Pursuit Read Free Page B

think?”
    â€œIt makes sense,” von Schraeder said noncommittally, and thought what an optimistic idiot Willi Gehrmann was, indeed! If Valkyrie was successful, if Klaus Stauffenberg did his job, would it really make any great difference as far as he and the others in his position were concerned? Of course it would do no harm to wait and see the outcome of the Valkyrie plan, but in general he suspected it was an idle dream. If the Allies were offered a total surrender with the condition of total amnesty, and countered with an acceptance of the surrender, but still demanded their pound of flesh, would Beck, or Olbricht, or Goerdeler hesitate for one split second to accept? Would they jeopardize a peace they felt essential in order to save the lives of SS officers they themselves would have been happy to hang? It was insanity to think so for a moment.
    Willi was speaking a bit more rapidly, as he felt he was losing the attention of his audience.
    â€œIn any event, there is always the plan the Group proposed today.” He looked up at von Schraeder. “You know, your fingerprint file and records were among the first to be dug out and destroyed. We’ve gotten them all, I’m sure.” His glance traveled to von Schraeder’s bare hands, and he grinned. “So if you rob a bank, be sure and wear your gloves.”
    Von Schraeder gave the required smile. “I shall do that.” He stopped and held up his hand; his car drew up instantly, his driver out of his seat in a moment, holding open the door. “I really must go, Willi. I have a long drive ahead of me both today and tomorrow.”
    Willi leaned in the open window as the driver climbed back into his seat. The stocky major spoke in a low voice, sure that the sergeant could not hear him through the glass partition.
    â€œBut in any event there’s no need to worry, Helmut,” he said quietly. “Between Valkyrie and the Group here today, we—you’ve—two strings to your bow.” He stepped back, gave a half salute, and watched as the car pulled away.
    In the rear seat of the car, von Schraeder leaned back, fitting a cigarette into his holder, smiling to himself. One string, he thought with satisfaction; only one string to my bow, but it is neither as frayed as the Strasbourg Group, nor as gossamer as Valkyrie. It is my own string, which, in any event, is the only string anyone can ever depend upon.

Chapter 2
    Beneath the wings of the small spotter plane, the Polish landscape spread to the city of Lublin a few miles to the west. The pilot checked his map. There was the village of Dsiesiata, there the villages of Kalinowka and Abramowicz, all clearly identifiable. There was the Cholm Road, and alongside it, only a mile or so from Lublin, was an obvious suburb noted on his map as Maidanek, and—not noted on his map—a sprawling encampment of some sort. From the height of the droning plane the barracks-like buildings looked like a vast arrangement of children’s blocks. Black smoke billowed from a tall square stack rising at the extreme end of the encampment, dissipating itself over the tilled fields beyond.
    There was a sudden chatter of machine-gun fire from one of the watchtowers set at regular intervals about the encampment; other guns joined in instantly. The small reconnaissance plane banked almost insolently and drifted off to the east. Inside the cockpit the observer made a note of the strange buildings and its armed watchtowers, and then shrugged as he slid his pencil back into his jacket-sleeve pocket. Whatever it was, they would find out fairly soon. Their troops were less than a hundred and fifty miles from Lublin.
    In the area outside the command post barrack, Colonel von Schraeder, deputy commandant of the encampment, paused to study the disappearing plane with a frown. His eyes narrowed as he considered the ease with which the small reconnaissance plane had penetrated the area. He had been back