A big thank you to the wonderful RamonaE for allowing me to borrow her idea. And grateful thanks to the fabulous Ella for adding so much value way beyond her editing skills.
CHAPTER ONE: Alice is given a mission behind enemy lines
The office was well appointed, almost regal with its styling, and certainly better than many of the other merely functional rooms used by the usual senior senior ranks at the War Office. The smartly attired Head of MI6 sat on the leather Chesterfield sofa, opposite the beautiful young agent, providing her with details of the mission they were about to entrust her with.
The twenty-three year old Alice was fresh from University where she had been head hunted by the Agency's recruiters. They had spotted her potential some time before she graduated with a first in German. With her nubile body and long flowing blonde hair, she already could have been mistaken as Aryan herself. Nothing was further from the truth. Yes, her Aryan looks would certainly be an advantage behind enemy lines, but it was her hard work and intelligence that had gained her the respect of the men that recruited her.
"As you know, Alice," the MI6 head was saying in that gruff tone of his, "A few weeks ago we lost contact with James Carruthers, one of our very best field agents. He was investigating a secret research centre somewhere in Baden-Württemberg. That's a state in the southwestern part of Germany, to the east of the Upper Rhine. The last information we had connected him and the research centre to the town of Freiburg."
He tapped the manila file on his knee, indicating that more detailed information would be available to her in the file.
"It would be the perfect location for the German's research work," he continued, pulling on both curled edges of his moustache. "Freiburg is bordered by the Black Forest Mountains, Rosskopf and Bromberg to the east, Schönberg and Tuniberg to the south, with the Kaiserstuhl hill region to the west. Penetrating that sort of terrain is notoriously difficult."
"What exactly was it he was investigating?" Alice asked, staring intently into his tired eyes.
"That we don't know..."
Carruthers was aware of the facilities existence, but unsure as to its purpose.
"But preliminary reports from Carruthers indicated he believed the German's are developing something there that could change the course of the war."
Alice nodded solemnly. No wonder she'd been pulled into the War Office headquarters at such short notice. The implications of her mission were becoming clearer by the second.
"Do you think he's still alive?"
It was an awkward question, but one that had to be asked. She needed to know if she was being told everything. Upper intelligence had a habit of hanging back on certain parts of their Intel unless a direct question was asked by an operative.
"We just don't know," he replied after a short pause, then gave an almost imperceptible sigh. "But if the Gestapo have him then the chances are he would be better off that way."
Alice shivered at the mention of the German secret service. She understood exactly what a mission involving the Gestapo might involve. She was well aware exactly what they were capable of—some of her closest friends had perished or completely disappeared at their hands during past assignments and she wouldn't be going into this mission without a full understanding of the possible consequences.
"Security in the area itself is strict ... German nationals only, in short, no easy way in. The woman in control of the area is one Obersturmfuhrer Helga Bachmeier. What we know about her is that she is one hell of a hard bitch that was personally placed there by Hitler himself."
Alice let out a low hiss under her breath. She'd heard of Bachmeier. The Obersturmfuhrer was an out and out dyke who was rumoured to have a huge sexual appetite, especially as far as attractive young girls were concerned. She shivered in her seat at the thought of possibly coming face to face with Herr Bachmeier.
"Do you want me to try and find Carruthers?" she asked. "And get him out of there if I do?"
The Colonel hesitated before answering but his silence was enough. Carruthers was expendable.
What was of more importance was that Alice picked up where he had left off and found out exactly what this research facility was looking into and the possible consequences of their research.
"I want you to take his place," The Head said, pulling on his moustache again as he confirmed exactly what Alice had suspected. "The mission remains the same. Find out what the bastards are up to. The outcome of the war could depend on it. If you happen to find Carruthers and can rescue him, then all the better. But nothing must compromise this mission. Am I clear?"
"Yes, sir," she answered. Crystal clear.
"Good. You leave this evening."
THAT NIGHT
The Westland Lysander was a British army co-operation and liaison aircraft with an exceptional short-field performance that aided clandestine missions such as this. Its ability to place or recover agents behind enemy lines was unparalleled.
It dropped Alice in the open countryside near La Bresse, a commune in the Vosges department in Lorraine in north-eastern France. Members of the resistance picked her up by truck and took her to the border, leaving her to negotiate the last few miles on foot.
Her papers showed her to be Eva Drescher, a refugee from Düsseldorf and her cover was that she was trying to find her boyfriend, who had told her he was relocating to the area just prior to her house being destroyed by Allied bombing raids. That was enough to justify her temporary lodging in a worker's hostel and the plan had worked a treat, with a bed being allocated to her with only a cursory check.
The intelligence community had served her well with excellent forged papers that had proven impossible to tell apart from legitimate documents.
She joined the queue for breakfast at six-thirty the next morning, taking her meagre fare—a small chunk of bread with a scrape of jam and a cup of ersatz coffee—to the end of a crowded trestle table, eager to pick up on any items of chatter that might prove useful.
Her excellent German language skills and blonde locks made it very difficult to distinguish her from the locals. She had even worked with a dialect coach on joining MI6 to ensure nothing was left to chance.
Nothing of any real interest to her mission had been said by anyone around the table. A few men had tried to flirt with her a little. People spoke about the hardship of life and all the latest reports from the fronts. About fallen sons and missing family members.
She had almost finished the meal, such as it was, when three members of the Gestapo appeared, two men and a woman. It was a worrying development. There really was nothing of any concern to them here other than various refugees and people looking for work to help the war effort. Their eyes systematically took in each of the people seated the tables until eventually they approached the warden.
