W E B Griffin – Men at War 2 – Secret Warriors

“He’s a policeman,” von Heurten-Mitnitz said.

“Nothing shocks him.”

“Motivate, then,” Murphy said.

“What would it take to motivate him? “Money,” von Heurten-Mitnitz said.

“A good deal of money.”

“That’s been thought of,” Murphy said. He took two envelopes from his jacket pocket.

“There’s mixed currency in each of these,” he said.

“Mostly Swiss francs, some Reichsmarks, some dollars, some pounds, altogether about twenty-five thousand dollars’ worth.” Von Heurten-Mitnitz looked at them as if they were dog droppings. “We wanted to make sure that you had cash available in case the need arose,” Murphy said quickly.

“Hence the envelope for you.” Von Heurten-Mitnitz looked closely at Murphy. “But you wouldn’t have blinked an eye, would you, Mr. Murphy, if I had said that wasn’t nearly enough to buy me.”

“I never believed you were for sale, Herr von Heurten-Mitnitz, ” Murphy said. “I have no choice but to take your word for that, do I?”

“You have my word,” Murphy said. “I will give Milffer one envelope,” von Heurten-Mitnitz said. “And retain the other, should I need it.

Afterward I will give you a precise accounting.”

“That’s not necessary,” Murphy said. “Yes, it is, Mr. Murphy,” von Heurten-Mitnitz said.

“To me, it is necessary.”

“I was about to say I understand how you feel. But that wouldn’t be true.”

“Pray you never find yourself in my situation, Mr. Murphy,” von Heurten-Mitnitz said. Their eyes met for a moment, then von Heurten-Mitnitz looked away. “There was something symbolic about your twenty-five thousand pieces of assorted silver,” von Heurten-Mitnitz said.

“I presume that now you will tell me just what you want from me.”

“I didn’t look at the money that way,” Murphy said. “Perhaps because it is written in Scripture that it is more blessed to give than receive,” the German aristocrat said dryly.

“I wonder how Putzi is being paid.”

“He’s not,” Murphy said.

“Roosevelt, by executive order, exempted his art gallery from seizure under the Enemy Property Act.”

“I’m surprised Putzi permitted him to do that.” Murphy didn’t reply.

“I really am curious what specifically you want from me,” von Heurten-Mitnitz said.

“Presumably it has to do with the invasion of North Africa.

“What makes you think we’re going to invade North Africa?” Murphy asked.

“Roosevelt made that clear when he abandoned the Philippine Islands.

The major thrust of the American effort will first be against Germany.

That leaves the question where,” von Heurten-Mitnitz said.

“I doubt, despite the enormous effort being made by Roosevelt to turn Joseph Stalin into Friendly Uncle Joe, that the American people would stand for sending American troops to fight in Russia. Not the Balkans, certainly, after Churchill’s Gallipoli debacle’ in the First War. Not the Continent itself, not yet. Where, then, else?”

“Have you heard anything?” Murphy asked, poker-faced. “Conjecture,” von Heurten-Mitnitz said.

“Nothing specific. The French doubt that you are capable of attacking sovereign French soil with the forces you presently have in England even if you would dare try it. They also do not believe you are capable of launching an invasion force across the Atlantic directly from the United States. I do.”

“Well,” Murphy said, seeing his opportunity, “since we are not, so far as I know, about to invade North Africa, where we think you could help is not connected with any such invasion.”

“Then what?” von Heurten-Mitnitz asked. “FEG is developing a jet engine for aircraft,” Murphy said. “We have to have a set of authentic specifications and, if we can get it, an actual engine. “Frankly, that’s not what I expected,” von Heurten-Mitnitz replied and then added wryly, “Fulmar Elektrische Gesellschaft, the ubiquitous young Mr. Fulmar.”

“From what he says, I don’t think he’ll be much help in this. I gather he is not the apple of his father’s eye.”

“Hardly,” von Heurten-Mitnitz agreed.

“I should think that getting the plans would be virtually impossible.

I can’t imagine they’d be left anywhere where anyone could get to them, and I daresay the plans for an aircraft engine would not fit in a valise.

“In April 1915, in a plan devised by Winston Churchill, then First Lord of the Admiralty, fifteen British Commonwealth divisions were landed at Gallipoli with the intention of capturing Constantinople and forcing the Dardanelles Channel. After suffering 213,980 casualties, the force was soundly defeated by the Turks and withdrawn. Churchill was forced to resign as First Lord, and went to France to command a battalion of infantry in the trenches.

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