The Iron Storm by CW Browning (classic literature books TXT) 📕

missing plans from Stuttgart, and he had never known her information to be inaccurate. His pulse quickened, and then his stride. He was getting closer to recovering the stolen plans. He could feel it. It wouldn’t be long before they had them back, and perhaps even something extra along with them. If he could interrogate the courier as well, it would be an added bonus. With any luck, Hans would not only retrieve the plans but also discover the network that was moving them. Once he had names, it would be a very easy thing to eliminate the agents.

Ahead, seated on a bench next to a picturesque streetlamp, was a woman dressed in a conservative blue skirt with a matching jacket. She had a large, sensible bag next to her on the bench, and she was looking out over the river. As he approached, she glanced up and her pointed features relaxed into a cordial smile.

“Guten Morgen, Herr Schmidt,” she greeted him. “It’s a nice morning.”

“Frau Lutz.” Hans inclined his head and seated himself on the bench. “Guten Morgen.”

While he knew everything there was to know about Frau Mira Lutz, she knew him only as Herr Schmidt, and always had. Not all of his fellow SD officers were so cautious with their informants, but Hans prided himself on his network security. If Frau Lutz was ever captured, she wasn’t in possession of any information that could possibly put him or his operations at risk. His codename was the only name she knew, and she was aware of little else besides his rank. It was the same with all his people in Belgium and Holland. The less they knew, the better all around. The only aspect that was real for all of them was their very healthy respect and fear of what he was capable of.

“Do you have any news for me from Berlin?” she asked.

“They would like you to begin cultivating more contacts in the cities here,” he replied calmly. “The Führer will be moving into Belgium and France soon. The more eyes and ears we have to help identify the enemy, the better.”

“Yes, of course. Are there any particular sorts of people you’d like me to focus on?”

“Those in positions of social standing wherever possible. You know which ones have access to the most information. You’re expected to recruit accordingly.”

“Yes, Herr Schmidt.” She nodded. “I’ll do what I can.”

“And now I believe your message said that you had information for me regarding the package that was taken from Stuttgart.”

“I do. One of our agents has been watching a Dutch courier for weeks. We know he passes information along to enemy agents in France, but we’ve been unable to catch him.”

“I’m sure you didn’t send for me only to tell me what you don’t have,” Hans said softly, his pale blue eyes cold.

Frau Lutz visibly balked, but recovered quickly. “The agent is known as Lars, and two nights ago he came into possession of a packet that I believe is the package from Stuttgart. It was given to him in Rotterdam. I instructed our agent to attempt to retrieve it, but it proved impossible. He followed him instead. Yesterday, the Dutch agent came into Belgium and met with a woman in Antwerp.”

“A woman?”

“Yes. A courier. She was staying in one of the more expensive hotels under the name Marie Fournier.” Frau Lutz cleared her throat. “Our agent saw the package change hands from Lars to the woman, and he followed her from the meeting place back to the hotel.”

“And the package?”

“Went into the hotel with her.”

Hans looked at her sharply when she stopped, his eyes narrowing.

“And?” His voice was soft and dangerous.

“The woman never came out of the hotel. When our agent went to retrieve the package in the night, she was gone and her room was empty.”

Hans swore violently. “Where? Where did she go?”

“After speaking with the night manager, the agent believes she snuck out and caught the last train to Brussels. He believes the package is still with her.”

“There is no way for him to know that,” he snapped. “She could have passed it to another courier after she left the hotel. Not only did he lose the package, but he lost the courier as well. As far as I can see, Frau Lutz, you have nothing.”

“I wouldn’t say nothing, Herr Schmidt,” she objected. “We know the woman went to Brussels.”

“How?” he demanded. “Forgive me if I don’t put much store in the hazy beliefs of an agent who allowed her to disappear right from under his nose.”

“According to the hotel manager, she had him reserve a first class compartment on the morning train to Brussels. She must have decided not to wait, and took the night train instead.”

Hans glared at her for a second, then made an impatient sound in his throat. “Or she could still be in Antwerp.” He fell silent for a moment, thinking. “What is this agents name who followed her to the hotel?”

“Daan.”

“Have him go to all the hotels and boarding houses in Antwerp to ensure that the woman didn’t simply change lodging. Report his findings back to me.”

“Yes, Herr Schmidt.” She watched as he stood up. “I’ll send you a message as soon as I have something.”

“No, you won’t. I’ll contact you.” Hans turned to look down at her coldly. “I’m leaving Liège.”

She looked startled. “But...where are you going?”

“To Brussels. Someone has to take the matter in hand, as it appears that competence is suddenly lacking in those who were supposed to be taking care of this problem,” he said scathingly. “Do you have a description of this Marie Fournier?”

Frau Lutz shook her head, lowering her eyes from his fierce gaze. “No. Daan believes she has light colored hair, but it was dark and he can’t be sure.”

“Of course not. What you’re saying is that I have a name and nothing else.” Hans lips thinned unpleasantly. “When I catch up to Marie Fournier, you’d do well to hope that she still has