The next several days flew by. Between devising and learning codes and planning to infiltrate the intercept station by Karl’s estate, we barely knew what day we were on. The plans for the intercept station were all but complete. Franz, Karl, and Henry would be infiltrating. I had insisted on taking a spot on the team. Due to the danger of compromising his identity, Will would sit this out. Karl and Henry were essential; Karl knew the terrain by heart, and Henry was needed for the specifics of this new equipment. Which left Fritzy and I to draw. He won. Fritzy had remained distant since our discussion in the sitting room. He would brood on Amalia until he had worn it out, drank it out, or well, worked it out at the brothel. The ground on which he trod was anything but new. As always, it would pass. He would make a tenuous peace with it, just as he had done every time before.
Unbeknownst to anyone, my enthusiasm to accompany Karl and Henry was a ruse. I had been praying to lose the draw of who would accompany them. A task equally important needed to be performed. With everyone gone, it would give me the advantage of carrying it out. Of course, if Will assisted me, it would be all the better. If not, going it alone was equally effective.
Their group was to use the antenna at the intercept station to transmit a message to us but using one of our radios. On our first practice run, we would receive only. We would expect to receive their transmission two nights from now. Two days gave me ample time to complete my task and return.
Due to the Nazi machine being so effective at locating transmissions, we would receive only when we were at the “Meadows” estate, thereby maintaining the anonymity of the location. In a side project, I mapped locations to transmit from when needed. Areas less than an hour away, remote enough to keep the attention off of residents nearby when possible. The C12 automobile would stand out like a sore thumb. We needed something less conspicuous.
Arrangements were made for a Fiat truck. I requested something well-used, mechanically sound, and nondescript. Just another farm truck. Klaus had volunteered theirs. Truthfully, it was perfect. Except, all the locals knew to whom it belonged. The ‘radio’ truck would stay in the workshop between uses. In the true fashion of a miracle worker, Klaus presented me with an acceptable truck the following day. It belonged to a gentleman on the other side of our valley. He knew the family well. The truck was still in use occasionally. However, the family wanted to upgrade to a newer, larger truck. With the funds from selling this one, they could make that purchase. The truck was painted a different color. The job was poorly done, on purpose. They were adding to the old beat-up look of it.
On the 10th of January, the group headed to Karl’s family estate in Kufstein. His parents were away in Switzerland visiting one of his sisters. Will and I took the day off. Our projects were all but finished, and we had been lending a hand where needed. When they left, I asked him for coffee in my sitting room upstairs.
“Wow,” he said, entering the room. I gave him the grand tour, bedroom, shower room, bathing room, and wardrobe, ending in the sitting room. “Ah, the mystery windows. I have often wondered what room these were looking out from. Breathtaking view. Your father has a true gift for planning residences.” Will chose a chair, continuing to admire the view. I offered coffee, and we sat enjoying the landscape.
“Schuschnigg. I need to have a face-to-face conversation with him,” I said plainly, no games, no subterfuge. “The evening train will leave Innsbruck with me on it if you agree to protect the privacy of this trip from everyone for now. Of course, I will also need you to drive me in and pick me up tomorrow.”
“Whatever you need, Jim, you know that. One thing you should be aware of, Franz pulled me aside to warn me you may try something like this. We will keep it private for now, but he will figure it out. Speaking of Franz. For someone with his intuition, he is certainly blind to his own salvation.”
“No, Will, he is not blind. He cannot bear the pain of letting Amalia completely die.”
“If only he would let her rest. Celebrate her life, her place in his life and the joy she brought him. We have amazing lives, and he lives his as a shell. I miss Fritzy; we all do, maybe someday. To your plan, though. Yes, I will drive you in and spend the night in Innsbruck. No need for the estate, Jim. I can stay elsewhere.”
“Please, Will, stay at the estate. Otto looked as if he would cry when we left. They are worse than bored, I am afraid. With Henry wishing to stay unseen, we need the privacy the meadows offer. When he departs, it will allow us the freedom to move between Innsbruck, here, and Vaduz. Vienna seems a stretch now. You never know; it is a big city if you know how to get lost.”
“Have you given any thought to the fact they know you have killed a party member, a spy no less? The party may not have posters of you hanging up yet, but trust me when I tell you that, somewhere, you are on someone’s list to take to a camp. If not killed outright and then staged as an accident. They will be careful because of your father, but it will not stop them.”
Will’s warning rang true. The night in the Chancellory when I dispatched the tan shirt listening on the other side of the door played out in my mind. A hint of my strange headaches whispered in my temple and was gone. I thought of the lifeless body I had placed in the hastily dug grave. “I appreciate the warning, Will. I believe the reward outweighs the risk if I am successful.”
“Do you think he will believe you? You did not before; what’s changed?”
“Not at all. I think the Chancellor will explain to me why it cannot be. However, if I do not do everything I can to persuade him, when something happens, it will be hard to forgive myself. Perhaps it will even nag at him. Be a voice in his head, allowing him to piece at least some of it together. We plan to rescue him and get him out safely before or after they overtake us. The truth is, though, the possibility is painfully remote. We all know it. Are we still going to try? Of course we are. We will put forth our absolute best attempt. However, it will still be improbable.”
“Well, we have two days until we need to monitor for a transmission. Let us put them to good use. Where will you meet him, at home?”
“The Philharmonic is playing this week. A coded invitation was sent yesterday to request his presence. On his way home, he will make a detour for a schnapps at a private residence.”
“Very clever, just beware leaving.”
“Indeed, the rooftops are the exit point. There are to be no other stops. I will stay at the private residence until just before dawn. Then I will travel to a specific building, exit onto the street, and proceed to the train station.”
“I wish I could join you. As soon as I am packed, we can leave for Innsbruck.”
“Thank you, Will.”
With that, Will left to pack. I threw a few things in a small satchel. Downstairs, I had Klaus bring the auto around. He gave me a look and told me Franz had spoken with him too. “Klaus, promise me you will not say or do anything to compromise my leaving for the night.”
Klaus looked sheepish, “Mein Herr, I will not put you or your family in jeopardy.”
“Not a word to anyone, Klaus, swear it.”
“I swear on Mary herself,” which, of course, prompted crossing ourselves and a round of asking for forgiveness for swearing on her.
Nonetheless, Klaus brought the auto around a brief time later. Will and I bade him goodbye and headed for Innsbruck.
At the station, Will offered me a pistol. I assured him I had already secured one to my ankle. We laughed, and I turned him loose in Innsbruck to enjoy himself. The risk of being seen even here limited what he could do. I had offered to have Reneé send Olga to the house, but he had declined. He did not want to take the risk. He assured me he would be the aristocrat he was and keep the house staff busy until tomorrow evening when I returned.
I took a late paper from a stand where no one stood and tucked it under my arm. I retrieved my ticket from the booth and boarded the train. There were few passengers, more would board on the way. I found a quiet seat in a rear car at the very back. I settled in, opened the paper to hide my face and read the day's news. The trip was uneventful. Arriving late in the city, I hailed a taxi and arrived a few blocks from my destination. Ten minutes later, I was entering the servant's entrance of a small manor in the elite district of Vienna.
Claude, a dear friend, and cousin several times removed, ushered me into a room, allowing me to freshen up. Afterward, he showed me to the receiving room, where coffee awaited me. “Alexsander, all the staff are gone at your request. After your guest arrives, I will return to my rooms for the night. Please make yourself at home while you are here.”
Claude and I chatted about the dreadful presence of the party. The chaos and undertones of a barely quelled panic in the populace. Shortages, rumors, the monetary system, the snakes slithering through the very streets of Vienna. “One dares not say a word against anyone, lest you disappear. It is impossible to tell friends from foes anymore. There is no valor in any of it.” Our conversations continued along this line for another half hour. Finally, a knock arrived at the door. Claude graciously accepted the Chancellor in, then excused himself, disappearing upstairs.
“Chancellor,” I said, shaking his hand.
“Please, use Kurt, Alexsander. It is nice to hear my name occasionally.” We shook hands, and I indicated a seat, which he accepted.
“May I offer you coffee, schnapps?”
“A schnapps if you would.”
I poured for us both. Kurt immediately toasted and swallowed the contents, setting his glass aside. I offered another, but he declined.
“Thank you for bringing Karl in. He has been of great assistance in many ways. I had hoped you would return. However, I sense you are not staying long.”
“No, I am sorry, Kurt. Karl is the best I can do. You see, we have procured a significant amount of information since November. As cousin Claude puts it, Vienna has become a den of snakes. Sadly, some of those snakes know my name, it seems.”
“Oh dear, Alexsander, are you quite safe right now?”
“I am afraid not, Kurt. Therefore, allow me to come straight to the point as my time is borrowed, as they say. We have absolutely irrefutable proof that the Nazis have infiltrated the Chancellery to its core.”
The Chancellor sat up straighter. His face gave nothing away, but there was no mistaking the defensive posture he had assumed. “Do you have names?”
“Indeed, many, and many you will not want to hear. Understand, some of these we know are doing it more for the money and position than because they are true believers. However, they will serve you on a platter to Lucifer himself if necessary. Make no mistake in your belief of that.” He nodded his head to affirm the truth of it but said nothing. I continued, “We know, for a fact, of Baron Von Froelichsthal, Guido Schmidt, Franz Von Papen, Councilor Artur Seyss-Inquart, Councilor Wolff, Edmund Glaise-Horstenall Minister of Home Security, Neustaoter Stuermer Minister of the Interior, and the list goes on. A safe estimate of clerks and typists would be 80% if one is leaving and another is coming in. The one incoming is a member of the party. There are many more, Chancellor. I do not have the time to give you every name. Right now, it would be safe to say if they are not someone you grew up with in Tyrol or fought in the war with, they are probably against you. Even then, there may be doubt. If you would like a complete list of those we can factually confirm, I will provide one when I return to Innsbruck.” I finished, the feeling of being the executioner at the gallows looming in my mind. Kurt sat motionless, expressionless, except for an unmistakable fire in his eyes.
“Part of me wants to refute your claims vehemently. Insist you are mistaken. Insist brothers, countrymen, and friends are incapable of such injustice. To align themselves with ungodly hate mongers and turn their backs on God, their country, and their very own brothers. It is impossible to believe. I know you have risked much to come to me with this. Certainly, you come with conviction, so you genuinely believe it. It is preposterous, and I cannot believe such a devious and outlandish scheme to infiltrate the entire government. To impugn my secretary, Baron, who is above reproach. I vetted him myself. He is a brother of Matutina; you must understand why this is completely out of the question.” He was up, pacing the floor, going quiet. Finally, he stopped, walked to the fireplace, and stared at the flames for some time. I was about to say something when he returned to me. He waited until I stood and shook my hand. “Thank you, Alexsander; you put yourself at significant risk to deliver your message. Please give your father and your family my best. Do be careful.” With that, he left the receiving room. I followed him as he walked out the front door and closed it behind him. I locked it and walked back into the receiving room. A large sigh escaped my lips. I poured a very generous schnapps, banked the fire, and retired with my drink to my room.
Sitting in the luxuriously decorated guest room, I sipped the drink mindlessly. I found myself replaying the conversation. Was there something else I could have said to convince him? Should I have laid the argument out in a more legal manner? Perhaps formed it as a debate, letting him come to a conclusion on his own. There just was not time for those games. I removed my garments and placed them on the clothing rack.
I was climbing into the sheets despite the slight chance of sleep. It felt good to stretch out. Closing my eyes, Eva came to me, just the love of her. The comfort of her presence. She was lovely in the same green outfit the countess had worn. She sat close to me in her sitting room. Franz called for help. He was yelling in the hallway. Leaving Eva, I ran out the door, falling. It felt like falling, but there below me was a mirror. I hit the mirror. It looked like a pool of silver water as I plunged deep into it. I began swimming upward as quickly as possible. My lungs struggled for air. The water felt heavy, like liquid mercury. It was so difficult to swim through. I thought my lungs would burst. Then I was standing in a meadow with large pine trees around. A species unfamiliar to me, it is cloudy, and there is a breeze. A woman stands on the edge, and she is beckoning me to come closer. I realize it is the woman from the mirror.
I ran to her, wanting to speak with her as soon as possible. When I approach her, she does not disappear. Those eyes, her eyes, smolder with a feeling I cannot pinpoint. I know her, “who are you?” I said under my breath. “Alexsander, beware!” she spoke, but I could not hear her. “I cannot hear you; your voice is not making any sound.” She looks frustrated, she stops talking, and she is pointing, she grabs my shoulder to turn me around. She is still pointing and looking at me, then looking at what she is pointing to. I slip into the mirror, the mercury pulling me down. Her hand plunges in, trying to pull me back. No use, I am falling, no air, I cannot breathe.
Waking with a start, I found myself gasping for breath. The left side of my head hurt so bad the pain was blinding. Head in my hands, I tried to sit up, but the pain was excruciating. Never in my life has anything hurt like this. What was wrong? I was moaning. The next thing I knew, I woke up again. I was covered in sweat, lying on the floor in the fetal position, my head in my hands. I must have passed out. Slowly, I moved around. My head felt fine. I felt fine, but a little tired. Standing, I moved to the chair, sitting for a few minutes. That seemed to go well. I made my way to the lavatory and cleaned up.
Checking the time, I dressed and went out to the hall. In the attic, I found the roof access and climbed out. It was still dark, but the faintest light was shown on the horizon. I made my way over the roofs until finally arriving at the designated building. Opening the door, I followed the stairs down to the ground floor, where I exited the building. I made my way along the street. There was little traffic. A few morning vendors were making their way along. I was at the station in 20 minutes. Ticket purchased, I grabbed a newspaper, procured coffee, and had a seat to wait to board the train.
Several hours later, I was sitting in the dining car enjoying a lovely breakfast on my way home. My paper mostly read, I admired the scenery passing by. A gentleman a few tables down sat facing me. The feeling of being observed struck me as soon as I saw him. An average man of average height and nondescript features. Light brown hair, brown eyes, 5’10” perhaps, wiry build. He was dressed in a suit, nothing particularly fancy. An accountant or clerk, perhaps. I thought there was nothing to see here, ordering another pot of coffee and settling into my table.
The man prompted me to wonder about Kurt, though. Would he be able to open his mind to the possibility of the betrayal surrounding him? Their actions would surely give them away now that he had been confronted with the knowledge he certainly already suspected. Would he see, though? Could he move out of his way in time to save himself? His refusal to give up on Austria gave him my total allegiance.
Along with many other reasons. Even in the most extreme difficulties, despite losing Herma in the automobile accident, he never stopped fighting to preserve Austria. The fight still consumed him. The führer was standing on his doorstep with the keys to the kingdom. Yet he still saw hope to break free through some miracle. Perhaps his second heartbreak would be when the eleventh-hour strikes and no one comes to save our once great lady. Please, God, keep him from the arms of his would-be oppressors.
Melancholy for my country set in, not this Austria, but the one I was born to. My mind played the movie of all the wrong steps the last 20 years had wrought. Of how we went from the great Austro-Hungarian Empire to a tiny dot on the map. With no Monarch, no economy, no army, no lands, and no assistance. No way to withstand the machine that Germany had become. The tiny little traitorous dictator, a son of Austria herself, full of hate. Hate for God, hate for people, life, joy, happiness. We were born and bred in the same empire. What a cruel joke fate plays on Austria now while our “allies” stand idly by, turning deaf ears, insisting we are complicit. Let history show the folly of our choices and the horror we wrought on the world with the war. But, too, let history show how our adversaries abandoned us. They left the Eagle with the wing they broke, wandering alone in the wilderness; with no protection, food, or help for the innocent, no hope for recovery, no possibility but to become the prey of another.
Stop! These are the thoughts of everyone, from the baker to the Chancellor. They do nothing to improve the situation. Allow yourself to explore avenues to assist those who want and need help. Perhaps Golda’s parents would be a resource. With the radios, the Fiat, and the room below the meadow’s estate, we could begin bringing even more people out before it is too late. Vienna is so dangerous, but perhaps they have a way to get the word out. We certainly do not want to wave a flag with a mass exodus. However, we could have many more “vacations” in the coming weeks. Where to send them, though? Britain did not want them, which meant all the countries under British control would not accept them either. If the migrants had money or a helpful profession, they were at least considered. The Earl, Henry, and many others were fighting to change that, unlike America, succumbed to restrictive immigration laws reflecting the national climate of isolationism, xenophobia, antisemitism, racism, and economic insecurity after World War I. Our options were thin with Italy under Mussolini's dictatorship and Spain in the middle of a civil war with another would-be dictator. The Hungarian states were next on the German list. Therefore, there were no good choices on that side.
Yes, Britain and France were our best options. France openly accepted immigrants without the prerequisites of Britain. My contacts in France were limited, though. Perhaps one of the others had sufficient contacts in France. An epiphany hit, Eva. She said a priest or was it a brother from the church helped her in her youth. Perhaps she had contacts in France who could be of service. As soon as I arrived in Innsbruck, I would put a call through.
My friend, the observer, had vacated his table sometime before. The feeling continued to persist, though. Perhaps he was not the one observing. Surveying my surroundings, no one seemed to still be here from the morning’s departure, except the wait staff. All the occupants of the dining car were new. I folded my paper and vacated the table. Walking to the back of the train, I entered the parlor car. The only occupants were an older couple who reminded me of Franz's parents, and two gentlemen. One closer to my age, the other possibly in his fifties. Both were engaged in conversation and paid no attention to my entrance. The feeling of being watched subsided, which seemed more concerning and yet less since I was in a private car. The privilege of having a ticket in the parlor car was a luxury. I moved to the back of the car, choosing a chair with an ottoman. The chair was situated to afford a view outside and forward to the entrance. After getting comfortable, I laid my head back and closed my eyes.
The train rolling to a stop woke me. Judging from the sun's position, I had slept for some time. We were arriving in Innsbruck. The couple were still seated, but the two gentlemen had vacated already. Stretching, I got to my feet, threw my paper on the table for another passenger, and headed toward the door. There was a flash of movement at the window of the door. Black and white was all I saw. I looked around as I opened the door, but there was no one. No matter. I stepped off the train and headed toward the station and the street beyond.