The 34th Degree

49

T he sun was rising over Algiers when the young aide showed an exhausted but excited Captain Erin Whyte to the terrace of the Moorish villa at Dar el Ouad, headquarters of the supreme allied commander of the North African theater.

She found Churchill seated outside in one of the wickerwork chairs, hunched over a map of Greece spread across two trestle tables. He was wearing a light suit and dark tie. The aide disappeared through the French doors, leaving her alone before the great man.

“General Eisenhower is out riding and won’t be back for another hour,” Churchill said without looking up from the map. “You have news for me?”

“Yes, sir,” Erin replied. “Colonel Huntington at Maison Blanche asked me to pass this along to you.” She handed him a signal. “It’s from Bern. Dulles says Andros was last seen at the railway station, boarding a train bound for Italy.”

“Italy?” Churchill read the signal and nodded with visible excitement. “That must mean they’ll ferry him over to Greece.”

“They already have, sir.” Erin passed a second signal along to Churchill. “SOE Cairo got word from Touchstone in Athens. Andros is arriving in Piraeus this morning aboard his own ship, the Independence .”

“Really, his own ship?” Churchill read the signal with an expression that Erin thought bordered on admiration. “Von Berg certainly has an original touch,” he commented. He looked up at her and said, “Touchstone also says the Baron arrived by plane in Athens yesterday, and Miss Vasilis the day before.”

“Yes, sir.”

“But we have no idea where they came from?”

“None, sir.”

Churchill frowned. “Sit down, Captain.” He gestured to a wickerwork chair and opened a file. “I confess I’m having second thoughts about dropping you into the Parnon Mountains to link up with the Greek andartes.”

Churchill’s second thoughts didn’t surprise her. She’d been through this with every male officer who briefed her before a mission, and she resented it. It was only a matter of time before the subject of Lyon would come up. “I’ve already gone over the flight route with MacDonald at the air base, sir,” Erin replied. “He sees no problems. To him, I’m just another supply drop.”

“Yes,” said Churchill, “but to me you’re still a woman, and a rather young woman at that.” He glanced at the file. “Why, you’re barely older than Andros.”

“Old enough to have survived two separate missions to France, sir.”

“So I see,” said Churchill. “It says here you were caught by the Gestapo in Lyon and were raped before you made a miraculous escape, killing”-here he did a double take-“ eight SS guards in the process. Unarmed, no less.”

Lyon was the nightmare of her life; the mere mention of it brought on horrific chills. It was all she could do to suppress her emotions and not break down before the prime minister. She crossed her legs and said in a determined voice, “An unpleasant experience, sir. But I’m over it.”

“Are you?” Churchill closed the file and eyed her. “According to this, you’ve quit your psychotherapy and have had problems taking orders from senior officers such as Colonel Prestwick. That’s why you’re a training instructor and not an agent in the field. Nobody can trust you.”

The pang of disappointment she felt at that moment was dimmed only by her repulsion at Churchill for bringing her this news. Here she was, she thought, only hours away from parachuting behind enemy lines, beginning to wonder who the enemy really was. Churchill might as well have said she was to blame for Lyon. Or that it was her fault that both her male psychoanalysts had tried to join her on the couch. Churchill was beginning to sound like all the rest, ready to use her now and blame her later. Men, she cursed, they’re all alike. That being the case, she’d rather face her fears than talk about them-or worse, run from them.

“Therapy has worked wonders for me, sir,” she answered dryly. “I’m ready to go back in the field.”

“You realize that you’ll be fighting an uphill battle to win the respect of the Greek partisans, not to mention eluding SS storm troopers?”

“Of course I do, sir.”

“Well, Captain, here are the new operation orders from the GHQ Middle East that you are to personally deliver to the National Bands of Greece.”

Churchill gave her the top-secret enciphered directive with these ends spelled out: 1. In event of invasion of the mainland of Greece: to harass enemy lines of communication and generally to support invasion plans. 2. If Axis troops attempt a general withdrawal from Greece or become disaffected: to attack, harass, and pursue them. 3. Should neither of the above occur: to be ready at a later date and, at the right moment, to promote general, organized, and coordinated revolt.

Erin frowned and passed the order back to Churchill, who lit the corner of the paper with the burning end of his Havana and dropped it into the Arabic ashtray.

“Something the matter, Captain?”

“I think it’s unconscionable to raise false hopes and mislead the Greeks into believing the U.S. Marines are on the way when that simply isn’t so. We’re invading Sicily.”

Churchill nodded as if he had anticipated her objection. “If the Greek andartes don’t believe the Allied invasion is coming, Captain, then neither will the Germans.”

“But we’re encouraging the Greeks to prematurely attack the German occupational forces in the false hope that we’ll be there to support them in large numbers. We’re sacrificing human lives for a lie, sir.”

“There are other forces at work here, Captain, forces that even Prestwick and the Americans aren’t aware of.” Churchill looked down at the map of Greece. “As things stand, the Greek Resistance is in a state of virtual civil war between the right-wing National Democratic Army of Greece-EDES-and the left-wing National Popular Liberation Army-ELAS. Unfortunately, EDES is no match for ELAS.”

“I’m aware of the situation, sir,” Erin assured him. “Our senior liaison to the National Bands, Colonel James Doughty, used to head the Greek desk at SOE Cairo. He’s been sending regular reports in from the field on the wireless.”

“Then you’re aware that ELAS is the military arm of the National Liberation Front, the largest and most powerful organization in Greece today,” Churchill went on. “Bills itself as a popular movement and has recruited thousands of good Greeks. But Doughty and our other liaison officers in Greece believe it’s controlled by the KKE.”

That was the Communist Party of Greece, established by the Soviet Comintern, Stalin’s international organization that exported communism abroad. Erin said, “I didn’t know that.”

“Neither do many Greeks,” said Churchill. “But today the National Popular Liberation Army almost completely dominates free Greece and exists in practically every town and village. Indeed, ELAS lays claim to being the regular army of ‘Free Greece.’ Full-scale elections are being planned after the Germans leave. I need not stress to you how harmful it would be to Greek interests if the Communists gained power after the war.”

Not to mention British interests, Erin thought. “In other words, that’s why you set up the National Bands as an umbrella organization to coordinate the Resistance. You want to strengthen the republican-backed National Democratic Army in order to check ELAS and prevent a Communist monopoly of power when Greece is finally liberated.”

“I want to ensure that Greece doesn’t slide into Stalin’s sphere of influence,” Churchill explained, “or else we’ll be worse off when this war is over than when it began. The last thing we need is for Russia to have a stronghold in the Mediterranean. She’d dominate southern Europe and have easy access to the Middle East. Change the balance of power forever. We have future wars to think of, Captain.”

“But we already have a senior liaison officer to the National Bands,” she said. “Why send me?”

“Because I believe Stalin has planted a double agent within the ranks of the National Bands,” Churchill told her. “A triple agent, in fact. Somebody who is passing along vital information from the GHQ Middle East to the Germans in Greece, information that betrays the location of our supply drops to non-Communist resistance forces and thus compromises their security to the Gestapo. Apparently, the Communists have discovered it’s cheaper to get the occupying Axis troops to do their dirty work for them. Meanwhile, they make overtures of peace toward us.”

So this was the real reason behind Churchill’s Greek adventure. Erin could see it all now. “You think Colonel Doughty could be a Soviet spy?”

Churchill shook his head. “Who this triple agent is, we don’t know-only that he goes by the code name of the Minotaur.”

“And you want me to find out who this Minotaur is.”

“That’s right,” said Churchill. “And Chris Andros is the key.”

“Andros?” Erin started. “Then you believe he might actually steal the Maranatha text?”

“I have my hopes, Captain,” said Churchill. “But it really doesn’t matter. As much of a coward as we might have made him appear to the Germans, Chris Andros is still the son of General Nicholas Andros. His arrival in Athens will be perceived as a political event of the first order as far as the Greek Resistance is concerned. You can be sure that republicans and Communists alike won’t take too kindly to the homecoming of a royalist.”

“But he’s not a royalist, sir,” Erin corrected. “He told me himself that he hopes Greece would form a republic based on the American model.”

“He’s not a royalist-yet,” said Churchill. “But he will be once he sees that the return of the monarchy is the only platform from which democratic reforms can take root in Greece. In any case, the prevailing perception of Andros is that he’s a chip off his old royalist father’s block. That may smoke out the Minotaur if he takes action. At the very least, if by some good fortune Andros actually comes out of Athens alive, I don’t want him to reach the National Bands base only to have his throat cut.”

Erin understood, and she realized something else. “So the submarine pickup with Prestwick is for me alone.”

“And the Maranatha text, Captain,” added Churchill. “Andros will stay behind to head the National Bands. By the time the Allies come around to liberating Greece, Andros will have earned the favor of the Greek people, thanks to his leadership within the Resistance. Also, as head of Andros Shipping, he will have the instant respect of the international business community and help restore the kingdom of Greece to its rightful place among the economies of Western Europe.”

“You mean democracies, sir, don’t you?”

“That’s right, democracies,” said Churchill. “So you see, I haven’t written Andros off just yet. I have plans for him. Big plans. Plans to give Greece a future and a hope. I made a promise to General Andros and the Greek people. Keeping it is the least we can do for the cradle of Western civilization. Wouldn’t you agree, Theseus?”

“Theseus?” Erin repeated.

“That’s your code name,” said Churchill. “That’s how you’ll identify yourself to all our agents in Greece.”

Erin sat back in her seat. “Isn’t that a rather provocative code name under the circumstances, sir?” she asked incredulously. “I mean, wasn’t Theseus the name of the Athenian prince of Greek mythology who entered the labyrinth and slew the Minotaur?”

“Ah, then you know how the story is supposed to end, Captain,” said Churchill, tossing the stub of his Havana into the ornamental ashtray. “For your sake and Andros’s, see that there are no surprise endings. Remember, the Minotaur will be expecting you.”