"Heydrich, good morning," Paul said, leaning against the railing of the balcony.
The view of Berlin at the end of February was astonishing. The city had experienced a rare late snowfall, covering the roofs in a light dusting of milky white. From below, the rumbling of cars and the motion of people echoed all the way up to the balcony.
"Mein Führer, good morning." Heydrich tilted his head downward before joining Paul, accepting the cigarette Paul held out in the air.
"Are you well, Heydrich?" Paul asked plainly.
"Of course, my Führer," Heydrich answered, a bit flustered and surprised by such a personal question.
"What about Werner? Any leads?" Paul continued.
Heydrich tensed slightly. He knew how sensitive this topic was, especially in the presence of the Führer, whose best friend had betrayed him. The anger rose once again in Heydrich, the anger of failure. Seeing Paul now and imagining that bastard Friedrich Lehmann somewhere across the ocean, bathing in the sun, made his blood boil.
"After he was taken in by the so-called CIA, we have never heard from him again. Our agents are trying, but..."
"The CIA..." Paul interrupted him, taking a drag from his cigarette.
"Another construct of our influence. Once it was all so simple. Werner and I against James. The good against the so called evil." Paul ended his sentence with a self-mocking tone.
Heydrich squinted his eyes, trying to analyze the words spoken by Paul.
Paul noticed his interest and flicked his cigarette away into the air.
"Either way, tell me when you find out something. Come to me directly."
Heydrich nodded slowly.
"The actual reason I asked you to come is for you to tell me about Fall Red. It is, after all, crucial for the continuation of my plans."
Heydrich cleared his throat, nodding. He too had wanted to meet Paul exactly about this topic.
"I received a report this morning..."
Ten hours earlier, in the middle of the night, somewhere in the deep forests of Slovakia.
Cough. Cough.
"Are you ill or what?" Gustaf asked, turning around. The winter air steamed out of his mouth and nostrils.
"I am fine, thanks for the attention," Maler answered, his face barely visible in the night. Beside him walked another man, clad just like Maler in a brown winter leather jacket.
"And you?" Gustaf looked at the other Gestapo gentleman he had to take with him on this mission.
"What?" The man asked while the group continued to walk. For a moment Gustaf and the unknown Gestapo agent locked eyes. Maler tensed up, fearing the worst, then Gustaf suddenly laughed.
"You have a pretty mustache. You were called Baumann, right?"
The agent nodded, barely amused.
A repressed laugh came from the front. Ahead of Maler and Baumann walked Gustaf and Hermann, the same guard who had threatened Maler at the door just yesterday. At the very front were Skorzeny and another former SS soldier from his unit. His name was Seiler.
It was Skorzeny who had to suppress the laughter, although it barely even reached the ears of the ones in the back as loud sounds filled the dark surroundings.
Maler looked to the ground. They had been walking on asphalt for some time now, something rather unusual in a rural place like this.
"Our key," Skorzeny announced from the front. A silhouette appeared before them in the darkness.
As they drew closer, the outline sharpened into the unmistakable shape of a large transport aircraft. Its wings stretched wide across the narrow strip of cleared asphalt that served as a makeshift runway, the fuselage hunched low under camouflage netting and fresh snow.
A faint red glow leaked from the cockpit windows. The engines were already turning over with a low, throaty rumble that vibrated through the frozen ground.
Skorzeny stopped at the edge of the wing and slapped the metal skin once with his gloved hand. "Junkers Ju 290. Fully fueled, no markings. The pilot's waiting inside. We load up, we take off in ten minutes. No lights, no radio until we're over the border."
He turned, his breath fogging in the cold. "Fall Red starts tonight, gentlemen. Try not to cough up a lung, Maler. We still have a long flight ahead."
"They boarded the transport plane exactly at 2 a.m."
Heydrich looked at the ground for a moment.
"Then they finally received their true instructions, tailored to what you told me."
Paul nodded. He had long thought about a good strategy in regard to the Soviet Union. Since the invasion of Britain was coming soon, he couldn't use the Red Army barging in from behind.
Eight hours earlier, somewhere between the clouds.
The group of men crowded around a single table with a document lying on it. A small lamp illuminated the desk, flickering whenever turbulence occurred.
Another jolt of wind hit the roaring plane, shaking it to the core and nearly throwing the men to the ground. Gustaf flexed his forearm, gripping a metal strut on the bare hull, his eyes still fixed on the document.
"Read it again," Skorzeny said quietly, voice cutting through the engine drone. "From the top."
Berlin, 27. Februar 1941
Operational Order – Operation "Fall Red"
Sub-Operation: "Roter Schatten A B C"
Strictly Confidential – For the mission leader and selected participants only
Objective of the Operation:
To create deep distrust between Marshal Georgi Konstantinovich Zhukov and the Soviet high command. The mission aims to plant the suspicion that Stalin has once again turned paranoid and is preparing to purge his most successful generals. The Führer's strategic aim is to push the Red Army toward independent action and internal division.
To guarantee absolute secrecy, the operation is split into three completely compartmentalised teams. Each team will receive its own sealed sub-orders only. No participant is to know the tasks of the other teams or the full picture.
Skorzeny let out a long, heavy breath.
The full scale of the operation had finally revealed itself, and it was a plan that defied conventional logic. It looked like a roadmap for a future born from the highest and most secretive circles of power. He could only stand there, astonished by the sheer audacity of what was being asked.
He looked down at the three metallic boxes resting on the floor. Beside them lay three thick envelopes, each sealed with heavy wax.
"Distribute them," Skorzeny commanded, his voice cutting through the steady roar of the aircraft engines. "The letters and the boxes."
Maler stepped forward first. Skorzeny handed him the first set with a grim nod.
"Maler, you and the Gestapo will take Mission Roter Schatten A, according to this."He pointed at the document lying on the table.
Then came Gustaf. The leader of the Ghosts moved with heavy steps. Skorzeny passed him the second box, feeling a chill as their fingers brushed.
"Gustaf, the Ghosts take Mission Roter Schatten B."
Finally, Skorzeny gripped the third box.
"My special unit will take Mission Roter Schatten C."
The three groups parted immediately, moving toward different sections of the small airplane. Even in the cramped space, they created a distance between one another. It was as if the secrets they now held had already begun to isolate them. The atmosphere had turned chilly in just a few minutes.
Maler and Baumann walked toward the far end of the plane, leaning against the cold metal wall as the airframe vibrated with the roar of the engines.
"What they ask is... you understand what that means, right Maler?" Baumann whispered. He watched the other two groups through the dim light of the cabin. Gustaf had already opened his box.
"If we succeed... all of us... then..."
Baumann's voice crackled, failing him as the magnitude of the conspiracy before his eyes.
"A civil war erupts in the Soviet Union," Maler said, interrupting him coldly.
His demeanor had shifted instantly, turning into a mask of professional detachment.
"But Baumann, that is not our issue. We are here to follow orders. That is what we will do."
Slowly and carefully, Maler broke the wax seal and opened the letter.
Roter Schatten A
Placement of False Information (Gestapo)
The prepared documents, totaling fourteen pages, are to be discreetly placed inside the Kremlin in a location where Marshal Zhukov is likely to discover them himself. These papers include forged British-American reports, fabricated KGB transcripts allegedly ordered by Stalin, and "evidence" of secret orders to remove successful commanders before they become too popular with the masses.
The documents are manufactured to appear as captured originals and must look like something Zhukov has uncovered through his own initiative.
Contact persons, forged documents, further locations and technical information are located inside the provided case.
Good luck.
This letter is to be destroyed
"Hah." Maler and Gustaf sighed at the same time, their eyes meeting for a brief moment across the cabin.
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Gustaf glanced at Hermann beside him before reading his letter for the second time:
Roter Schatten B
Delivery of the Führer's Letter (Ghost team)
A sealed personal letter from the Führer to Marshal Zhukov is contained in the metal document case. The letter must be delivered intact and in person through the pre-arranged Soviet intermediary near Zhukov's headquarters (coordinates in the attached map). The courier will identify himself with the code phrase „Eisernes Kreuz".
Zhukov is expecting the contact.
Under no circumstances is the letter to fall into other hands!
Good luck
This letter is to be destroyed
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Skorzeny lit his cigarette, leaning back as the corner of his written orders began to burn.
Roter Schatten C
Phase 3 – Elimination of a Close Confidant (Special Operations Squad)
General Konstantin Rokossovsky, currently commander of the 16th Army and one of Zhukov's most trusted friends, is to be eliminated. The killing must appear as an internal NKVD operation or a "partisan ambush."
Weapons, poison, staging materials and additional intel are found in the metal case.
Good luck
This letter is to be destroyed
"All lights out, we are close to Soviet territory!" A nervous voice from the cockpit startled everyone out of their trance.
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