second city wiped out, over sixty thousand dead, mostly civilians, and a hundred thousand injured. The use of incendiary fire-bombs was deliberate, to cause maximum civilian casualties. I hear the city was like a scene from hell—people burning like torches, the heat so intense the flaming asphalt made the streets look like rivers of fire. And the feeling is the Allies may intend the same for Berlin, sooner rather than later. Goebbels has already ordered the evacuation of a million citizens.”

Halder ignored the file, a harsh look on his face. “Get to the point.”

“There's a matter I wish to discuss. Something rather daring and dangerous that perhaps may put a little life back into that tortured soul of yours. Canaris has offered to loan you to me, if you agree.”

“I don't work for the SD. And the answer's no, whatever it is. I'm not interested. Me, I'm content to sit out the rest of the war in Berlin.”

“And then what? Wait for the Allies to hang you as a traitor? You may be a German citizen, but you're American-born, and with your war record it's quite a likely scenario. Where would your son be then? He needs you, Jack. Even more so now. And do you really think Canaris could allow you to relax in Berlin? Now that your wounds are healed, he'd use you every chance he got, especially with the war going the way it is. Which rather diminishes your chances of remaining alive. On the other hand, if you help me with this mission, we'll wipe the slate clean and you're free to go.”

“You mean leave the Abwehr?”

“I mean leave Germany. Get away from the war, if that's what you wish.” Schellenberg saw the surprise on Halder's face. “You have my word on it, Jack. And Himmler's and the Führer's. You and your son can start a new life together, somewhere safe and far from here.”

Halder frowned. “And what's the price I've got to pay?”

Schellenberg smiled. “You're ahead of the posse, as they say.”

“So tell me.”

And Schellenberg told him.

•  •  •

Halder looked bewildered for several moments, then he laughed. “Walter, you're definitely going crazy in your old age.”

“I assure you, the plan's feasible. And you know me, I always do my homework thoroughly.”

“The admiral knows about this?”

“It's to be a joint operation. Unusual, I know, but necessary under the circumstances. I shall take personal command of the planning and briefing.”

Halder crossed to the window, ran a hand through his hair, and looked back. “Kill Roosevelt? I know you think I'm an adventurer, but believe me, that doesn't include a vocation for suicide. Whoever accepted the mission would have about as much chance of surviving as a one-legged man of escaping a forest fire.”

Schellenberg laughed. “An interesting comparison, but hardly valid. The plan is quite simple, really. Once you and the team reach Cairo, you'd be established in a safe house. Any equipment you might need to move around the city with relative freedom—Allied uniforms and vehicles—should already have been secured for you by my agents, and they'll provide any further help you might need. All you have to do is affirm
exactly
where Roosevelt will be quartered—most likely at the Mena House—and find a weakness in their security that can be breached. You'll also need to secure a small airfield, about ten kilometers south of the Giza pyramids, that's largely unprotected. Once your objectives have been achieved, you radio us. When our SS paratroops land you lead them to the target and leave the rest to them. After that, we get you out.”

“How?”

“The same way Skorzeny's men will get out—by air.”

“You mean if anyone's lucky enough to survive. And why the devil do you need me?”

“I told you, my agents in Cairo may be cunning fellows, but they would be incapable of handling such a mission all by themselves. You, on the other hand, are a perfect candidate. You've already worked deep behind enemy lines in Egypt, speak fluent Arabic, and you're familiar with Cairo.”

“There have to be better reasons than that. You're bound to have agents who speak Arabic and know the city better than me.”

Schellenberg shook his head. “Not many, actually, and certainly not of your caliber with a proven track record. You've impersonated American and British officers to perfection many times, so a repeat performance shouldn't be beyond your abilities.” He opened his briefcase and unfolded a map on the table. “I've brought along a map to help you refamiliarize yourself with Cairo.”

“You're getting ahead of yourself. I haven't decided on anything yet. And you've told me nothing about the rest of the team.”

“I anticipate three others—two SS men and a woman.”

“Tell me about them.”

“The two SS are Major Dieter Kleist and Feldwebel Hans Doring. Both serving with Otto Skorzeny's commando group.”

“Dieter Kleist?” Halder looked across with contempt. “He's a ruthless animal, the worst kind of brute in uniform. I came across his work in the Balkans. He had the nasty habit of shooting suspected partisans out of hand, and raping his female prisoners before he put them out of their misery.”

“Perhaps, but even a brute has his uses. He's a very efficient and deadly weapon, our Kleist, recently transferred to Skorzeny's command, and an excellent man in the field. He also speaks reasonable English and Arabic, and he's acquainted with Egypt. He once worked for a German company, surveying for oilfields.”

“What about Doring's background?”

“He spent some time in the Middle East before the war, as a driver-mechanic for a German archeological crew. Now he's a specialist in covert operations behind enemy lines, and comes highly recommended.”

“By whom?”

“Skorzeny himself. Himmler insists on having Skorzeny's SS as part of the first team. I'm sure that between the lot of you, you should be able to do the necessary business.”

Halder shook his head. “So far, I still don't like it very much. What about the woman?”

“Her name's Rachel Stern.”

•  •  •

Halder was thunderstruck. After a long silence Schellenberg lit a cigarette. “Understandably, you're shocked. I believe you once knew her.”

Halder was still white-faced and didn't reply. Schellenberg said, “What's the matter?”

“It's been a long time since I heard that name.”

Schellenberg smiled. “I've been looking through your file again, with Canaris's permission, of course. Among the archeological team you joined in '39 were several Germans working for the SD. One of them was code-named Nightingale, the very best agent we had. I checked back through Nightingale's reports out of curiosity. Your name and the girl's were mentioned. It appears you were quite fond of her. It was rather daring of you, Jack, considering the girl's half Jewish. Does my information surprise you?”

“Nothing surprises me anymore. Where has she been all this time? What's happened to her and her family?”

“An interesting man, the professor. A renowned archeologist with several significant finds to his credit. However, he was also virulently anti-Nazi. Despite the fact that he spent much of his time abroad, the Gestapo were anxious to get their hands on him. They eventually succeeded with a stroke of luck.”

“What do you mean?”

“Four years ago the girl and her father were rescued in the Mediterranean by the Kriegsmarine. They were passengers on a Turkish vessel bound for Istanbul. It was sunk by an engine room explosion, and the professor's wife perished. Since then, the girl's been in Ravensbruck women's camp, detained at the Führer's pleasure, and her father's serving thirty years in Dachau.”

Halder flushed with rage. “You suddenly remind me why I started to dislike Hitler.”

“Come now, Jack. Not my doing. If the truth be known, I find this whole anti-Jewish thing quite repulsive. And I'll forget what you just said—it really doesn't do to broadcast such remarks.”

“What I don't understand is what part Rachel plays in your little scheme. Why do you need her?”

“She'll be your insurance—think of her as a temporary, but very necessary, policy.”

“What do you mean?”

“Like you, she speaks fluent English and Arabic, and knows her way around Egypt. But best of all, she's an expert archeologist, like her father. No disrespect, but you on the other hand have never been more than a keen amateur in such matters.”

“Why's her profession so important?”

“Simple, really. For the sake of appearances, as part of the mission, I intend your cover to be that of an international archeological team, stranded in the Middle East because of the war. My intelligence sources tell me there are several such groups still languishing in the area because of the hostilities. Needless to say, I can't go over the exact details of the entire plan until I know you're committed, but you can take it you'd have the usual faultless forged papers and documents that'll pass the stiffest test. Not that you'll need to use your cover story for very long. You shouldn't have to spend more than two or three days in Cairo at the most.”

“There are other cover stories you could have come up with. You're sure you're not just using her as another pawn to get me to go along with this?”

Schellenberg grinned. “Perceptive of you, Jack, and valid enough, but actually there is another reason why we need her. And perhaps a very important one, though it'll have to keep for now. You'll be told in good time, if you agree to come on board.”

“You're forgetting one important fact. What makes you so sure she'll cooperate?”

Schellenberg smiled knowingly. “There are always ways to entice. Besides, she'll know nothing about our true intentions. As far as she's concerned, it'll be just a little intelligence-gathering operation in Cairo.”

Halder shook his head. “I don't like the idea of using her. If she's been in a prison camp, she'll have been through enough as it is.”

“I'm afraid there's no one else quite suitable. Himmler's already read her file and thinks she's an ideal choice. And I must say, I agree.”

There was a sudden, pleading look in Halder's voice. “Not her, Walter. I'm asking this as a favor.”

“I'm sorry, but it's out of my hands.” Schellenberg paused, deliberately. “I'm sure the young woman would be safer if you went along. Especially if she had to endure Kleist. I'd rather fear for her safety once she'd outlived her usefulness.”

Anger erupted on Halder's face. “You're scum, Walter.”

“And I have a war to win. Sentiment can play no part in it.”

“You can't honestly believe this crazy business stands a chance?”

“Quite the contrary. I'm convinced it does. What Skorzeny accomplished in Italy can be repeated in Egypt, and with deadlier consequences. It'll be a hit-and-run operation—our men will be in and out so fast the Allies won't know what's going on until it's too late.”

He paused. “As regards your team, I'm told Cairo's quite cosmopolitan right now. Crammed with displaced Europeans and lots of Americans, not to mention troops from every nationality. In a big, sprawling city with a population of over two million, a few more faces won't look amiss. You should be able to move around with impunity. And by the way, Himmler's even promised you the Knight's Cross if you accept.”

“You can keep the stupid medal.”

Schellenberg laughed. “I thought you might say that. More important, he's agreed to offer you safe passage to Sweden, for you and your son. And onward to wherever you want to go.”

“I don't know. It all sounds too risky to me.”

“Trust me, it can work. And think about it. A German-American, sent to help kill Roosevelt? Surely it's almost a kind of poetic justice. You know what could happen if the Allies win and you're caught by the Amis.” Schellenberg used the contemptuous German word for Americans. “It's either a long prison sentence or a long rope. This way, you have a chance. One last mission and that's it. And there's a bonus.”

“What?”

Schellenberg nodded at the file on the desk. “The report on the Hamburg bombings—you ought to read it. Roosevelt gave his complete approval for the raids—in fact, he publicly urged the bombing crews to be merciless. Now Germany has a score to settle and you have the chance to repay what happened to your father and son. Personal, of course, but I always think the personal helps in such matters.”

“Who says I want revenge?”

“I can see it in your eyes, Jack. It's written on your face. Your mother's country killed your father and maimed your child. This offers you a chance for retribution.”

“And if I don't accept?”

Schellenberg shrugged. “A wise hound will always run with the pack. But if you refuse, I can assure you Himmler's displeasure will be unforgiving. Think about the young woman, too. She'd be safer in your hands, rather than Kleist's.”

“Who'd be in charge?”

“The first phase of the operation would be entirely under your command. Kleist and you are the same rank, obviously, but I'll see to it that he's answerable to you, and obeys your direct orders. Until our paratroops land in Cairo, that is. Once that happens, Skorzeny takes complete charge.”

“The Allies control the skies over the southern Mediterranean. You'd need either a very brave pilot or a very reckless one to attempt the crossing to Egypt in an unarmed plane, without a Luftwaffe escort. I presume that's how you intend doing it?”