Final impact

“Good. Be sure that it is.” Himmler pulled himself upright to his full height. He hardened his voice and pitched it to carry to the back of the room. “As terrible as was the weapon that destroyed the garrison at Lodz,” he said, “we shall stop the Bolsheviks dead in their tracks. Quite literally. In conjunction with Japan, we have developed a biological weapon, a form of anthrax that can be fired from an artillery shell. We possess a sufficient quantity to seal our eastern borders.”

He noted anyone who looked unreasonably horrified by the prospect. If they could not be trusted, then, like Reichsmarschall Gцring, they might need to be dealt with.

“I will not lie to you,” he declared. “We are in desperate straits. As radical and, I admit, as dangerous as our strategy in the east will be, it is only half of the picture. There is still the Western Front to be considered. Zeitzler!”

The army chief of staff came rigidly to attention this time. “Mein Fuhrer!”

“I am ordering you to execute Plan Orange. Pull all forces back to the Rhine defenses immediately. Leave such elements there as are necessary to secure that front for two months, and transfer the balance to the east. Release the strategic reserve to join them.”

“Yes, Mein Fuhrer.”

Stillness, then. Nobody moved or said a word.

Himmler allowed himself the briefest of interludes to enjoy the feeling of absolute power that was gathering around him, before the bleak realities of the situation made themselves felt again. There was just one more thing to say.

“We have made mistakes. Myself. All of us. Even our former leader. We can no longer afford mistakes. I am not a military genius. If any of you have concerns about this plan, I need to hear of them within the next twenty-four hours. The Reich is depending on us. The world is depending on us.”

A Luftwaffe general, Helmut Lippert, stepped forward nervously. “Mein Fuhrer. Reichsmarschall Gцring was escorted from here some time ago. Will he be coordinating Luftwaffe deployments for-”

Himmler shook his head. “The only thing Gцring will be coordinating is his defense before a people’s court. You are now the acting chief of the Luftwaffe, Herr General. Give yourself six hours to prepare a brief for me on what forces you have available to meet the Communists. And I want the truth, Lippert. No matter how unpalatable it may seem.”

Himmler allowed a genuine smile to creep across his face for the first time in days. “Blame the bad news on Gцring, if you wish. It’s probably his fault anyway.”

Lippert’s rubber-faced anguish was almost too much to bear.

“It’s a joke, Herr General. You may smile.”

The new Luftwaffe chief laughed weakly.

“Excellent,” Himmler said. “A cheerful disposition can be worth an entire battalion at the right moment. Is that not so, Lippert?”

“Yes, Mein Fuhrer.”

22

D-DAY + 36. 9 JUNE 1944. 0020 HOURS.

HMAS HAVOC, SEA OF OKHOTSK.

It reminded Willet of the Straits of Taiwan, although it probably wasn’t as bad as all that. At least she didn’t have three Chinese Warbows on her case. And she did have considerably more wiggle room in the waters between Sakhalin and the Kuril Islands.

But the sheer volume of traffic-all of it hostile, as far as she was concerned-was very much like the three weeks she’d spent as a quietly terrified middy on the old Dechaineux during the Taiwanese War of Independence. Although the hundreds of Soviet warcraft churning the waters above her were nominally Allied ships, Willet didn’t doubt for a moment that they’d turn their weapons on her if she was detected.

“Easy does it, helm,” she said softly.

While the Havoc’s stealth systems rendered her invisible to the Soviets, she had insisted that they run as silently as if they were sitting off a Chinese port back in twenty-one. Her combat center was still and hushed. Indeed, she could feel the stillness of the boat all around her.

The Havoc was unique among the surviving 21C craft in that no ’temps sailed on her. At various times, back in her home waters, she’d hosted visitors from the contemporary Allied navies as well as the occasional politician. But when she loaded up with retrofitted handmade Mark 48 torpedoes and headed out looking for trouble, she always did so with her original crew.