Honor Bound (Honor Bound 1)

“The Austrian Corporal is protected by a regiment, each of whose members devoutly believes he is the salvation of Germany.”

“He will destroy Germany, and you know it.”

“You are not the first to come to me, Dieter,” von Wachtstein said.

“I am ashamed that I was not.”

“I told them all the same thing: I believe any attempt to assassinate Hitler is doomed to failure.”

“So is Freddy von Paulus’s mission at Stalingrad,” von Haas interrupted.

“And that in the unlikely happenstance that such an attempt did succeed,” von Wachtstein went on, ignoring him, “we might not—Germany might not—be at all better off. His successor would be Hermann Goering. We would exchange a psychopath for a drug addict. And upon the death of Herr Schicklgruber, the slime around him…and I include the entire inner circle…would immediately put into operation their own plans to get rid of Hermann. There would be chaos.”

“Wouldn’t anything be better than what we have now, Karl?” von Haas asked.

“I’m not at all sure,” von Wachtstein said.

“I thank you for hearing me out, Karl.”

“I have not turned you down,” von Wachtstein said.

“That’s what it sounded like.”

“I have a condition…a price.”

Von Haas could not quite mask his astonishment. And obviously to find time to carefully consider his reply, he leaned forward and picked up the bottle of Rémy Martin and poured from it carefully into his glass.

“There would be, of course,” von Haas began carefully, “a substantial realignment of the General Staff. I feel sure…”

“My God, Dieter!” von Wachtstein flared. “Have we grown so far apart that you really believed I was thinking of a promotion?”

Von Haas met his eyes.

“Karl!” he said, and shrugged his shoulders helplessly.

“I have given two sons to this war,” von Wachtstein said. “I am thinking of the third. I am thinking of the family. This insanity will pass. I want a von Wachtstein around when it does.”

“Peter,” von Haas said.

“Peter,” von Wachtstein repeated, nodding his head. “I have been thinking about honor. As strange and alien a concept as that has become. I have concluded that Peter has made all the contribution to this war, save giving his life, that honor demands.”

“The Knight’s Cross of the Iron Cross,” von Haas said.

“From the hands of the Austrian Corporal himself,” von Wachtstein said. “He was in Spain with the Condor Legion, in Poland, Russia, and France. He has been five times shot down, and twice wounded.”

“What do you want for him?”

“I want him out of the war and out of Germany.”

“I don’t quite understand.”

“I want him assigned to some procurement mission, or some embassy as a military attaché. To some neutral country. Not Italy or Hungary or Japan. He speaks Spanish. Somewhere in Latin America.”

“That will be difficult to arrange,” von Haas said, thinking aloud.

“Dieter, if you don’t have anyone high up in the Foreign Ministry, your coup doesn’t have a chance. And I am not as important to your plans as you have suggested I am.”

“I will see what can be arranged, Karl.”