"Sebastion! Don't forget the negative wire link. You did last time, and it cost us our mission. Not to mention how much it cost the Allies!"
Sebastion looked annoyed with Galin. He knows that he messed up on the last sabotage run. The French and English underground set up a series of demolition explosives along the westerly rails in order to limit Hitler's forces from bolstering the Normandy coastline. That particular job failure did cost the invading U.S. and British forces. No one could really quite calculate the loss. But there is no question, had the assignment been executed according to plan, many Allied soldiers would be alive today, who were not.
It hurt. Couldn't Galin see, how his fellow saboteur needed more encouragement and less condemnation.
"Yes, I have remembered Galin. I have all too well remembered." His voice trailed off in an obvious tone of remorse.
Galin did care. He was not rubbing in a past failure. He just didn't want another disaster. Yet, he knew that perhaps he could have said it a little differently.
"Look Sebastion, I'm sorry. I really didn't mean..."
"Don't worry about it Galin," Sebastion quickly interrupted. "It's OK. Yes, it hurts. But I need to get past it. And we must make sure this mission pans out. No screw ups. U.S. armored divisions will be breaking through on schedule and this passage way must be blocked to prevent Panzer tanks from using it."
The men finished their wire tie ins, and not a moment to soon. A German S.S. patrol came rolling down the mountain pass making sure it stayed clear in the event they needed it. At this point they did not have a clue as to the Allied plans, but the German army was known for its tactical and logistic prowess. Only this time they were a little late. The explosives were all set and ready to blow, ready to bring a landslide of trees and boulders down upon the narrow ridge that followed the edge of the mountain. It was the only avenue left open for the Germans to mount either a counter offensive or a hasty retreat once Allied armored divisions spilled through the plains south of Caen. The Americans and British were in dire straights along the hedgerow. Tiger tanks and heavy rifles were making mintz meat of smaller American armor. The newly planned Allied tactic to counter the situation was imperative. So much depended on this particular demo job.
"Sebastion!" Galin spoke in a hushed tone.
"Yes, I see them. But we will need to wait. If we set off the charges now, the S.S. patrol will radio back and inform their divisions. It very well could mess up the Allied surprise assault and compromise their strategy."
"Yea, retorted Galin, but if we don't get out of here those patrols are going to curry comb these woods and find the explosives, get us, and radio back anyway. On top of all that, they will send immediate reinforcements and make sure the passage stays clear. It's not good. We need to do this now."
He knew that Galin was right. With the Germans finding out that this mountain pass was undeniably an immediate target for sabotage by the discovery of the explosives, is not only going to tip them off on the planned offensive, but also provide them with time to secure the pass. But if they blow it now, ahead of schedule, the patrol will radio their forward command, which will compromise the mission as well. What to do.
Sebastion looked through his field glasses and noticed that the lead car had the radio operator. The radio itself usually sat somewhere in the rear of German vehicles. Yes, there it was. He had an idea. It would be risky, but it's a chance he believed worth taking. He so much wanted a "well done" operation. They were in the horns of a dilemma. His thoughts raced frantically, reviewing the situation over and over,
The scheduled time for demolition was set for exactly 1800 hours. This would tie in precisely with a measured, well timed bombing barrage, followed by an immediate assault of several armored divisions. It currently was 1500 hrs. Most likely if the Germans are forewarned of an attack they will retreat their panzer tanks from the targeted area, regroup and repel the Allied offensive from a better vantage point. This would be unacceptable, Sebastion fumed.
"Galin. I'm going in close for a sniper shot. I'm taking out that radio. When I do, you set off the charges. Make sure you set off them off in such a way so that they don't escape with their vehicles. Got It."
"Your crazy. That's suicide. You're going to get killed. Those Germans will be all over you like ants on sugar."
"Maybe so, but there is no way that I'm going to live with another botched mission on my conscience."
"That was different. And this is different. We couldn't foretell this patrol coming along when it did. This is not our fault or failing."
"It's no use Galin, you do as I say. I'm going for it now!"
And with that Sebastion hastily made his way, rifle in hand, maneuvering himself into position.
The captain of the S.S. unit casually smoked a cigarette with one foot propped up on the front bumper of the radio car. "Ich will der oberst." He ordered his radio operator to contact the colonel. He scanned the surrounding mountain terrain and continued to puff on a lucky strike from a pack of American cigarettes that he pilfered off a dead paratrooper.
"Ja, oberst. " Holding the phone out for the captain, the operator stood at attention.
"Oberst...." a lengthy conversation ensued, as the S.S. captain explained to his superior that the mountain pass seemed to be intact. "Nein, nien, Americana flugzeug, " he shouted into the mouthpiece. No American planes have been sighted. "Sehr gut oberst. Aus."
The captain ordered his men to begin patrolling the landscape, per colonel's orders. The seasoned S.S. soldiers fanned out into the woods.
Sebastion steadied himself against a tree some three hundred yards from the radio car. He had a clear shot now. One bullet will eliminate their means of communication. Lucky for the saboteurs that the S.S. captain checked in with his commanding officer when he did. This would eliminate, at least for a little while, any suspicion coming from the main body of Germans that something happened to the patrol. It would give the Allies time for the element of surprise in the scheduled offensive code named "cobra."
Crack! The rifle projectile smashed the radio in pieces.
"Dort drubin, dort drubin!" Soldiers began shouting and climbing in the direction where they heard the shot. Suddenly a loud explosion. Galin set off the charges as planned. Dirt, trees, and boulders came crashing down on the road behind the patrol vehicles. The Germans were really perplexed now. Boom! Another blast. This one in front of the small force.
"Schnell, schnell, das oberst wieder!" cried the S.S. captain running back toward the communications operator. Apparently the captain didn't realize that the rifle shot targeted the radio. He went walking down the road quite a way after conversing with his superior before the shot rang out and the explosions sounded.
"Nein, das radio ist kaputt!" the operator cried, frantically showing him the busted unit. The S.S. officer angrily shook his head and cursed. He ordered his men to start shooting in the hills above.
Galin watched the whole scene through his binoculars at a safe distance. He witnessed his friend and comrade in arms futilely try to make his escape from the hail of 50 caliber machine gun bullets and high powered rifle shots. Tears welled up in his eyes as he softly spoke toward the fallen hero, "You did well my friend. You did so well. The Allies owe you big. I'll make sure they remember it."
Galin wasted no time in retreating back into safety away from the pursuing troops. His job was done. With the mountain pass blocked, the Germans had no means of retreat or counter measures when operation cobra begins taking place in three hours. Now, thanks to the courage of Sebastion, the S.S. patrol will not be informing their corps commandant anytime soon on what just happened. The nearest German troop regiments were at least 30 miles Northeast and Southwest. The element of surprise has been preserved.
***
"More coffee Galin?"
"No thank you."
Galin, holding what was left in his steaming cup close to his mouth, looked pensively out the window. He watched fighter pilots take off from a temporary runway in central France. Fighters and bombers took off at regular intervals now to provide air support for ground troops rapidly advancing across liberated France.
Major Dunn looked over at the quiet underground agent and ventured a question.
"You miss him don't you?"
Galin glanced over at the major. Without saying a word he answered his question.
"It was not in vain. Your success that day helped to assure Allied victory and substantial gains throughout the European theater of war. Sebastion will be remembered with high honors."
"You got that right," Galin finally responded.
"Well, now that your talking. I was just curious, since I am newly transferred here from state side; and I have not yet been filled in on the details of your demolition operation. How did you and your partner smuggle five tons of explosives behind enemy lines, on top of getting yourselves in there?"
Galin walked over to the broad couch and plopped himself down. "You Americans. What do you think we were doing over here just before France fell?" A small pause. "Stowing away massive tons of explosives in different secretly marked locations, that's what."
"And let me guess. You and Sebastion dressed up as a couple of German regulars and made it through Nazi controlled check points," the major quipped
"Actually I dressed up as an officer. He was the regular. I'm the one who spoke excellent German. I had to threaten the front line guards when they hesitated on letting us through. Boy, I'll tell you, the fear of the Reich soldier for their superiors is something to see." Galin let out a burst of laughter.
"It's good that your in better spirits now." The major sat on the edge of his desk, his right foot firmly planted on the floor and his left leg dangling.
Galin laughed a little more, and then suddenly stopped as he looked up at major Dunn's serious expression.
"Here it comes right, another suicide mission?"
"I'm afraid so. This one is ten times more dangerous and many more times as imperative. Your knowledge and expertise on Nazi espionage, not to forget your ability to sprechen deutsch qualifies you above all other agents for this assignment."
Galin sat up and gave the major a - 'well lets have it!' - look.
"OSS intelligence has confirmed that Hitler is working on a super bomb of some sort. Something, from what I can best figure out by recent reports, that can blow up a city the size of London with one explosion."
"How can that be?" the stunned underground agent shot back.
"It gets worse. German scientists have developed rockets that can carry this bomb anywhere on the continental field of battle, and even across the English Channel."
Galin hung his head and shook it. He grew up in England. His family lives there. When his division barely escaped at Dunkirk, he chose to stay behind and volunteer his expertise for underground intelligence and demolition. He heard of the brutal bombings that Goering's Luftwaffe poured out on British cities, via radio broadcasts. And now this - A SUPER BOMB!
"That lunatic won't be satisfied until he turns the whole world into a sea of flames!" he vented angrily, got up, walked across the room, turned and stared at the major with grave concern.
"Yes, that's right. And it is why he must be stopped at any cost. The outcome of this war is at stake. Now we're not entirely clear on just how advanced the third Reich is on developing this weapon of mass destruction, but we aim to find out. If he is successful in producing this bomb, the Germans will not only wipe out our military forces across Europe, but also finally bring England to her knees. America will follow shortly there after.
"Why don't you just fire bomb the hell out of the place where the Germans are working on this horrible thing?"
"We can't. It's well protected in a mountain fortress of solid rock. We would just be wasting bombs and more importantly, aviator lives."
"What is my mission?" Galin asked straightforward without any qualms. If there ever was a time for sacrificing himself the way his friend Sebastion did, now is the time.
Major Dunn leaned over and grabbed a file from the top of his desk. "We dubbed it operation firestorm. You will be the commanding field agent. Your assignment: Get behind enemy lines. Find out just how close the Nazis are to completing this doomsday device and transmit the information back to your contacts with details on locations, fortifications, or any other pertinent facts we will need on destroying it. And..." The major looked downward, hesitant in his briefing.
"And if I must sacrifice myself to destroy this weapon in the event that this thing has progressed further than previous reports stated, then I am to do so. Right!" Galin shot back.
Major Dunn stood erect, picking himself up from his desk and very soberly replied, "Yes, that is correct. You will always be one step from death."
Galin smiled back at the major. "Don't worry sir, I have been prepared to die for the cause of England and victory over Nazi Germany ever since Dunkirk. When do I get started?"
***
Swooping covertly against the back drop of a moonless night, the glider skimmed over tree tops and began its dissent onto German soil. Galin skilfully guided his specially designed craft toward an empty field. This particular glider was better engineered than the ones American commandos used on D-Day. It was small and fast, but also had much finer guidance instrumentation and superior steering capabilities. A high altitude plane took him up twenty thousand feet and let him soar. Galin, with this advanced model, was able to stay aloft, chart a course, and then land some sixty miles from where the tow plane released him.
Stealthily he piloted the "dark eagle," as he named it, way behind enemy lines into the Fatherland. A farm field approached rapidly. If his coordinates were accurate this should be the designated rendezvous spot with a double agent who went by the code name "Guten Junge."
Yes, everything looked good, the description of the landscape, and other identifying factors fed to OSS headquarters by field operatives.
Scrape...scuff....screech... The dark eagle landed. Galin made haste to grab his equipment and evacuate the fiberglass fuselage. He traveled this particular mission light: A complete set of forged German military papers. A regular officer's uniform, an S.S. officers uniform, a Luger, a knife that also had several functions, a compass, Reich currency, and the infamous cyanide pills. Gestapo torture went off the Richter scale in pain.
Scurrying through the dirt rows, he made his way into a cluster of nearby trees. The insurgent nestled down, waiting for the preset signal from his counter part. There it was, a high pitched whipper will sound - three times, then stop; three times, then stop. Galin made his way toward the night bird sounds.
"Guten junge, ja?"
"Save the German. I'm sick of speaking it. Yea, I'm good boy. And you are Galin."
"That's right mate. I'm the willing sucker they pulled out of their hat of tricks for this job. Where to now?"
"Well, the first thing we must do is dismantle and hide your glider in these woods. And then we'll make our way to the safe house. It's about a mile away. I'll introduce you to some of the others involved in this operation."
Upon reaching the hideout, Galin and good boy assembled with the other espionage agents.
"Listen up everyone! This is Galin. The OSS has given him field command status. We are to fill him in on current standings and work out a plan under his direction for acquiring every bit of information needed concerning firestorm. Now introduce yourselves and we'll get to work."
Galin noticed a young woman in her mid twenties as the group of twelve did their rounds of introduction. His eyes locked on to her, she shyly looked away from the good looking agent. He approached her in confidence.
"Connie, I believe you said." Connie nodded and gave a faint smile.
"So how did you manage to get involved in all this danger?"
The female agent slowly warmed up to Galin and shared her story of intrigue and loss by reason of Hitler's Gestapo. Her family, German as they were, never followed or trusted the rantings of Der Fuhrer. The S.S. systematically weeded out all unfaithful Germans and labeled them as traitors to the Third Reich. Connie's family were branded as such. She managed to escape the purge net with the underground's help, then joined them in a series of sabotage and spy work. Galin also discovered that it was good boy and Connie who uncovered the intelligence on Nazi technology focusing more and more on atomic weaponry ever since Allied successes before and after D-Day.
"Sir," the radio operator interrupted, "this coded message just came in from underground G3. It reads:
' Nazi scientists are close to successfully completing weapon project (stop) They
have all necessary components for producing A bomb (stop) plan on detonating first
nuclear explosion on Patton's advancing forces by suicide plane drop within three
weeks or sooner (stop) Rockets are being prepared for massive delivery of atomic
explosions throughout entire theater of Allied operations and England as well. (out)'
Everyone sat dazed for a few minutes at the conclusion of the message.
"Good boy!" Galin quickly boomed. "What do we have on hand to blow that complex?"
"Galin, that facility is better guarded than Hitler's headquarters. It is surrounded by a division of crack S.S. troops, several dozen German Shepherd patrol units, and it is deeply fortified under tons of rock and earth, so a massive air bomb run won't do a thing. And besides, a sabotage operation is going to be useless without tons and tons of TNT."
"Major Dunn already briefed me on the basic fortifications and made it clear that air bombardments were out, but I don't need tons of TNT, or an army to penetrate the complex," Galin shot back. "All I need is small amount of high powered stuff to get a fireball started; and just as important, a way to get my foot in the door. If my guess is correct there is enough high explosive fuels in that place to provide the kind of comprehensive destruction we will need."
"Getting near or in there is still going to be an enormous feat," good boy rejoined.
Just then Connie interrupted. "There may be a way."
Everyone paused their chatter and turned with expectation to hear what Connie may know that the others did not.
"I was able to acquire some of the information we have already assimilated because of a young high level lab technician involved in the project. Someone who happened to take an interest in me. We met accidentally one day in a park several miles away from the complex. His demeanor and personality made it easy for me to gain tid bits of info. We continued to meet secretly and carefully because of Gestapo oversight on all personnel working on the project. I'm pretty sure they were unaware of the relationship. After the successful invasion of Normandy and Allied military advancement, it seemed best, and I was glad, to end the tryst."
Galin read her, as everyone else did. "We must arrange for you to get together with this guy again. He will be our key for gaining access into the compound. Are you willing?"
She nodded yes in her typical quiet way. Her body language signified a willingness for the free world's sake, but a reluctance for any other reason.
The OSS agent expressed some concern about Connie's ability in pulling this double agent stunt off. Good boy took Galin aside and assured him that she would be up to the task, and then added this warning,
"I was going to debrief you on this matter later, but things are starting to move fast now. We also have reliable intelligence on a Gestapo assassin, code name: Blitz-Morder. This lightning killer has a reputation for many kills in the field. He moves like a boa constrictor with cunning as he stalks his target and then strikes with deadly speed."
"So why are you telling me this?" Galin asked impatiently.
"You are his next target. He does not know exactly who you are, or why you're here, he just knows that an Allied agent has been installed in the field. He has been ordered to hunt you down. This is something that you should be wary of in addition to the tighter security measures being implemented across the Reich. Watch your step Galin, this blitz maniac will snare you if you slip. Don't get careless."
It was Galin's turn to nod his head in a reserved manner.
***
Modestly dressed with feminine appeal, Connie sat in the same park on the outskirts of Peenemunde where she first met Kyle. Casually reading poetry, flipping through the pages she patiently waited, hoping that he would happen across her. The wait wasn't long.
"Fraulein Connie, ist das du? Guten tag mein freund......how is it that you are here now? I thought I would never see you again."
Connie became a little nervous. She could sense that Kyle really liked her, and there was an aspect about this whole charade the undercover agent absolutely hated. Quickly overcoming any personal sensitivities she shot back, "Kyle, Oh my! I was wondering if I would see you again."
"My mind has turned back to you over and over again, Connie. I am very pressed for time and must rush back to the lab, so I cannot talk now. Can we dine tonight? I have a nice place I rent in the country. Please say yes."
It's what she feared. The guy is smitten with her. And yet she knew that his attraction for her is the only way this whole operation could go smoothly. "Why yes, of course. I have also thought much about you Kyle. What time should we meet, and where?"
"Let's say around eight thirty, right here. I need to work a little late. The Gestapo and military authorities are pushing us to finish up some finer touches on a vital project that will greatly help our war effort. Would that be good?"
Connie smiled and nodded a happy yes. When he mentioned "the vital project," and knowing what it meant in terms of countless Allied lives, civilian and military, not to mention the outcome of the war, she convinced every last lingering sentimental thought within her that no matter how much Kyle was used or hurt, this operation must succeed. His feelings, and hers, were expendable.
"Good, it is settled then. We'll catch up on what has been going on in each others' life."
***
"Herr General, We only need to do a few more series of lab tests. Then the weapon will be ready for trial."
The S.S. General stared very seriously at the scientists working on the nuclear project and replied, "Good. We will waste no time in making the necessary preparations to put it to trial use in a strategical way. We have scrapped the suicide plane idea and now have several rockets ready to strike deadly blows into the heart of the advancing Allied forces and on England as well. What is the certainty percentage of its success?"
"Herr General, we estimate a success rating of better than 98%."
"That much? Excellent. The Fuhrer will be happy to hear this. There was only an 85% success certainty in the British-Franco offensive of 1940, and that went so well. This is good news indeed, and at such a time when we are in desperate need of good news. You men will be properly rewarded. Carry on."
"Very well General."
***
Galin walked discreetly and very calm down an avenue in Nuremburg. A designated underground agent was assigned to meet him at an outdoor pub called Gute Nacht. He would be a modestly dressed gentleman with a cane, simple and unassuming. Galin found the place easily. As he waited, reading the local newspaper with the rantings of Hitler plastered on just about every page, he noticed a propaganda piece about recent battles, including the operation that he and Sebastion performed nearly three months prior. "Those lying Nazis," he fumed under his breath. His eyes fixed on a paragraph describing the whole event as a major redeployment of German troops, the deliberate destruction of a mountain pass by panzer demolition teams and the capture of cowardly underground agents who were trying to prevent the destruction of the pass. They also tried to spare their lives by bartering information. "Those lying Nazi bastards." This time with a little louder burst. Just then cold beer came spilling down the back of his neck.
"Enntschuldigen sie mich... I am so sorry, sir. please forgive me." The clumsy well dressed gentleman leaned over and whispered into Galin's ear, "Keep your emotions still man. Are you not a professional?"
Galin turned around. Yep, he had a cane. "es ist in ordnung...its alright, alright," Galin said as he stood up.
"Waiter!" the other man called out. "Please bring a towel and a couple of beers. Thank You."
The two clandestine operatives continued their fluent discourse in German.
"Can I pay for the suit I just ruined my friend?"
"Don't worry about it," Galin responded. "Its no big deal. I'll accept your offer for another drink."
"Very good. I see you were angry with the way the Americans and English lie about the war," he said very loud for the waiter and everyone else to hear him.
Galin caught on quick. How stupid letting his emotions betray him so foolishly. "Yeah, who in the world do they think we are. We have the best officers, the best army, and the best weapons in the history of the world. We know the truth on what is happening on the front."
The undercover spy slipped Galin a note written on the inside portion of the napkin he handed to him. "Here my friend, you still have some beer on your shirt." The message gave Galin information on where he would covertly meet up with field operatives who will assist him in the actual firestorm operation. Galin had an adaptable plan in motion that could quickly change, depending on Connie's situation. She already contacted and debriefed these field operatives on current strategies, going ahead of Galin in an effort to connect with her "mark" as soon as possible.
"Danka." Galin bid the man with a cane and added, "I must be going. I have schedules that I must keep." The other man nodded, "Guten tag." Unfortunately Galin and his contact did not convince all witnessing ears that the British agent's earlier exasperation was innocuous. Even though he muttered his anger in the German tongue, and tried to cover the blunder with his following statements praising the Reich, a phone call was placed with the local authorities, who in turn passed the information on to the Gestapo.
***
"Ja, send him in."
The assassin well known for lightning kills walked stone cold into Berlin Gestapo headquarters. Scary is what best described the man. Stone creepy.
"We have word from our offices in Nuremburg on a meeting that took place between two men at a pub. One could be the Allied agent you have been assigned to track down, the other is probably an underground operative. Go find out what you can. Don't kill this agent right away. Find out exactly why he is here, and get as much information from him, by any means, on other spies working inside German territory."
Assassins don't smile. The silent killer nodded with icy eyes and walked out.
***
"More wine Connie. It is the best we have these days. I ordered it just for you. My heart wants to sing and my whole body wants to celebrate."
Kyle let out bursts of joy and laughter. He truly seemed to be in the best of spirits. They both ate a delicious meal, had complete privacy in Kyle's little cottage; and still better, he had a day off tomorrow because certain aspects of his expertise on the project wouldn't be ready until the day after. As a reward for his outstanding work on the "vital project," the lab technician's superiors gave him a raise and other incentives. No wonder the atomic bomb builder felt like popping the cork. And to add more cream on his sundae, he now has someone with whom he can share his good fortune. Someone he really cared about and missed after she left.
"Yes my sweet, please."
Connie determined to play her part well, at any cost. Again she regretted the subterfuge, but quickly dismissed any interfering emotions.
"Tell me my sweet Connie," The words came out with a little inebriated chuckle, "Where are you stationed now? The last time we saw each other you were with the propaganda ministry on classified work around the Peenemunde vicinity. Now you have returned. Is it my good fortune that you will be stationed here for sometime to come?"
"It is to both of our good fortune. I will be here for a whole month, ready to exploit the technology of our Reich in the face of a crushed and surrendered Allied power. I have some inside knowledge, (leaning over and whispering close to his ear) that I'm not really suppose to share with you, but I trust that you will keep my confidence. Our military is about to launch a massive strike on the armies of our enemies with destructive force, and I am assigned to a team who will make sure that the impact is global in a psychological way as much as it will be physical. We of course will accomplish this propaganda through film exploits, documentaries, publications, pictures and..."
Kyle couldn't wait to tell his secret. He didn't let her finish. "Wonderful! Wonderful! We are both working on the same thing in two different ways. I in a technological way, and you in a communicative psychological medium." Leaning over and mimicking her earlier whisper, "And I'm not suppose to be sharing this with you either - It's closer to completion than you think. So we both are in trouble if we don't keep our mouths shut." Another inebriated chuckle.
