Michael J. Goodspeed

Our Only Shield


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changes things substantially for us.”

      Rory merely nodded.

      “You don’t seem surprised by any of this,” said Harris with a note of suspicion. “What do you make of the news?”

      “I don’t think anyone predicted it would happen like you’ve described. Nobody expected they’d go after Scandinavia first. But there’s no question now. Hitler’s going to attack France and Britain next. For now, the Russians get a by.”

      “I think you’re right. In fact, no news to you, a lot of the work that your group has been preparing for us seems to support that view. From what we’ve been able to determine, the Germans haven’t moved any divisions, or even so much as a major unit eastward for some time; and they’re still quietly moving equipment and supplies by train in and around their western garrisons and airfields.”

      Harris fished in his jacket pockets for his cigarettes. “As you can see, things are changing and I wanted you to see this house.” He was jumping from subject to subject, but despite this, he now seemed less breathless, more in control. “What do you think of the place? So far we’ve got ourselves two of these stately homes. We plan to use them as training schools. This one’s the first. I think you’ll find once Jerry comes at us in earnest the government will be more agreeable about giving us the use of these places. They’ll make ideal training centres: they’re reasonably isolated, lots of bedrooms, a large kitchen, drawing rooms that can be used for lecture rooms, and with their grounds they all have an attached training area. Anyway, come upstairs. Crossley’s waiting for us. We have news for you.”

      This was not the first occasion Rory had seen Harris agitated. He was an odd sort of individual. One day he was distant, icily professional and commanding, and the next he seemed tense and unfocused. Rory suppressed a sudden impulse to tell Harris that he thought he was over his head, that he had been wasting his time for months on end, and that he had almost no confidence in him; but he took a breath and consciously restrained himself. That sort of an outburst would be pointless; it wasn’t entirely true; and it would only get him sent back to Canada. He said nothing and followed Harris out of the drawing room. Although he had wondered previously about Harris’s suitability for the job, it was the first time his doubts had erupted so spontaneously in anger. As he rationalized things with himself, and just as suddenly brought himself under control, he wasn’t at all certain if his anger really was directed at Harris, or was simply a vent for so many months of frustration.

      Upstairs, one of the larger bedroom suites had been haphazardly converted into an office. The furniture contrasted abruptly with the floral wallpaper and gilt trim. Lost in the corners of the room were two plain wooden desks. By the windows was a government-issue conference table strewn with manila files. Rounding out the room’s improvised military appearance, a large map of Europe was tacked to the wall. Crossley was talking on the telephone. He put it onto its cradle almost as soon as the two men entered the room.

      “Hello, Ewen,” Harris said. “Before we go down to dinner, I want to run a few things past Rory. Ewen, please flesh out any details that I might miss. Rory, pull up a chair.”

      Rory looked about warily and sat on a wooden office chair. Every sense told him he was going to be offered a change of employment. Ewen was wearing his professional face: expressionless and reserved. Whatever the reason for the meeting, Rory thought his personal preferences wouldn’t trouble Harris. He wondered if Ewen’s comment about Harris’s need for control had been some kind of a warning. With his languages and Great War experience, he suspected he was about to be asked to go to Germany. France seemed unlikely. But something about Harris’s behaviour tonight put him on his guard.

      Harris spoke first. For a fraction of a second it appeared as if Ewen raised an eyebrow.

      “Rory, let me start from the beginning. We’ve brought you here because of your clandestine work in Germany, your languages, and because you have such splendid police experience. All of these qualifications make you an ideal candidate for running a large operation in either Germany or France. Unfortunately, no one is going into Germany just now, and we haven’t figured out how to fix that.”

      He raised his hands in a defeated gesture. “Unless we get some kind of spectacular defections, I’m afraid we’ve missed the boat there. We should have developed that area ten years ago, but back then no one with any influence was thinking in those terms. We had no money and, as you know, we didn’t cultivate any sources within the Nazi Party. Incredibly short-sighted of us when you look back on it, but that’s where we are. Now, and for the foreseeable future, Germany’s a closed shop to us. Their security measures are much too well developed for us to have any reasonable chance of success and any mission there would be a suicidal waste of talent.” Uncharacteristically he shrugged.

      “France is another matter. However, in France we have a rich supply of usable agents who speak good colloquial French and know the country well. We don’t anticipate any problems there. You, on the other hand, have the resourcefulness and the experience that makes you suitable for work anywhere on the continent. We need you for the time being to go somewhere else. So, despite the fact that you don’t speak another language – ” He stopped and for a moment almost looked embarrassed. “I’ll get to the point. We want you to work initially in the Low Countries.”

      Harris stopped talking and watched Rory closely. Rory exhaled deliberately and imperceptibly, doing his utmost to appear impassive. He didn’t respond. There was a moment’s uncomfortable silence.

      “How do you feel about that?” Harris said.

      “I’ll withhold comment, for now. I’d like more information.”

      Crossley jumped in. “Rory, I know this sounds a bit hasty. But we’ve thought it through, believe me. If the Germans come at us across the Maginot Line and we have a long stretch of stalemated trench warfare like everyone thinks, we’ll pull you out and re-employ you. But if they come from the north and violate Dutch and Belgian neutrality, like we think they will, Jerry will get in behind the French and roll up the country fairly quickly. I don’t have to tell you that’s always been our worst-case scenario.”

      “You see, Rory,” Harris interjected, “there are two things we have to reckon with in the Low Countries. Let me begin with the military situation. We don’t think the French army is up to much. They’re well equipped, but our private assessment is that they’re almost certainly going to buckle.” He held up a hand in mock restraint. “No question, they’ve got lots of good units, excellent equipment, but at the senior levels they’re still feuding with one another, and the quality of their army is too uneven. There will be holes in their line. On top of this, civilian morale is extremely low. We fear they don’t have the stomach for a serious fight.”

      As Harris paused for a breath, Ewen Crossley added, “It’s even worse than the last time Colonel Harris briefed you on this. The French are going to break, and break early. And the best way for Jerry to make that happen will be with a short, sharp campaign launched from an unexpected direction where they drive deep into the French rear area. If that happens, France will probably buckle and sue for peace in a matter of weeks.”

      Harris nodded. “Should that occur, again assuming they strike into France from the Low Countries, like we think they will, we’ll have a British army stranded in France with Jerry occupying all of northern Europe. We’ll need people in the Low Countries. And the way things are going tonight, we’re probably going to need them in position very soon.”

      “All right,” Rory said, “so let’s assume that things turn out as you suggest and you send me into … where in the Low Countries?…Holland? Belgium?”

      “Holland,” Harris said flatly.

      “Okay. What do you expect me to do once I’m in Holland?”

      “Nothing’s changed there,” Harris said. “We want you to build a resistance movement. Get things started. Then we want you to come back and put your experience to use organizing an army of agents that we’ll be developing back here.”

      Harris stopped talking and looked at Rory for a moment.