Robert Ludlum – Rhinemann Exchange

Intelligence probe long since abandoned as negative. It came out of

Johannesburg, South Africa. It had not been proved out, but there was

sufficient evidence to believe that it could be.

High-altitude directional gyroscopes had been perfected. Their designs

could be had.

81

DECEMBER 2,1943

BERLIN, GERMANY

Altmillier sped out of Berlin on the Spandau highway toward Falkensee in

the open Duesenberg. It was early in the morning and the air was cold and

that was good.

He was so exhilarated that he forgave the theatrically secretive ploys of

the Nachrichtendienst, code name for a select unit of the espionage service

known to only a few of the upper-echelon ministers, not to many of the High

Command itself. A Gehlen specialty.

For this reason it never held conferences within Berlin proper; always

outside the city, always in some remote, secluded area or town and even

then in private surroundings, away from. the potentially curious.

The location this morning was Falkensee, twenty-odd miles northwest of

Berlin. The meeting was to take place in a guest house on the estate

belonging to Gregor Strasser.

Altiniffler would have flown to Stalingrad itself if what he’d been led to

believe was true.

The Nachrichtendienst had found the solution for Peenom0ndel

The solution was true; it was up to others to expedite it.

The solution that had eluded teams of ‘negotiators’ sent to all parts of

the world to explore – unearth – prewar ‘relationships! Capetown, Dar es

Salaam, Johannesburg, Buenos Aires….

Failure.

No company, no individual would touch German negotiations. Germany was in

the beginning of a death struggle. It would go down to defeat.

That was the opinion in Zdrich. And what Zilrich held to be true,

international business did not debate.

But the Nachrichtendienst had found another truth.

So he was told.

The Duesenberg’s powerful engine hummed; the car reached high speed; the

passing autumn foliage blurred.

The stone gates of Strasser’s estate came into view on the left, Webrinacht

eagles in bronze above each post. He swung into the

82

long, winding drive and stopped at the gate guarded by two soldiers and

snarling shepherd dogs. Altmfiller thrust his papers at the first guard, who

obviously expected him.

‘Good morning, Herr Unterstaatssekretiir. Please follow the drive to the

right beyond the main house.’

‘Have the others arrived?’

‘They are waiting, sir.’

Altmrdler maneuvered the car past the main house, reached the sloping drive

and slowed down. Beyond the wooded bend was the guest cottage; it looked

more like a hunting lodge than a residence. Heavy dark-brown beams

everywhere; a part of the forest.

In the graveled area were four limousines. He parked and got out, pulling

his tunic down, checking his lapels for lint. He stood erect and started

toward the path to the door.

No names were ever used during a Nachrichtendienst conference; if

identities were known – and certainly they had to be -they were never

referred to in a meeting. One simply addressed his peer by looking at him,

the group by gesture.

There was no long conference table as AltmUller had expected; no formal

seating arrangement by some hidden protocol. Instead, a half dozen

informally dressed men in their fifties and sixties were standing around

the small room with the high Bavarian ceiling, chatting calmly, drinking

coffee. AltmWIer was welcomed as ‘Herr Unterstaatssekretdr’ and told that

the morning’s conference would be short. It would begin with the arrival of

the final expected member.

Altmaller accepted a cup of coffee and tried to fall into the casual

atmosphere. He was unable to do so; he wanted to roar his disapproval and

demand immediate and serious talk. Couldn’t they understand?

But this was the Nachrichtendienst. One didn’t yell; one didn’t demand.

Finally, after what seemed an eternity to his churning stomach, Altmaller

heard an automobile outside the lodge. A few moments later the door opened;

he nearly dropped his cup of coffee. The man who entered was known to him

from the few times he had accompanied Speer to Berchtesgaden. He was the

F”rees valet, but he had no subservient look of a valet now.

Without announcement, the men fell silent. Several sat in armchairs, others

leaned against walls or stayed by the coffee

&3

table. An elderly man in a heavy tweed jacket stood in front of the

fireplace and spoke. He looked at Franz, who remained by himself behind a

leather couch.

‘There is no reason for lengthy discussions. We believe we have the

information you seek. I say “believe,” for we gather information, we do not

act upon it. The ministry may not care to act.’

‘That would seem inconceivable to me,’ said Altrafiller.

‘Very well. Several questions then. So there is no conflict, no

misrepresentation.’ The old man paused and lit a thick meerschaum pipe.

‘You have exhausted all normal Intelligence channels? Through Zihich and

LisbonT

‘We have. And in numerous other locations – occupied, enemy and neutral.’

‘I was referring to the acknowledged conduits, Swiss, Scandinavian and

Portuguese, primarily!

‘We made no concentrated efforts in the Scandinavian countries. Herr Zangen

did not think . . .’

‘No names, please. Except in the area of Intelligence confrontation or

public knowledge. Use governmental descriptions, if you like. Not

individuals.’

‘The Reichsamt of Industry – which has continuous dealings in the Baltic

areas -was convinced there was nothing to be gained there. I assume the

reasons were geographical. There are no diamonds in the Baltic!

‘Or they’ve been burnt too often,’ said a nondescript middleaged man below

AltmOller on the leather sofa. ‘If you want London and Washington to know

what you’re doing before you do it, deal with the Scandinavians.’

‘An accurate analysis,’ concurred another member of the Nachrichtendienst,

this one standing by the coffee table, cup in hand. ‘I returned from

Stockholm last week. We can’t trust even those who publicly endorse us.’

‘Those least of all,’ said the old man in front of the fireplace, smiling

and returning his eyes to Franz. ‘We gather you’ve made substantial offers?

In Swiss currency, of course.’

‘Substantial is a modest term for the figures we’ve spoken of,’ replied

Altmfiller. ‘I’ll be frank. No one will touch us. Those who could,

subscribe to Zfirich’s judgment that we shall be defeated. They fear

retribution; they even speak of postwar bank deposit reclamations.’

84

‘If such whispers reach the High Command there’ll be a panic.’ The

statement was made humorously by the Fiffirees valet, sitting in an

armchair. The spokesman by the fireplace continued.

‘So you must eliminate money as an incentive … even extraordinary sums of

money.’

‘The negotiating teams were not successful. You know that.’ Altmifller had

to suppress his irritation. Why didn’t they get to the point?

‘And there are no ideologically motivated defectors on the horizon.

Certainly none who have access to industrial diarnonds.’

‘Obviously, mein Herr.’

‘So you must look for another motive. Another incentive.’

‘I fail to see the point of this. I was told . . .’

‘You will,’ interrupted the old man, tapping his pipe on the mantel. ‘You

see, we’ve uncovered a panic as great as yours.

. . The enemy’s panic. We’ve found the most logical motive for ~l concerned.

Each side possesses the other’s solution!

Franz Altmilller was suddenly afraid. He could not be sure he fully

understood the spokesman’s implications. ‘What are you saying?’

‘Peenemilnde has perfected a high-altitude, directional guidance system, is

this correct?’

‘Certainly. Indigenous to the basic operation of the rockets.’

‘But there’ll be no rockets – or at best, a pitiful few – without shipments

of industrial diamonds.’

‘Obviously.’

‘There are business interests in the United States who face insurmountable

. . .,’ the old man paused for precisely one second and continued,

6insurtnountable problems that can only be resolved by the acquisition of

functional high-altitude gyroscopes.’

‘Are you suggesting . .

‘The Nachrichtendienst does not suggest, Herr Unterstaatssekret4r. We say

what is.’ The spokesman removed the meerschaum from his lips. ‘When the

occasion warrants, we transmit concrete information to diverse recipients.

Again, only what is. We did so in Johannesburg. When the man I. G. Farben

sent in to purchase diamonds from the Koeni.ng mines met with failure, we

stepped in and confirmed a long-standing Intelligence probe we knew would

be carried back to Washington. Our agents in

85

California had apprised us of the crisis in the aircraft industry. We

believe the timing was propitious.’

‘I’m not sure I understand …..

‘Unless we’re mistaken, an attempt will be made to reestablish contact with

one of the Farben men. We assume contingencies were made for such

possibilities.’

‘Of course. Geneva. The acknowledged conduits.’

‘Then our business with you is concluded, sir. May we wish you a pleasant

drive back to Berlin.’

DECEMBER 2,1943

FAIRFAX, VIRGINIA

The interior of the Quonset belied its stark outside. To begin with, it was

five times larger than the usual Quonset structure, and its metal casing

was insulated with a sound-absorbing material that swept seamless down from

the high ceiling. The appearance was not so much that of an airplane hangar

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