First, the drop tanks. Whatever happens, you ditch them into the sea.
Same with the extra radio. After my time is up, of course.
Forty minutes is the time limit, remember that. Forty minutes. '
'Forty minutes I wait.'
'If you have not received my message within that time, the mission has
failed. In that case@' There was a sharp intake of breath from the
pilot, quiet but audible. Hess knew what caused that sound--the
unbanishable fear of death. He felt it too. But for him it was
different. He knew the stakes of the mission, the inestimable strategic
gain that dwarfed the possible loss of two human lives. Like the man in
the pilot's seat, Hess too had a family-a wife and young son. But for a
man in his position-a man so close to the Fuhrer-such things were
luxuries one knew might be lost at any moment. For him death was simply
an obstacle to success that must be avoided at all costs. But for the
man in the pilot's chair ...
'Hauptmann?' Hess said, almost gently.
'Sir?'
'I know what frightens you now. I really do. But there are worse
things than death. Do you understand me? Far worse.'
The pilot's reply was a hoarse, hollow gurgle. Hearing it, Hess decided
that empathy was not the proper motivator for this man. When he next
spoke, his voice brimmed with confidence. 'Dwelling on that is of no
use whatsoever, Hauptmann. The plan is flawless. The important thing
is, have you been studying?'
'Have I been studying!' The captain was obviously relieved to be
talking about something else. 'My God, some iron-assed SS
Brigadefiihrer grilled me for two days straight.'
'Probably Schellenberg.'
'Who?'
'Never mind, Hauptmann. Better that you don't know.'
Silence filled the cockpit as the pilot's mind drifted back to the fate
that awaited him should his special passenger fail.
'Herr Reichminister?' he asked at length.
'Yes?'
'How do you rate your chances of sudcess?'
'It's not in my hands, Hauptmann, so I would be foolish to guess.
It's up to the British now.' My advice is to prepare for the worst,
Hess thought bitterly. The Fuhrer's bankers have been since January.
'Just concentrate on your part of the mission,' he said. 'And for God's
sake, be sure to jump from a high enough altitude to destroy the plane.
It's nothing the British haven't seen before, but there's no need to
make them a present of it. Once you've gotten my message, just jump and
wait until I can get you released. It shouldn't take more than a few
days. If you don't get the message Verdammt! Hess cursed silently.
There's just no avoiding it. His next words cut with the brittle edge
of command. 'If you don't get my message, Hauptmann, you know what must
be done.'
'Jawohl,' the pilot murmured, hoping he sounded more confident than he
felt. He was sickeningly aware of the small, sticky cyanide capsule
taped against his chest. He wondered if he could possibly go through
with this thing that everyone but him seemed to consider simply business
as
usual. said earnestly. 'You
'Listen to me, Hauptmann, ' Hess know why your participation is
necessary. British Intelligence knows I am coming to England ...'
Hess kept talking, trying to fill the emptiness that would give the
pilot too much time to think. Up here, with Germany falling far behind,
the concept of duty seemed much more abstract than it did when one was
surrounded by the reinforcing order of the army and the SS.
The captain seemed sound-and Heydrich had vouched for him-but given
enough time to consider his position, he might do anything.
After all, what sane man wanted to die?
'Cut your speed!' Hess ordered, his voice quickening.
'Hold at 180.'
The miles had melted away before the Messerschmitt's nose. They were a
mere sixty miles off the Scottish coast.
On a clear evening like this, the RAF radar stations would begin to pick
up reflections from the fighter at any moment.
Hess tightened his parachute harness, then set aside his maps and leaned
backward.
'Stay high and clear!' he shouted to the canopy lid. 'Make sure they
see us coming in!'
'Where are you going out?'
'We should make landfall over a place called Holy Island.
I'll jump there. Stay high over the mainland for a few miles, then dive
and run like hell! They'll probably scramble a whole squadron once they
realize what you're flying!'
'Jawohl, ' the pilot acknowledged. 'Herr Reichminister?'
'What is it?'
'Have you ever parachuted before?'
'Nein. Never.'
An ironic laugh cut through the drone of the twin engines.
'What's so funny, Hauptmann?'
'I've never jumped either! That's a pretty significant fact to have
overlooked in the planning of this mission, don't you think?'
Hess permitted himself a wry smile. 'Perhaps that fact was taken into
account, Hauptmann. Some people might even be counting on it.'
'Oh ... my God.'
'It's too late to worry about that now. We don't have the fuel to make
it back to Germany even if we wanted to!'
'What?' the pilot exclaimed. ',But the drop tanks-'
'Are empty!'
Hess finished. 'Or soon will be!'
The pilot felt his stomach turn a somersault. But before he could
puzzle out his passenger's meaning, he spied land below.
'Herr Reichminister! The island! I see it!'
From sixty-five hundred feet Holy Island was a tiny speck, only
distinguishable by the small, bright ribbon separating it from the
mainland. 'And ... a flare. I see a flare!'
