Armageddon_ A Novel of Berlin - Leon Uris [218]
“Prosit!” she said without thinking, but Sean did not react to the German toast.
He ordered another bottle of champagne.
Ernestine giggled. “I should have warned you. It does not take much to make me tipsy.”
Her eyes shone and she was radiant. The barriers were tumbling.
Behind them, the musicians switched from French to a German medley. Ernestine hummed, then sang, and her voice was sweet too. She remembered that she had not sung for years and years. “You are a pretty man ... yes, you are a pretty man ... that is better, Colonel ... you do have such a nice smile when you use it.”
Du kannst nicht treu sein—
Nein, nein, das kannst du nicht,
Wenn auch dein Mund mir
Wahre Liebe verspricht.
In deinem Herzen
Hast du fuer viele Platz,
Darum bist du auch nicht
Fuer mich der richt’ge Schatz.
Ernestine thought she saw his face grow tense at the German lyrics and stopped singing.
“Please go on,” he said.
There, the damned hypersensitivity again. “It is nonsense. A silly, sentimental song.”
Sean took her hand. “I am very glad we decided to become friends.”
“May I have some more champagne?”
“I don’t want to give you a hangover on our first non-cultural meeting.”
“I wish to get utterly drunk. I have been prim and proper for lo, six hundred years. I am going to kick off my shoes, forthwith, and wade into the lake and make you carry me to the car ...”
Sean poured her another glass.
She sipped long and sighed deeply. “Oh Lord, it is lovely here. It hasn’t been so lovely for so long.”
‘To a lovely friendship,” he said.
She tweaked his nose. “We have a nice German custom when people decide to become friends ... oh, excuse me, Colonel ... you don’t like German customs.”
“If it’s a nice one.”
“Extremely nice. First, you hold your glass and I hold mine. Now, we reach over ... .so ... and intertwine arms. There. Now, we drink.”
“This is a nice custom.”
“The best is yet to come.”
They sipped from each other’s glass, their locked arms brought their cheeks close.
“After a kiss we can call each other by the familiar form of ... Du.”
He felt the velvet of her cheek. “I like Du,” he said.
“And I like Du.”
“Du smell good.”
“I wore it for Du.”
Their lips touched.
“Hello, Sean.”
“Hi.”
Even on the veranda lit with little more than moonlight it was difficult to miss the hulking form of Shenandoah Blessing as he spoke to the headwaiter, who, in turn, pointed to their table.
“Sorry to disturb you,” he said.
Sean tumbled back to life, excused himself.
“Take the young lady home. I’ll meet you at Security soon as you can get there. I have your fatigues and side arms in my jeep.”
“Was gibt’s?”
“Don’t know, but it sure smells big.”
Chapter Forty
WHEN SEAN REACHED A secret room in the basement of Headquarters, Blessing was there with a dozen hand-picked enlisted men from the Constabulary. Likewise, a British Major Whitehead and a squad of their military police were present. General Hansen, General Fitz-Roy, and the Commandants Hazzard and Blatty were there. General Fitz-Roy addressed them:
“You gentlemen have been selected and assembled for a secret, urgent, and delicate mission. Within forty-eight hours our headquarters will issue a joint communiqué announcing a currency reform in the American and British zones of Germany.
“Further, it is now anticipated that the American Congress will enact the Marshall Plan into law momentarily. These two events will no doubt bring a violent reaction from the Soviet Union.
“We anticipate the Russians will attempt to issue their own currency and make it universal in Berlin. We are here to prepare for that eventuality.
“Your mission tonight is to fly to Munich and proceed to a destination known as Hüttendorf, where you will bring back a special currency for Berlin. We will hold it ready if the Soviets try to eliminate four-power currency.
“Captain Horniman of British Intelligence will brief you in detail.”
Horniman spoke for