Churchill's Ace (Epic War Series Book 1) (27 page)

Before Madeline had time to think, Wolf took her into his arms and kissed her like a woman should be kissed. It was long and deep. When it was over, he said, “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself.”

“I didn’t mind. Wolf, I’m very sorry about your parents.”

“It was more than a shock. And your father?”

“Oh, that. It seems he has been reinstated with full honors bestowed on him by the RAF. Winston saw to that. He hasn’t touched a drop since. It is wondrous how life turns on the smallest of things.”

“Yes.”

“And what happens to you now?”

“I have no idea. Perhaps Randolph could drop me off, over my lines, and I could get back to the business of flying.”

Madeline gave Wolf a stern look. “You mean I just kissed the enemy...”

* * *

Mr. Stuart eyed Wolf with suspicion as he came down the stairs with Madeline. He said with more than a sarcastic tone, “Don’t think I’m not watching you.”

“Sir.”

“Don’t sir me. And I’m going to bloody well make sure you’re out of here and on your way to Canada with the rest of your blokes. Winston has lost his senses.”

Madeline showed Wolf to the door of Winston’s den. She said, “Mr. Stuart many have during these trying times.” Wolf entered the den. Madeline turned back to face Mr. Stuart. “For the record good sir. Captain Kruger saved my brother, Captain Ashton in France. And without much thought to the danger that action afforded him. My brother still commands 72 Squadron at Biggin Hill. Only because of what Captain Kruger did…”

Madeline went inside Winston Churchill’s den and closed the door behind her. Mr. Stuart muttered to himself. “Well, I don’t like him. A German haunting 10 Downing Street, it just isn’t right.”

Winston was seated behind a large ornate desk. The den or what might be considered a mini-office for the Prime Minister was bigger than Winston’s den back at Chartwell. It still had the familiar aroma of Winston’s fine Cuban cigars. Winston looked at the manila folder on his desk. He put his hand to his chin and thought for a moment.
I’m sorry; it has to be done. The truth has a nasty habit of rearing its ugly head at the most inopportune times. Unfortunately, that time is now
. Winston poured himself a glass of scotch. “My physician is waiting for you in the adjoining room. Now…”

“Excuse me, Winston, before you start. What are my choices? Or do I have any?”

“Ah, you mean to remedy your present situation, which was unforeseen and unfortunate. To get shot down by a supposed comrade in arms… I can’t think of anything worse. And a Nazi to boot.”

Madeline poured herself a glass of scotch. Wolf asked, “Since when have you taken up drinking.”

“Recently, like right now.”

Winston went on. “Wolf, you have two choices, and I will respect your wishes. Tomorrow morning, I will have James drop you off at the prisoner holding area, at the Southampton docks. In a week or so, you will then be transported to Canada to sit out the war.”

Madeline said, “Sir Winston that would be a waste of Wolf’s unique abilities. There aren’t many who can claim to have been shot down by a fellow pilot... and one be it on the same side.”

Wolf sighed, “And the other?”

Winston surprised both of them. “I can offer you safe passage back to your unit. Via a parachute of course.”

Madeline ruefully said, “You can’t be serious. He’ll just come back over the next day to attack us.”

Wolf shrugged, “Actually, if it was early enough, it might be the same day.”

“That isn’t funny!”

Winston looked at the both of them.
The struggles of being young. So much to do. So much to hope for. This bloody war makes it all...impossible
. Winston’s face turned serious, and Wolf took notice. There wasn’t an ounce of joy from what he then said, “Wolf, there is something that I now must show you. It has to be done. I’m very sorry. But you have the right to know the truth about your parents.” Winston handed the folder to Wolf.

Wolf hesitated and then opened the folder. What he saw next were glossy pictures of his two dead parents. There were separate pictures for each one. They were on a slab in a Berlin morgue. A copy of an autopsy was behind the photographs. Wolf’s hands started to shake, and Madeline reached over to steady him.

She then moved closer to him as Wolf turned the horrifying pictures over and read the autopsy report. He spoke softly, “My father was shot twice, once in the chest and then the head. “My... poor mother’s skull was bashed in.”

Winston said, “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to tell me; I know who’s responsible for this. Zigfried and his Nazi friends. I got my parents killed.” Wolf dropped his head. “It’s as simple as that.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” said Madeline.

Winston sighed, “Wolf, it won’t change anything, but evil has a way of destroying all that is good.”

Wolf ripped his Knight's Cross with Swords award from his uniform. He dropped it on Winston’s desk, and it clanged against a fancy pen and pencil set. Madeline and Winston watched in disbelief. What was Wolf doing? He got to his feet and steadied himself. “Sir Winston I respectfully request a third option.”

Winston had a puzzled look on his face. Madeline was taken back and didn’t know what to think. Wolf was as confusing as ever. Winston said, “And what is that?”

“Sir Winston, I formally request to join the RAF.” Winston and Madeline were astonished. Before they could say anything, Wolf said, “I need a Spitfire; I heard that it is a good plane.”

Winston parsed his next words carefully, “Are you sure? You will be flying against what was once your country.”

“Country, that’s a joke! They saw fit to murder my parents! I have no family now.”

Madeline said with some tears in her eyes. “That isn’t entirely true.”

Winston stood up and shook Wolf’s hand. “England and His Majesty gratefully and wholeheartedly accept your request.”

“I would like to be posted at Biggin Hill. That’s in the middle of the action, and I did bomb it today.”

“You’ll be with Randolph,” said Madeline.

“And one more thing, Sir Winston. I’d like your permission to see Madeline.”

Madeline smirked at Wolf. “You might want to ask me about that.”

“I would have, but I was afraid you’d say no.”

Winston said, “Shouldn’t you be asking Lord Ashton that question?”

“Surely, when I meet him. But since it is your fault that you introduced me to Madeline, I thought I should ask you.”

“Of course. What do I do with your medal?”

“Stick it up Goering’s behind. I’m ready for the doctor now.”

“Madeline, show Captain Kruger of the Royal Air Force the way.”

“With pleasure.”

Mr. Stuart entered Winston’s private office as soon as Madeline and Wolf left. He was none too happy, and he made sure that the Prime Minister knew that. “Sir, I must insist that the German leave these premises as soon as possible. It is my duty to inform you, that you have broken every security protocol that I can think of.”

“His Majesty and I as well, do appreciate the fine work you and your able staff provide here. You’ll be happy to know that Captain Kruger will be leaving in the morning.”

“Then I can soon expect the guards from the RAF to take custody of the prisoner.”

“The RAF will be escorting Captain Kruger in the morning, but that will be to Biggin Hill where he will be joining 72 Squadron.”

“What do you mean?”

“To put it plainly, Captain Kruger has joined the RAF.”

“Extraordinary. Can you trust that fact?”

“Really Mr. Stuart, he’s the very person whom I entrusted with the helm of my dingy during the Regatta on the Thames.”

“Oh.”

“And now he’s flying on the right side. Mind you, no one has a choice as to where they are born. Then of course, indoctrination soon follows and a child becomes a boy and then a man. And along the way, he learns that his country is right and just...no matter the circumstances and without question. Does that person ever pause and contemplate who and what he is fighting for? And if he did, would he have the character to see the truth? Would he yearn to see the truth?

“Who wants to be told, he has been serving and, therefore, living a lie. But Mr. Stuart, it is Wolf Kruger whose only dream was to fly, that has seen the Nazis for what they are. And he has lost mightily for it. First his parents, whose idea of power was to teach students the classics of the world, whether that was Chaucer or Plato. They were senselessly murdered for that and not toeing the Nazi line.

“How can any man stand back and accept that or sleep well knowing that the very country he goes into battle for has squeezed the life from what is good. No, Wolf didn’t accept that. You see it’s not as simple as Captain Kruger flying for England.

“Now he flies for humanity. That isn’t to say our country hasn’t fallen down at times. Our imperfections are well noted. But dear Mr. Stuart we are allowed to speak our piece. And when we go to bed, it is without fear that our door will be flung open and all that we stand for is taken away, never to see the light of day...”

Hans hadn’t really known what fear was. How could he? He was the son of a potato farmer. What danger was there in that? Not much had gone wrong in his years at the farm. It was silly, but the nearest he had come to a disaster was a batch of fermenting vodka that had gone bad. The alcohol content of the vodka that Hans had proudly whipped up was off the charts. Luckily, his father took a whiff of it and poured it out where he stood. As long as Hans could remember, nothing grew on that ground again.

While the other pilots in JAG 23 slept off the French champagne, Hans was alone in the darkness. How could Wolf have been suddenly shot down? One second he was sleeping in the very cot that now was cold and barren. The next, he was gone and that was it. The finality of it didn’t make any sense.

Hans had assumed that it would be him who would go down in flames. But flying next to Wolf, he felt safe. He knew that nothing would happen to him with Wolf at his side. Hans would have followed his friend straight into hell, because he knew they would come out the other side.

But now, Hans was to be Zigfried Bockler’s wingman. Hans didn’t trust Zigfried. He didn’t trust his judgment or motives. How was he to protect a man that he hated? Everything had gone wrong. Hans didn’t care what it meant or how it made him feel. He was scarred. More than that, he feared for his life.

In the darkness of the barracks, he grasped a picture of his fiancé, Helga. He held the picture in his hands as he tried to sleep, and he wished he was somewhere else... any place except here and flying with Zigfried.

At the same time, Colonel Dunkel was burning the midnight oil at his office. He had gone down the pilot’s roster, and it was only now that he took Wolf Kruger off the active list. He had to do it. The report would be sent up the line, and then the questions would start. What do you mean the Luftwaffe’s first ace in the Western Theatre of operations was shot down? And who’s fault was that? The information would be kept from the public. The Luftwaffe’s golden boy was no more. Better to move on to the next hero.

It pained Colonel Dunkel to see Captain Bockler take over command of JAG 23. But there wasn’t anything that he could do about it. The unspoken truth was that the wishes of the Nazi Party were to be acquiesced to. It was cut and dry; Zigfried was the senior pilot in the squadron, and if Colonel Dunkel passed over him, he needed a reason... a good reason. Now the fate of JAG 23 was in the hands of someone other than Wolf Kruger.

Wolf’s shoulder was properly stitched by Winston’s physician. The parting words from the doctor were, “Take it easy for a few days. No undue physical activity.”

Madeline laughed, “Good luck with that.”

The doctor shook his head and left. Wolf and Madeline went upstairs. They stopped at the doors to their separate bedrooms. Wolf looked at Madeline. “I have to tell you something. In case, it happens again.”

“You mean if you get shot down again, and don't come back."

“Yes.”

“Well, I’m all ears.”

“Why do you make everything so difficult?”

“It’s a horrible habit, but there it is.”

Wolf turned serious. “I loved you the first time I saw you. It’s the truth. I’m not sure why, but I’m helpless to say anything else. Goodnight.” Wolf opened the door to his room.

“Where are you going?”

“What.”

Madeline opened the door to her room. “Don’t you see? I choose you. It was always you.” Madeline gave Wolf her hand, and he closed the door behind them.

James saw all of this from the foyer. He wasn’t in the habit of listening through keyholes, but he couldn’t help himself. He joined Winston in his office. Winston said, “James may I offer you a final brandy before we turn in. It was a day filled with many twists and turns. Unexpected and I must admit even dramatic. I’m afraid, the first of many.”

James took a seat and the glass of brandy. “And the surprises aren’t done with. It seems that Madeline and Wolf retired to the same bedroom.”

Winston leaned back in his chair. “It was inevitable and for the best. They’re young and impetuous. It isn’t their fault that the world is at war. Love doesn’t wait for anything.”

“Winston.”

“Yes, James.”

“Can we beat the Luftwaffe?”

“I don’t know.”

“Are you going to play solitaire tonight?”

“The hour is late. I often find the answer to complex situations in the stack of 52 cards...”

Wolf kissed Madeline goodbye while it was pitch black outside. He dressed in an RAF uniform that was waiting for him outside the room. It fit perfectly; maybe that was a good sign. He smiled when he thought that Winston had made sure of that.
Winston Churchill thinks of everything and was always one step ahead of the game
.

James and Winston were waiting for him downstairs. Wolf passed Mr. Stuart, who saluted him, “Sir.”