Spandau Phoenix (52 page)

This was one of those times. As Hess stared out at the mountain, a stabbing pain pierced his stomach. He bent double, clenching his abdomen with his heavy-muscled forearms until the agony abated. He had endured these attacks for three weeks now, each in stoic silence. For he knew it was no organic toxin that caused the pain, but anxiety-a terrible, withering apprehension. The first,attack had struck him on December 18, less than twelve hours after Hitler issued his secret Directive Number 21. In that order the Fuhrer had commanded that all preparations for plan Barbarossa-the full-scale invasion of Soviet Russia-be completed by May 15 of this year.

Hess regarded Directive 21 as insanity, and he was not alone.

Some of the Wehrmacht's most gifted generals felt the same. Hess felt no moral qualms about betraying Stalin or attacking Russia. If a few million Russians had to die to create new living space for Germans, so be it. But to attempt the invasion now, while England remained unbeaten in the west? Madness!

Hess had a single hope. If peace with England could somehow be secured before Barbarossa was launched, suicidal tragedy might yet be averted.

Just six months ago Hitler had offered peace to the British from the floor of the Reichstag, and Winston Churchill had immediately answered with a resounding "No!" Yet that had not discouraged Hess.

With the help of Professor Karl Haushofer, a family friend, he had sent a sub-rosa letter to England proposing a secret meeting in Lisbon between himself and Douglas Hamilton, the Premier Duke of Scotland.

The subject to be discussed: AngloGerman peace. The Duke of Hamilton was renowned as the first man to fly over Mount Everest, and Hess liked the idea of dealing with a fellow flyer. He himself had won the dangerous air race around the Zugspitze, Germany's highest peak.

Hess had met Hamilton briefly at the 1936 Olympics in Berlin, and the dashing young duke had seemed just the type of fellow who could short-circuit the tedious process of diplomacy and bring Churchill to his senses.

Yet three months had passed since the peace letter began its circuitous journey to England, and still Hess had received no answer.

For the first few weeks he hadn't worried too much; Hitler had given tacit consent to the peace feeler, and gratefully he hadn't seemed too disappointed when the effort did not immediately pan out.

Even as weeks turned to months-while Hess grew more agitated with each passing day-Hitler seemed unconcerned. Then on December 18, Hess, to his horror, discovered the reason for the Fuhrer's uncharacteristic patience. Hitler meant to invade Russia whether peace with England had been secured or not! From that day forward Hess had prayed despqrately that an answer from the Duke of Hamilton might still arrive-that peace negotiations could still be arranged. He hoped that he had been summoned to the Berghof today to discuss that very event.

Wiping the sweat from his brow, he took another long look out at the great mountain across the valley. Legend told that the Emperor Charlemagne slept beneath the Untersberg, that one day he would rise up to restore the lost glory of the German Empire. Hess had often boasted that Adolf Hitler was the fulfillment of that prophecy. Now he was not so sure. No man was more faithful to the Fuhrer than he, but lately he had begun to think back to the old days, to the Great War. Hess had been Hitler's company commander then, and young Hitler only a dispatch runner, one more mustard-gassed soldier betrayed by the Jewish financiers.

Hess caught his breath as another stab of agony twisted his stomach. He shut his eyes against the pain, yet even as he did, a horrifying vision filled his mind. He saw the frozen, limitless steppes of Russia stretching away before him, league after league, drenched in blood.

German blood.

When the pain finally eased, he pressed his sweaty palms to the great sheet of glass, fingers outspread, and looked out at the Untersberg in silent invocation: If ever there was a time for you to rise, emperor, it is now! What the Fuhrer plans was beyond even Napoleon, and I fear that without some miracle, the task he set us is too great"Rudi!" Adolf Hitler called across the richly appointed salon. "Come here! Let me see you!" w, he felt a jolt of asWhen Hess turned from the windo tonishment. The effusive welcome had not surprised him; Hitler often complained that his senior staff did not visit the Berghof frequently enough. But his clothes ... Hess was startled speechless. For some time now Hitler had worn dark business suits during the day, and dressed with particular severity around the time of military conferences. But today-with a major war conference scheduled in a matter of hours-he looked just as he had during the early thirties, wearing a blue linen sport jacket, white shirt, and a yellow tie to top it all off. Hitler strode forward and clapped Hess on the back, then led him away from the window.

"I've had historic news today, Rudi," he said, his voice quavering with excitement. "Prophetic news."

Hess braced himself for whatever revelation might follow this ominous preface. "What has happened, my Fuhrer?"

"All in good time," Hitler said cryptically. "Tell me, how are your training flights progressing?" two a week since Hess shrugged.

"I've managed one or October."

"Good, good. Anyone taking an unusual interest in your activities?"

thought he had seen the Fuhrer wink, For a moment Hess but he banished the thought. "I don't believe so."

"Not Goring? Or Himmler?"

Hess frowned. "Not directly, no."

Hitler's eyes flickered. "Indirectly?"

"Well ..." Hess looked thoughtful. "Last fall Himmler lent me his personal masseur, to see if he could relieve my stomach pains-" "Felix Kersten?"

"Kersten, yes. He was a bit more inquisitive than I thought proper at the time. Is he one of Himmler's spies?"

"Notorious!" Hitler cackled.

Hess was perplexed. He had not seen the Fuhrer in such a mood since Compiegne, after the French surrender. He watched Hitler clasp his hands behind his blue-jacketed back, then pace across the room and stop before a magnificent Titian nude.

"I have a destination for you, Rudi," Hitler said to the painting.

"At last. Would you like to guess it?"

Hess felt a tightening in his chest. He had played these games before, and he knew Hitler would say nothing more until he had guessed at least twice. "Lisbon?" he tried impatiently.

'No.

"Switzerland?"

"No!"

Hess could hear the laughter in Hitler's voice. This really was intolerable, even from the Fuhrer. Just as Hess started to say something he might regret, Hitler turned to him with an expression that could freeze molten steel. "England," he said softly.

Hess thought he had misheard. "I beg your pardon, my FuhrerT' "England, " Hitler enunciated, his eyes flashing.

With a sudden surge of elation Hess understood. "We've had an answer from the Duke of Hamilton! Professor Haushofer's letter has done it!"

Hitler waved his hand irritably. "No,'no, Rudi, don't be silly.

Haushofer and his son are merely decoys-diversions meant to confuse British Intelligence."

Hess opened his mouth to protest, but no words came out.

"I know Haushofer is an old friend of yours, but his dilettante son is a member of the German resistance, for God's sake. But for you, I'd have had him shot months ago."

Hess was dumbfounded. To hear that all his peace efforts to date had been in vain was bad enough, but the revelation that his old friend's son was a traitor ... it was beyond belief!

hrer? There is no "And the Duke of Hamilton, my Ffi chance that he might still help us?" n is as loyal an EnHitler snorted. "The Duke of Hamilton englishman as you could find, Rudi. of course, that doesn't mean the duke can't prove useful." there

"England," Hess murmured, trying to will away another stomach cramp.

"Would my visit be in an official capacity?"

"of course-not," Hitler scoffed. "That kind of play-acting I leave to blusterers like Ribbentrop-Your mission will be all substance, Rudi. A master stroke of statesmanship!"

Hess stood silently for some moments. "Do you ... do you mean that you have a plan to secure peace from the British?" be th isfaction. "That is exactly what Hitler amed wi self-sat I mean. Fate has answered us in our hour of need. Peace and, Rudi, and Russia is within our with Britain is at h grasp."

Apropos of nothing, Hitler launched into a critical assessthe Russian stePPes, haries XII's campaigns on ment of C ru ut Mussolini's arrothen segued ah ptly into a harangue abo gant nephew Ciano. From years of practice Hess managed to look attentive while ignoring the entire monologue-His mind was filled by an image of himself flying hell-forleather over the English Channel on an errand to see GOd only knew what Englishmen. Finally his anxiety got the better of him, and, quite out of character, he interrupted Hitler.

,You wish me to fly to London, my Fuhrer?"

on yet," Hitler rep "I'm not sure of the exact destinati lied, ignoring the interruption. "But certainly not London. MY God, they'd throw you in the Tower before you got a chance to speak to anyone!"

"Undoubtedly," Hess agreed. asy, R@0i. What is it)"

Hitler frowned. "You seem une ,Well ... England. I mean, it's not neutral We're still at war. If I were to be captured there, the results could be catastrophic." Hess saw Hitler's face darken, as it always did at the slightest hint of opposition. "I'm not worried for myself, of course' " he said quickly, "but with all that I know ...

the Russian invasion ... Barbarossa."

ks Hitler snapped. "But there "I'm well aware of the ris " is no alternative, Rudi-We must have peace with England now, no matter what the cost. I have considered every option. I even thought of sending your double in your place.

He hasn't done anything but sit on his backside in Denmark since we trained him."

Hess felt a jolt of surprise. He had almost forgotten he had a double.

The Fuhrer obviously had not.

"But it would never work," Hitler declared. "The English will be looking for a trick, and they know you too well. A simple check for your war wounds would unmask any impostor." Hitler chuckled. "I'm afraid you're almost as famous now as I am, old friend. And that's what makes you perfect for this mission."

Hess cleared his throat. "What exactly is the mission, my Fuhrer?"

Hitler began pacing out the room. "The operation will be called Mordred. But for the time being, the less you know the better. I only tell you your destination now because I must know you can reach England on the given night. Whatever @ning or navigational practice you need to ensure success on such a flight, you must do it." Hitler stopped pacing and looked into Hess's deep-set eyes. "Can you fly alone to England, Rudi? Alone in the darkness?"

Hess nodded crisply. "Absolutely, my Fuhrer."

Hitler nodded. "Do you have any parachute training?"

Hess's eyes widened. "No."

Hitler clucked his tongue. "I thought not. You probably won't need it, anyway. I'm told the Duke of Hamilton has a landing strip right beside his castle."

Hess felt more confused than ever. "But you said that the Duke of Hamilton was a loyal En lishman!"

Hitler smiled enigmatically. "That is quite irrelevant." His eyes twinkled. "Do you remember The Scarlet Pimpernel, Rudi?"

Hess's heavy black eyebrows bunched in puzzlement. "I ...

I believe you showed the film here at'the Berghof, didn't you?"

"That's right, just last year. The Pimpernel was the daring English nobleman who made fools of the French during the Reign of Terror."

"What has that to do with me?"

Hitler's eyes flashed with wicked glee. "Everything, Rudi! You know I have always admired the English. They are fellow Aryans. They are great empire-builders, as we Germans are. But"-Hitler stabbed a stiff finger into the air-"they have allowed themselves to be deluded by Churchill.

Dangerously deluded. Look what happened when I spared their pathetic Expeditionary Force at Dunkirk! I halted Guderian's tanks, blamed the British escape on Goring and the Luftwaffe"-Hitler's face reddened in anger-"and then Churchill had the nerve to call Dunkirk a British victory! The English people must be freed from the influence of that warmonger!" cross his broad chest.

Utterly adrift, Hess folded his arms a "But this Pimpernel business, my Fuhrer. How does it relate to me?" "Don't you see , Rudi? You're my Scarlet Pimernel!"

Hess stepped back in disbelief.

Hitler nodded excitedly. ,yes! You are the exact opposite of what you appear to be! Since the war heated up, everyone has written you off as merely a loyal bureaucrat who wastes his time on Party administration.

All my officers think I've forgotten you." Hitler shook his head bitterly. "How can they have forgotten, Rudi? From the beginning you fought beside me, took wounds meant for me. And now, you will be the man who receives my most sacred charge, the responsibility of the most sensitive mission in 'the history of the Reich. Together we shall prove yet again what fools they all are!"

Hitler's eyes went cold. "In such times as these, Rudi, we learn who our real friends are. I'm afraid that some of our oldest and most trusted comrades may have decided that the time has come to explore alternatives to the road I have chosen for Germany. They seem to think my decision to invade at Russia is a symptom Of madness. Imbeciles!