At his office next morning, Radl showed the letter to Hofer. "So we proceed, Karl, under conditions of the strictest secrecy. Let's go over everything again."Once more they studied the reports and maps.
"Mrs Grey is a good agen, Karl," Radl said. "But she's sixty-eight years old. She needs a man. Someone strong - but with brains too. Is there anyone suitable working in England at the moment?"
"No one," said Hofer. "But there's always the IRA, the Irish Republican Army." He opened a drawer and handed a file to Radl.
"Yes," said Radl. "Liam Devlin. He's still in Berlin?"
"So I understand."
"Get him! I want him here within an hour."
Hofer went out. Radl lit another cigarette and started to go through Devlin's file.
Liam Devlin had been born in 1908 in Northern Ireland. In 1921 his father, a poor farmer, was put to death by the English for helping the IRA. The boy was brought up by his uncle, a Catholic priest, and studied English at an Iris university. He had planned to be a writer.
But in 1931 he saw an anti-Catholic crowd attack his uncle's church and beat the old priest almost to death. From that moment Devlin gave himself to the IRA. He was highly valued for his cool efficiency when sent to kill informers in various countries.
In 1936 he fought is Spain. He was captured, and sentenced to life imprisonment. But in 1940 the German Abwehr had him brought to Berlin, hoping he would be useful to German intelligence. But Devlin, while anti-English, was also strongly anti-Nazi. So he was employed only as an English teacher at Berlin University.
Just before mid-day Hofer came back into the office. "I've got Devlin, Herr Colonel."
Radl thought quickly. Devlin would require careful handling. He was after all a neutral. The door opened and Radl turned.
Liam Devlin was small, with dark hair, pale face and brilliant blue eyes. He had the slightly twisted smile of a man who had found life a bad joke and had decided that the only thing to do was to laugh about it.
"Mr devlin." Radl held out his hand. "My name is Max Radl. It's good of you to come."
"That's nice," Devlin said. "I didn't think I had much choice in the matter."
Radl offered Devlin a cigarette and poured two drinks. Then he said, "We have work for you - if you're interested."
"I've got work."
"Teaching? Why, for a man like you that's like making a fine race-horse pull a milk cart."
Devlin laughed out loud. "Ah, Colonel, now you've found my weak spot - vanity. All right, what do you want?"
"Let me ask you somthing first. You are still a supporter of the IRA?"
"Soldier of," Devlin corrected him.
"So your aim is victory against England?"
"My aim is a free, united Ireland, yes. But I'll believe it when it happens, not before."
Radl was puzzled. "Then why fight?"
"Maybe it's just that I like playing the game," Devlin said. "It's a weakness of mine: I can never take anything too seriously."
"But you seriously wish to see Ireland free?"
"Yes."
"And you agree that the best way of achieving that aim would be for Germany to win the war?"
"And pigs might fly one of these days," Devlin told him, "but I doubt it."
"Then why stay here in Berlin?"
"You do, Mr Devlin," Radl said quietly. "You can go to England for me."
Devlin looked at him in amazement. "God save us, the man's mad," he said.
"No, Mr Devlin, quite sane, I assure you." Radl refilled Devlin's glass and passed the Churchill file to him. "Have another drink and read that file, then we"ll talk."
"Well?" Radl demanded eagerly after half an hour. "What do you think? Would it work?"
"It's mad enough to work," Devlin said. "To get the great Winston Churchill out of hisbed in the middle of the night and away with him." He laughed out loud. "That would stand the world on its ear in amazement."
"And you'd like that?"
"Of course." Devlin smiled hugely. He was still smiling when he added, "Of course, it wouldn't have the slightest effect on the war. But I'd hate to miss this little trip, if you're really serious.""You mean you're willing to go? But I don't understand. Why?"
"Just put it down to Irish madness," Devlin said, "Of course, we mustn't forget the twenty thousand pounds you're going to deposit in a Swiss bank for me."
Radl was disappointed. "So, Mr Devlin, you have your price like the rest of us?"
"The IRA has always been very short of money," Devlin smiled.
"Very well," said Radl. "I will see to it."
"Fine. So what are the arranngements.?"
"You leave in about a week. We'll parachute you into Southern Ireland and take a boat to England. You will have the papers of an Irish citizen who has fought with the British army; wounded and out of the army for medical reasons."
"And how do I contact Mrs Grey?"
"She'll be an old family friend who has found you a job in Norfolk. We'll see what she can arrange for you. What do you think?"
"It sounds reasonable," Devlin said.
"I'm going to see Colonel Steiner tomorrow. You could come too, couldn't you?"
"Why not, Colonel? Won't the same old bad roads all lead to hell in the end?"
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