Armageddon_ A Novel of Berlin - Leon Uris [199]
At seven o’clock the next morning, Neal Hazzard’s orderly woke him to inform him that General Trepovitch was on the phone.
Hazzard smiled when he saw the time. It was an ungodly hour for the Russians. He knew they had been sitting up all night pondering.
“Morning, General Trepovitch. Beautiful event last night.”
“Yes ... indeed ... beautiful. Candidly, Colonel Hazzard, I wish to discuss the situation at the Railroad Administration Building.”
“Shoot.”
“If you will agree to withdraw your forces I will agree to an emergency session of the Kommandatura today to discuss the matter.”
“If you’re looking for bargains, try Sears, Roebuck.”
“What?”
“Nyet.”
Trepovitch’s voice lowered to that familiar pitch that was about to unleash a threat. “If you do not remove your forces, we will take appropriate measures.”
“We’ll be there.”
Trepovitch set the phone down. Marshal Popov, V. V. Azov, and Captain Brusilov from Moscow were in the room. They waited until the translations were made and read them. Captain Brusilov had been sent to create an incident before the Foreign Ministers’ Conference to establish de facto Russian control of the city. He crumpled the translation in his fist. Azov felt a slight comfort for the moment. What would the great courier do now? Call Moscow for instructions?
“Withdraw our forces from the building,” he said.
Chapter Thirty
“LIEUTENANT COLONEL O’SUILIVAN SPEAKING.”
“This is the sergeant at the main gate, sir. There’s a Fraulein Ernestine Falkenstein to see you.”
“She has an appointment. Have her checked through and brought up to my office.”
“Yes, sir.”
Ernestine stepped into the security shack, signed in, and deposited her identification papers and ration book at the desk. A spit and polish corporal from the Constabulary led her briskly into the compound.
Ernestine shrank back. She had been here before when it was the Luft Gau Headquarters for Central Germany. Her law office had sent her to witness a court-martial as a “friend of the family.” In those days a swastika flew from the mast and the entrance had a large, stone German eagle. There were black uniforms and jackboots.
The corporal led her down the long, somber corridor and she shuddered a little. At last they stopped before Lieutenant Colonel O’Sullivan’s office. The corporal knocked, opened the door, saluted, and gawked at the woman as she went in.
“I’ll call you if I need your help, Corporal.”
The soldier was embarrassed and beat a hasty retreat.
“Won’t you have a seat?”
“Thank you. And thank you for seeing me.”
“What can I do for you?”
“As you might have suspected, it regards my Uncle Ulrich. This information on Berthold Hollweg has come to him as a great shock.”
“It would be strange if it didn’t upset him.”
“They have been comrades for decades. The thought of having to bring him up on charges and thrown out of the Democratic Party is more than he can bear.”
“Your uncle has a great capacity for absorbing punishment. He understands his duty as clear-cut.”
Ernestine fumbled with her handbag. “Can’t someone else bring the charges? They are the same no matter who makes them.”
“We’ve been through all that, fraulein.”
“There is something else. I know you’re going to want him to become Oberburgermeister of Berlin.”
“That’s right. He should have been elected instead of Hollweg in the first place. We were trying to accommodate the Russians. We’re not so anxious to do that, any more.”
“Perhaps I am not making myself clear, Colonel. He is not a young man nor is he in good health. I fear that this burden might be too much for him.”
The girl was clever and well trained and more, she had perception.
“We are being drawn into a situation where we must become more and more involved with your politicians. It is a condition your uncle has argued for from the beginning. If we are