"Destroy? Theres no reason...."

"Oh, but there is. They have proof you hired the Tinamou."

"The Tinamou? Absurd!"

"Not at all. It was your final vengeance, the revenge of tired old men against their enemies. Take my word for it: The proof is irrefutable. I gave it to them."

The old man looked at Johann, his expression filled with revulsion. "Youre obscene."

"About Wolfsschanze!" Von Tiebolt raised his voice. "Where? How? Ill know if you lie."

Falkenheim sank back in the wheelchair. "It doesnt matter now. For either of us. Ill die, and youll be stopped."

"Now it is I who am not interested in your judgments. Wolfsschanze!"

Falkenheim glanced up listlessly. "Althene Clausen," he said quietly. "Heinrich Clausens nearly perfect strategy."

Von Tiebolts face was frozen in astonishment. "Clausens wife?..." He trailed off the words. "You found out about her?"

The old man turned back to Johann. "It wasnt difficult; we had informers everywhere. In New York as well as Berlin. We knew who Mrs. Richard Holcroft was, and because we knew, we sent out orders to protect her. That was the irony: to protect her. Then word came: At the height of the war, while her American husband is at sea, she flies in a private plane to Mexico. From Mexico she goes secretly on to Buenos Aires, where the German embassy takes over and shes flown under diplomatic cover to Lisbon. To Lisbon. Why?"

"Berlin gave you the answer?" asked Von Tiebolt.

"Yes. Our people in the Finanzministerium. Wed learned that extraordinary sums of money were being siphoned out of Germany; it was in our interest not to interfere. Whatever helped cripple the Nazi machine, we sanctioned; peace and sanity would return sooner. But five days after Mrs. Holcroft left New York for Lisbon, by way of Mexico and Buenos Aires, Heinrich Clausen, the genius of the Finanzministerium, flew covertly out of Berlin. He stopped first in Geneva to meet with a banker named Manfredi, then he too went on to Lisbon. We knew he was no defector; above all men, he was a true believer in German-Aryan-supremacy. So much so that he couldnt stomach the flaws in Hitlers ranks of gangsters." Herr Oberst paused. "We made the simple addition. Clausen and his supposedly treasonous former wife in Lisbon together; millions upon millions banked in Switzerland ... and the defeat of Germany now assured. We looked for the deeper meaning and found it in Geneva."

"You read the documents?"

"We read everything from La Grande Banque de Geneve. The price was five hundred thousand Swiss francs."

"To Manfredi?"

"Naturally. He knew who we were; he thought wed believe-and honor-the objectives espoused in those papers. We let him think so. Wolfsschanze! Whose Wolfs-schanze? 'Amends must be made. " Falkenheim spoke the words scathingly. "The thought furthest from any of their minds. That money was to be used to revive the Reich."

"What did you do then?"

The old soldier looked directly at Von Tiebolt. "Returned to Berlin and executed your father, Kessler, and Heinrich Clausen. They never intended to take their own lives; they expected to find sanctuary in South America, oversee their plan, watch it come to fruition. We gave them their pact with death that Clausen wrote so movingly about to his son."

Von Tiebolt fingered the Luger in his hand. "So you learned the secret of Althene Clausen?"

"You spoke of whores. Shes the whore of the world."

"Im surprised you let her live."

"A second irony: We had no choice. With Clausen gone we realized die was the key to Wolfsschanze. Your Wolfsschanze. We knew that she and Clausen had refined every move that was to be made during the coming years. We had to learn; shed never tell us, so we had to watch. When were the millions to be taken from Geneva? How specifically were they to be used? And by whom?"

"The Sonnenkinder," said Von Tiebolt.

The old mans eyes were blank. "What did you say?"

"Never mind. So it was a question of waiting for Althene Clausen to make her move, whatever it might be?"

"Yes, but we learned nothing from her. Ever. As the years went by, we realized she had absorbed her husbands genius. In thirty years she never once betrayed the cause by word or action. One had to admire the sheer discipline. Our first signal came when Manfredi made contact with the son." Falkenheim winced. "The despicable thing is that she consented to the rape of her own child. Holcroft knows nothing."

The blond man laughed. "Youre so out of touch. The renowned Nachrichtendienst is a collection of fools."

"You think so?"

"I know so. You watched the wrong horse in the wrong stable!"

"What?"

"For thirty years your eyes were focused on the one person who knew absolutely nothing. The whore of the world, as you call her, is secure in the knowledge that she and her son are truly part of a great apology. Shes never thought otherwise!" Von Tiebolts laughter echoed off the walls of the room. "That trip to Lisbon," he continued, "was Heinrich Clausens most brilliant manipulation. The contrite sinner turned holy man with a holy cause. It must have been the performance of his life. Even down to his final instructions that she was not to give her instant approval. The son was to see for himself the justness of his martyred fathers cause, and, being convinced, become committed beyond anything in his life." Von Tiebolt leaned against the table, his arms folded, the Luger in his hand. "Dont you see? None of us could do it. The document in Geneva was utterly correct about that. The fortunes stolen by the Third Reich are legendary. There could not be a single connection between that account in Geneva and a true son of Germany."

Falkenheim stared at Johann. "She never knew?..."

"Never! She was the ideal puppet. Even psychologically. The fact that Heinrich Clausen was revealed to be that holy man reaffirmed her confidence in her own judgments. She had married that man, not the Nazi."

"Incredible," whispered Herr Oberst.

"At least that," agreed Von Tiebolt. "She followed his instructions to the letter. Every contingency was considered, including a death certificate for an infant male in a London hospital. All traces to Clausen were obliterated." The blond man laughed again, the sound unnerving. "So you see, youre no match for Wolfsschanze."

"Your Wolfsschanze, not mine." Falkenheim glanced away. "You are to be commended."

Suddenly Von Tiebolt stopped laughing. Something was wrong. It was in the old mans eyes-flashed briefly, clouded, deep within that emaciated skull. "Look at me!" he shouted. "Look at me!"

Falkenheim turned. "What is it?"

"I said something just now ... something you knew about. You knew."

"What are you talking about?"

Von Tiebolt grabbed the old man by the throat. "I spoke of contingencies, of a death certificate! In a London hospital! Youve heard it before!"

"I dont know what you mean." Falkenheims trembling fingers were wrapped around the blond mans wrists, his voice rasping under the pressure of Johanns grip.

"I think you do. Everything Ive just told you shocked you. Or did it? You pretended shock, but youre not shocked. The hospital. The death certificate. You didnt react at all! Youve heard it before!"

"Ive heard nothing," gasped Falkenheim.

"Dont lie to me!" Von Tiebolt whipped the Luger across Herr Obersts face, lacerating the cheek. "Youre not that good anymore. Youre too old. You have lapses! Your brain is atrophied. You pause at the wrong instant, Herr General."

"Youre a maniac...."

"Youre a liar! A poor liar at that. Traitor." Again he struck Herr Oberst in the face with the barrel of the weapon. Blood poured from the open wounds. "You lied about her!... My God, you knew!"

"Nothing ... nothing."

"Yes! Everything! Thats why shes flying to Geneva. I asked myself why." Von Tiebolt struck furiously again; the old mans lip was torn half off his face. "You! In your last desperate attempt to stop us, you reached her! You threatened her ... and in those threats you told her what she never knew!"

"Youre wrong. Wrong."

"No," said Von Tiebolt, suddenly lowering his voice. "Theres no other reason for her to fly to Geneva.... So thats how you think youll stop us. The mother reaches the child and tells him to turn back. Her covenant is a lie."

Falkenheim shook his bloodied head. "No.... Nothing you say is true."

"Its all true, and it answers a last question. If you so dearly wanted to destroy Geneva, all you had to do was let the word go out. Nazi treasure. Claims would be made against it from the Black Sea to the northern Elbe, from Moscow to Paris. But you dont do that. Again, why?" Von Tiebolt bent over farther, inches from the battered face beneath him. "You think you can control Geneva, use the millions as you want them used. 'Amends must be made. Holcroft learns the truth and becomes your soldier, his anger complete, his commitment tripled."

"He will find out," whispered Falkenheim. "Hes better than you; weve both learned that, havent we? You should find satisfaction in that. After all, in his own way, hes a Sonnenkind."

"Sonnen-" Von Tiebolt swung the barrel of his pistol again across Herr Obersts face. "Youre filled with lies. I said the name; you showed nothing."

"Why should I lie now? Operation Sonnenkinder," said Falkenheim. "By ship, and plane, and submarine. Everywhere the children. We never got the lists, but we dont need them. Theyll be stopped when youre stopped. When Genevas stopped."

"For that to happen, Althene Clausen must reach her son. She wont expose Geneva for what it is until shes tried everything else. To do so would destroy her son, let the world know who he is. Shell do anything before she lets that happen. Shell try to reach him quietly. Well stop her."

"Youll be stopped!" said Falkenheim, choking on the blood that flowed over his lips. "Therell be no vast sums dispensed to your Sonnenkinder. We, too, have an army, one youll never know about. Each man will gladly give his life to stop you, expose you."

"Of course, Herr General." The blond man nodded. "The Jews of Har Shaalav."

The words were spoken softly, but they had the effect of a lash on the old mans wounds. "No!..."

"Yes," said Von Tiebolt. " 'Kill me, another will take my place. Kill him, another his. The Jews of Har Shaalav. Indoctrinated by the Nachrichtendienst so thoroughly they became the Nachrichtendienst. The living remains of Auschwitz."

"Youre an animal...." Falkenheims body trembled in a spasm of pain.

"I am Wolfsschanze, the true Wolfsschanze," said the blond man, raising the Luger. "Until you knew the truth, the Jews tried to kill the American, and now the Jews will die. Within the week Har Shaalav will be destroyed, and with it the Nachrichtendienst. Wolfsschanze will triumph."

Von Tiebolt held the gun in front of the old mans head. He fired.

35.

Tears streaked down Heldens cheeks. She cradled the body of Klaus Falkenheim, but could not bring herself to look at the head. Finally, she let go of the corpse and crawled away; filled with horror ... and guilt. She lay curled on the floor, her sobbing uncontrollable. In pain, she pushed herself to the wall, her forehead pressed against the molding, and let the tears pour out. Gradually it became clear to her that her screams and sobs had not been heard. She had come upon the horrible scene alone, and had found signs of the hated ODESSA everywhere: swastikas scratched into wood, scrawled with soap on the window, painted with Falkenheims blood on the floor. Beyond the despicable symbols, the room had been torn apart. Books ripped, shelves broken, furniture slashed; the house had been searched by maniacs. There was nothing left but ruins.

Yet there was something ... not in the house. Outside. In the forest. Helden pressed her hands on the floor and raised herself against the wall, trying desperately to remember the words spoken by Herr Oberst only five mornings ago: If anything should happen to me, you must not panic.... Go alone into the woods where you took me for my brief walk the other day. Do you remember? I asked you to pick up a cluster of wildflowers, as I remained by a tree. I pointed out to you that there was a perfect V formed by the limbs. Go to that tree. Wedged into the branches is a small canister. Inside, there is a message to be read only by you....

Helden pried the small tubular receptacle from its recess and tore open the rubber top. Inside there was a rolled-up piece of paper; attached to it were several bills, each worth ten thousand francs. She removed the money and read the message.

My dearest HELDEN- Time and danger to your person will not permit me to write here what you must know. Three months ago I arranged for you to come to me because I believed you were an arm of an enemy I have waited thirty years to confront. I have come to know you-to love you-and with great relief to understand that you are not part of the horror that might once again be visited upon the world.

Should I be killed, it will mean I have been found out. Further, it will signify that the time is near for the catastrophes to begin. Orders must be relayed to those courageous men who will stand at the final barricade.

You must go alone-I repeat, alone-to Lake Neuchtel, in Switzerland. Dont let anyone follow you. I know you can do this. You have been taught. In the village of Pres-du-Lac there is a man named Werner Gerhardt. Find him. Give him the following message: "The coin of Wolfsschanze has two sides." He will know what to do.

You must go quickly. There is very little time. Again, say nothing to anyone. Raise no alarms. Tell your employers and your friends that you have personal matters in England, a logical statement considering the fact that you lived there for more than five years.

Quickly now, my dearest Helden. To Neuchtel. To Pres-du-Lac. To Werner Gerhardt. Memorize the name and burn this paper.

Godspeed,

HERR OBERST.

Helden leaned against the tree and looked up at the sky. Wisps of thin clouds moved swiftly in an easterly course; the winds were strong. She wished she could be carried by them, and that she did not have to run from point to point, every move a risk, every person she looked at a potential enemy.

Noel had said it would be over soon and she would be able to stop running.

He was wrong.

Holcroft pleaded over the telephone, trying to convince her not to go-at least for another day-but Helden would not be dissuaded. Word had reached her through Gallimard that her sisters personal effects were awaiting her inspection; decisions had to be considered, arrangements made.

"Ill call you in Geneva, my darling. Youll be staying at the dAccord?"

"Yes." What was wrong with her? Shed been so happy, so elated, barely two hours ago. She sounded tense now; her words were clear, but her voice was strained.

"Ill phone you in a day or so. Under the name of Fresca."

"Do you want me to go with you? I dont have to be in Geneva until late tomorrow night. The Kesslers wont get there till ten, your brother even later."

"No, darling. Its a sad trip. Id rather make it alone. Johanns in London now.... Ill try to reach him."

"Youve got some clothes here."

"A dress, a pair of slacks, shoes. Its quicker for me to stop at ... Herr Obersts ... and pick up others more appropriate for Portsmouth."

"Quicker?"

"On the way to the airport. I have to go there, at any rate. My passport, money...."

"I have money," interrupted Noel. "I thought youd been to his place by now."

"Please, darling. Dont be difficult." Heldens voice cracked. "I told you, I stopped at the office."