The Enemy of My Enemy (Clandestine Operations 5) - Page 117

There was blast of a whistle, and the troopers in the three-quarter-tons leapt out of them, clutching Thompson submachine guns. They acted as if they expected to be attacked at any moment.

And then there was action in the second M8.

Major General I. D. White, wearing a shiny helmet liner with the two silver stars indicating his rank gleaming on its front, leapt nimbly to the ground. Two more Thompson-armed troopers followed him. White tucked a riding crop under his arm and marched regally toward the castle entrance.

Dickinson walked up to Cronley to see the source of the sirens.

“Captain,” he said, helpfully, “I wouldn’t be at all surprised if the general is looking for you. And I suggest it might be a good idea not to keep him waiting.”

Cronley met his eyes, then turned and walked quickly to the door before breaking into a trot.

XIV

[ONE]

Wewelsburg Castle

Near Paderborn, American Zone of Occupation, Germany

0955 27 April 1946

Cronley slowed to a walk as he entered the kitchen. General White was helping himself to a cup of coffee and a doughnut from a tray on the table in the center of the room. Two Constabulary troopers, the elder of whom looked as if he required a shave maybe every other week, eyed Cronley coldly. Both troopers obviously were prepared to turn their Thompsons on him if he acted at all suspiciously. Cronley saluted crisply.

“Good morning, sir. An unexpected pleasure.”

General White returned the salute by touching his riding crop to his gleaming helmet liner.

“I was taking a morning patrol with my troopers and realized we were close to your castle. I thought I’d drop by and pay my respects.”

“We’re honored to have you, sir.”

“You’re scared practically shitless, Cronley. I can tell when you are because your military courtesy is impeccable.”

Cronley didn’t reply.

“In response to your unasked question, Sergeant Casey is sitting—figuratively speaking, of course—on Miss Johansen in Sonthofen. I didn’t want her around until I had a good look at what’s going on at your castle. I have a number of probing questions for you. Starting with, why is King Arthur’s table in pieces and why are they loading said pieces onto that six-by-six?”

“Sir, Colonel Dickinson believes an entry—maybe the entry—into the secret passages in the castle is concealed where the table was sitting.”

“Now I’m really glad I came,” White said, then gestured with his riding crop. “Lead on, Captain Super Spook. Show me the secret passages.”

* * *


When they walked into the vaulted room, they found Major Lomax on his knees where the table had been. He was gently tapping the stone floor with a ball-peen hammer and then, all of a sudden, raised the hammer over his shoulders and delivered a heavy blow to the floor.

“You’re brighter than you look, Lomax,” Colonel Dickinson said. “Maybe you should consider a career in the Corps of Engineers.”

Lomax ignored him, instead handing the hammer to Technical Sergeant Holmes.

“You see where it’s starting to crack, Elwood?”

“Got it, sir,” Sergeant Holmes said, taking the hammer and dropping to his knees.

At that point, Dickinson, Lomax, and Father McKenna, who was standing beside Lomax, spotted General White, a natty lieutenant next to him, obviously his aide-de-camp, his bodyguards, and Cronley.

> Dickinson called, “Ten-hut!” and everybody in the room, which included maybe a dozen soldiers, popped to attention.

Tags: W.E.B. Griffin Clandestine Operations Thriller
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