Hello all!
I guess I should state for the record here that there never was such a thing as the MG-43 machine gun. It's all part of my imagination. The German's used the MG-42 throughout the war (well, from 1942 to the end) with devastating success and the modern-day machine guns used by the US military are the same basic MG-42 design. I know, I know, I never thought I'd know this much about machine guns either, and yet, here we are! :) Enjoy!
Half an hour later, clothed in more casual attire, Scott and Betty crept down a hallway that was only sparsely illuminated by electric light. Shadows loomed upon them from the arched ceiling like ghostly fingers and the muted strains of the violin at the ball called to them so softly and forlornly that they might have been produced by musicians that had long since departed this life for the next. Betty shivered in the gloom and pressed closer to Scott, the otherworldly music making her pensive. He squeezed her hand in sympathy as he led the way down the hall, hoping he was acting a lot more fearless than he felt.
"Here it is," he breathed, reaching out to test the door.
Betty gave a heartfelt sigh of relief as he took out a lockpick and went to work. "Good. I was beginning to think this was one of those nightmares with the neverending hallway. You know the kind where you run and run and you never get anywhere, but there's a monster chasing you, and he runs twice as fast, and he's always gaining, and no matter how hard you try, you can't get away..."
The look Scott gave her caught her up short.
She grimaced. "Sorry. Sometimes when I'm nervous, I tend to ramble."
His face softened. "That's okay." The lock suddenly sprang free. "We're in," he announced unnecesarily.
"Great." Betty made an effort to pretend that breaking and entering was an everyday part of her life.
"This afternoon, Konig took the plans out of a secret compartment in his desk, you know, kind of like the one in Victor's desk back at WENN," Scott explained as he crossed the room to stand behind the ancient oak furniture. "Now which drawer?" he murmurred thoughtfully.
Her forehead wrinkled in confusion. "How did you know about the secret compartment in Victor's desk?"
He paused in his search long enough to give her a surprised glance. "Did you really think I could use that desk all those months and not find that?"
She acknowledged the admission with a shrug. Apparently that secret compartment was the worst kept secret at WENN. Betty watched as he opened one drawer after another before a new thought chilled her. "Scott, what if the plans aren't here? Konig may have given them to his assistant already."
Scott denied the possibility. "I saw him put them back in a drawer, and he said his assistant was busy with party preparations and couldn't start...Aha!"
Scott pressed an innocuous-looking knot in the bottom of one of the drawers and the false bottom sprang open, revealing the plans, just as Konig had left them hours earlier. Scott wasted no time in collecting them, then folding them neatly and tucking them into the waistband of his pants. He took Betty firmly by the arm and started leading the way out of the room.
"C'mon, let's get out of here before..." He left the sentence unfinished, silencing her with a finger to his lips when she would have questioned him.
Betty heard it then, too, the unmistakable sounds of two men approaching Konig's office, their voices raised in friendly banter. Betty looked frantically at Scott, silently asking what they should do. After a quick glance around the darkened office, Scott guided her toward the heavy red velvet draperies that concealed the balcony doors and they hid themselves behind the folds, hoping against hope that the voices would continue down the passageway and not follow them into Konig's office.
The sound of a key scraping in the lock dashed that hope and Betty found herself afraid to breathe for fear of discovery.
"Strange, I don't think it was locked," Konig, sounding mystified, said as he came through the opening.
"You'll have to fire that assistant of yours," another voice answered. "He's entered his dotage, and that could be dangerous for both of you."
Scott and Betty looked at each other sharply and though it was so dark behind the draperies they couldn't read each other's expression clearly, they both knew what the other was thinking. He sounded different when he spoke German, but there was no mistaking the arrogance of that voice.
"No, I'm certain that I was the last out and that I checked the lock," Konig persisted.
"How much have you had to drink tonight, cousin?" Alex mocked before his smug chuckle caused the skin on Betty's arms to crawl.
"Not nearly enough," Konig responded jocularly. Scott could almost feel the manly dig to the ribs the Nazi would give to his young cousin. "Which is why I think we should celebrate our reunion with a drink."
"An excellent notion." The words were followed by the sound of air being compressed from a cushion as Alex flopped into one of the expensive leather armchairs.
Crystal clinked against crystal and the sound of a drink being poured accompanied Konig's next speech. "So you've come from Berlin. Tell me, how was your debriefing?" Scott and Betty listened as Konig settled in the armchair across from Alex.
"Quite successful. The Reich was pleased with the progress I made in the British operation, and are anxious to find a similar occupation for me again. Which, I made sure to tell them, I would be only too happy to accept." Scott shifted uncomfortably, wishing Gustav could have killed Alex when he had the chance.
"But first you must heal from your wound," Walter pointed out.
"Bah, it's nothing," Alex dismissed the consideration. "I'll be as good as new in no time. And you, Walter, have you gotten anywhere with your pet project?"
Betty cringed at the rich satisfaction evident in Konig's reply. "I have found investors who have promised more than I could have dreamed. Before long, we'll be producing the weapon of the future, and the name of Konig will be revered as the savior of the new Germany."
"Let's drink to that!" Alex suggested. "But first, you must refill my glass."
Crystal clinked again and liquid poured into two glasses before they heard both men swallow. Betty took the chance of casting Scott a helpless look. Had the two men settled in for the night?
Scott and Betty waited silently but impatiently through two more glasses of alcohol and two increasingly inebriated toasts before Alex spoke of anything of importance.
"So who are these most generous benefactors?" he asked, the words running together a little.
"They are the Boudins from Geneva, and their sympathies run a bit more to the Nazi side of things than their government would like. The man is all right, he's funding my project, after all, but the wife...ahh, my dear cousin," Konig's voice trailed off on a dreamy sigh and the hair on the back of Scott's neck prickled.
Alex gave a knowing bark of laughter. "You'd like to add her to your collection, am I right?"
"Yes, and I would have already done just that if it wasn't for one thing." Konig's frustration was obvious.
"What's that?" his cousin questioned. "I've never known anything to stand in your way where a woman is concerned."
"This woman is devoted to her husband!" The statement exploded from Konig. "Can you imagine? In this day and age?"
Laughter rolled from both men in waves before Alex was capable of speaking again.
"Alas, I can imagine it only too well, Walter. There was a woman I worked with during my British operation whom I tried to bring over to our side just before I was forced to give up my mission. She was unaccountably attached to this American husband of hers," the derisive note in his voice was basely insulting, "and she wouldn't leave him or her outmoded ideas of freedom and democracy for anything. Where have all the good women gone?" Alex lamented.
"The last of them was my great-grandmother, and she's buried under the oak next to the last of the great men, excluding the Fuhrer, of course," Konig added hastily.
"Of course," Alex agreed with alcohol-exaggerated enthusiasm. "And we should drink a toast to them both. As soon as you fill my glass."
"Indeed," Konig agreed heartily before inspiration struck. "But let's not do it here. We'll drink our toast under the branches of the oak. No, not that way," Konig protested as they both raised dizzily from their chairs. "We can leave through the balcony doors, it's much closer."
"Cousin," enjoined Alex drunkenly, "I begin to see why you are a leader in politics and industry. You are confined by nothing."
"I'll drink to that!" Walter announced. "But I'll probably do it outside."
Scott knew discovery was imminent, but the knowledged did nothing to dispel the jolting shock he felt as he watched two hands reach into the middle break in the curtains. He was trapped on one side, Betty on the other, and there was no way for them to avoid being seen, no story that could possibly bluff their way out of this one. Both sides of the drapes were flung aside simultaneously and the Nazis gave twin gasps of surprise.
"Herr Boudin!" Konig practically shouted.
"Betty!" Alex, thunderstruck, stared at her as if she were an apparitition.
The men looked from Scott to Betty and back again in drunken astonishment.
"We were just out for an evening stroll," Scott extemporized with a smile, "and thought we'd take a shortcut back to our room. Lucky for us this door was unlocked." He reached behind his back and tried to demonstrate the easily-opened door, only to find it as immobile as the rock of Gibraltar.
"Nice try, Scotty," Alex praised with mocking admiration. "But you need a key for that lock."
"Scotty? What is this Scotty?" Konig demanded, growing more confused by the moment.
"Oh, nothing, Walter," Alex flapped an unconcerned hand. "Unless you count as important the fact that you very nearly gave a full set of plans for the MG-43 to a couple of Allied spies."
"Allied spies?" Konig shook his head to clear it, one hand massaging his forehead. "They are not the Boudins from Geneva?"
Alex's bark of laughter flayed Betty's nerves. He drew himself up to his full height, his arms crossing arrogantly over his chest. He spoke as though he were reciting a history lesson for a teacher.
"They are Scott and Betty Sherwood of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania in the United States of America. Both employed at radio station WENN before being recruited as part of General Hopkins' spy network in London. They have been responsible for the loss of many German lives, and I'm sure the reward for their deaths will be great." His pale blue eyes mocked Betty coldly, and she ignored the shiver of fear that worked on her spine while concentrating instead on glaring up at him defiantly. She felt better, though, when Scott's hand crept into hers.
"Swindled!" The single word burst from Konig explosively. "I've been swindled at the expense of the Reich! How will my weapons be made now?" he wailed.
"Don't whine!" Alex ordered sharply, traces of his earlier inebriation rapidly evaporating. "We'll present these two to the local Gestapo in the morning. Their capture will bring us under the scrutiny of the high command and as a reward, they'll test your new weapon and produce it themselves."
"Excellent. Excellent!" Konig rubbed his hands together greedily. "Well, this has turned out even better than my original plan. I hope this has been a lesson to you two," he continued pompously. "The Third Reich is invincible. Victory is not only imminent, but inevitable. The sooner you and all your misguided friends realize that, the better for all. A pity you won't have the chance to share your lessons with them."
"Indeed," Alex drawled lazily. "And a pity we won't have more time together, Betty dear. I always did fancy you." He regarded her thoughtfully for a moment before turning back to Konig and shrugging the momentary regret aside. "Have you any rope, Walter? We'll need to get these two settled for the night."
Konig rummaged quickly through his desk. "This twine will do. It's a sturdy fiber if we wrap it several times."
"Fine," Alex agreed with a curt nod. He drew his gun from a shoulder holster. "Now, move over here," he indicated a direction by brandishing the gun.
"You won't get away with this," Scott threatened darkly. "We didn't come here alone. Our allies will be here before you can call the Gestapo."
"Scott, you never will give up your con man ways, will you?" Alex looked at him pityingly. "I know how Hopkins' system works. You're alone. No one around for a thousand miles whom you can trust. It'll be weeks before he can guess what's happened to you and learn that his little ruse to learn my cousin's secrets has failed. Now sit."
Alex had arranged two straight-backed wooden chairs back to back as he spoke. He grabbed Betty roughly by the arm and shoved her into one. Scott lunged at him, but Alex was quick and soon had the gun aimed at Scott's chest.
Alex's tongue clucked accusatorily. "That is a very bad idea, Mr. Sherwood. Just hand me the plans and take your seat."
"What plans?" Scott asked, empty hands spread innocently.
Konig dealt him a vicious blow to the back of the neck and Scott dropped to his knees. Betty twisted around in her chair to see what had happened, stifling an exclamation behind her hand. The betraying crackle of paper as Scott moved gave his secret away and Konig had soon plucked the plans away from the other man.
"These plans," he answered grimly. "I don't appreciate being made a fool of, Sherwood."
"But you make it so easy," Scott observed wryly, the comment earning him a kick in the abdomen.
"Stop it!" Betty pleaded. "Leave him alone. You have what you want."
"Do we?" Alex knelt in front of her chair, brought his pistol up until Betty felt the cold metal against her cheek. "I think you're wrong. But we'll change that. The balance of power has altered, Betty. You're on our turf now. Tie them up," he ordered his cousin as he gained his feet once more.
Konig complied, taking relish in the task as the whiplike twine bit into the flesh of his victims. Betty hissed in a pained cry and Scott couldn't hold in a protest any longer.
"Take it easy, Walter. The Gestapo likes to do its own toruring," he reminded the Nazi.
"A fact which I'm sure will be reinforced for you in just a few hours time," Konig answered. "Rest up, I have a feeling it will be your last chance for quite some time."
Alex followed his cousin to the door of the office. "So long, Sherwoods. We'll be back in the morning." The warning in his voice was as unmistakably menacing as the laughter that rang in the hall as the two men left them alone.
Betty couldn't stop herself from sniffling, just a little, and Scott tried to twist around in his chair to comfort her.
"Hey, don't do that," he said soothingly. "This isn't over yet. I've been in plenty of worse spots than this."
"Name one," Betty challenged him.
Scott felt every second of a lengthy pause. "I can't think of one right now because I'm thinking so hard about how to get out of this one. But I promise as soon as we get out of here, I'll be able to name at least a half dozen."
"I'm going to hold you to that promise, Scott." She still sounded dejected he noted, but at least there wasn't any danger of tears.
"You do that. You know, we haven't even tried to get out of here yet and we have a few hours before anyone comes back. We'll be long gone before they do." He started to struggle agains the twine as he spoke, wincing as the fibers cut more deeply into his wrists. "What I wouldn't give for a pocket knife right now."
"Even if you had one, how would you use it?" Betty asked with a little laugh. "With your teeth?"
"Maybe," Scott acknowledged the possiblity with a chuckle as he continued to work at their bonds, feeling her hands working on her own simultaneously. "Or wouldn't it be nice if this was a radio drama and we had a whole week to figure a way out of this mess? You could write us a loophole somewhere."
"I wish I could," Betty agreed. "I don't seem to be getting anywhere with these."
"Neither do I." Scott paused in the struggle for a moment to rest and rethink the possibilities but his thoughts all seemed a little morbid. "Betty, if anything happens to me, I want you to know that, you and Scotty, you're everything to me." He felt her fingers close over his for a moment, wished he could see her face.
"I know," she said softly. "You're the same to us."
Silence dropped over them and the smile that curved Scott's mouth was uncharacteristically sad.
His hands started picking at knots with renewed energy. "I think if I can just work some of these a little bit looser..." His voice trailed off as he focused on the task.
"You'll never get out that way," a soft voice called from the doorway.
Scott felt Betty's hands stiffen.
"Well, it would go a lot quicker if you'd just cut us loose," Scott returned dryly.
"I intend to," Elsa confirmed coolly.
"Is this a joke?" Betty sounded as incredulous as Scott felt.
Elsa's snort was anything but ladylike. "Hardly. It may come as a shock to you, but not all Germans are evil incarnate, and a lot of us don't agree with Hitler."
"You don't?" Scott knew he was gaping rudely, but his surprise was a little difficult to overcome.
"Have you read The Scarlet Pimpernel?" was Elsa's next unexpected comment.
Scott wrinkled his forehead in distaste, but Betty was ready with a prompt "Yes."
"Then you may have some idea of the role I play here," Elsa said as she knelt next to them, wielding a pair of scissors skillfully. "I play the charming and harmless tippler. Too drunk to be anything but ineffectual and shallow, just another pawn in Hitler's enormous chess game. It's a marvellous cover. You two should try it sometime."
"So it's all an act," Betty exclaimed as her hands at last came free and she tried to rub circulation back into them. "People talk in front of you because they assume you're not alert enough to comprehend their conversation."
Elsa nodded as she finished with Scott's bonds. "And when that doesn't work, I listen at keyholes. That's what I was doing this evening, and it's a lucky thing I was, too."
"So, you're part of some German resistance movement?" Scott guessed.
"Yes," Elsa proclaimed proudly. "There are many more like me involved in the resistance, and many others who don't believe in Hitler, but are too afraid to join our group. It's easier for me. I'm in a prime position and am well-protected, not only by my husband's power, but also his zealousness in service to the Fuhrer."
"How do you do it?" Betty asked wonderingly. "The pressure..."
"Is nothing compared to the horror the world would become if Hitler goes unopposed," Elsa finished. "Which is why I have taken the trouble of bringing you these." From the folds of a loose jacket, she produced several carefully folded pages, which she handed to Scott.
"The plans," he exlaimed. "How did you get them from your husband?"
"I didn't," Elsa returned smugly. "This is my own copy that I was going to send through my own channels. Now that you're here, you can take them and get them to where they'll do the most good much more quickly than I could."
"But how can we get away?" Betty questioned her. "Even if we get out of the house, Walter will radio ahead and have us stopped at the border."
Elsa's confident smile was reassuring. "Have faith, my dear. I've taken care of everything. I slipped a little something extra into both Walter's and Alex's drinks when they returned to the ball. Within a half hour they'll be asleep until at least...oh, how does noon tomorrow sound to you?"
Scott's grin was bright enough to light up the entire gloomy house. "Perfect."
"Good. Now, I'm afraid you have an uncomfortable night ahead of you. It's too dangerous to stay here, so you'll have to stay in the forest near the train station. Outside on the balcony, you'll find your bags and some blankets that I'm sure you'll need tonight. The train leaves at five this morning. Be on it without fail. If you're not, I cannot guarantee your safety. I dare not sabotage the car or Walter's radio because that would look too suspicious." Elsa ushered them briskly toward the balcony doors and reached out to unlock them.
"Elsa, we would have failed if it hadn't been for you. How can we ever thank you?" Betty's eyes glowed with gratitude as she embraced the other woman.
"Just get those plans to the Allies and win the war. That's all anyone can ask." Elsa's eyes sparkled with humor. "Now go, and God be with you." Quickly, she pulled the doors closed and drew the curtains, leaving Scott and Betty alone in the moonlight.
Inside, Elsa concealed her scissors in her pocket and with a secret, satisfied smile, left the room, carefully locking the door behind her.
Our Mutual Spy
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