Those Who Dare - [Raiding Forces 01] Read online

  “I’ve got a lot of confidence in you, kid.”

  As soon as Lieutenant Seaborn was gone, Lady Jane gave Major Randal a short briefing on what they would be doing for the next week. “You are entering the clandestine world of cloak-and-dagger, and there is no turning back,” she explained. “Once in, never out.

  “From this point on, John, everything I am about to tell you is classified ‘Most Secret.’ It is also restricted to ‘Need to Know,’ and until I inform you differently, no one other than the two of us has a need to know.”

  “I see.”

  “I need to hear you say that these instructions are clear and that you agree to comply with them.”

  “Wilco. That means I understand and will comply.”

  “I am perfectly aware of what ‘Wilco’ means.”

  “Now, if I had just said ‘Roger’—”

  “That would have meant you understood but did not give any assurance you would comply. Now, will you be serious—”

  “Wilco.”

  “The names, and even the initials, of the organizations I am going to brief you on are classified. None of them officially exist.”

  “So we’re not officially having this conversation, right?”

  “I rather thought you were going to be a fast learner.”

  “Thank you.”

  “The first thing I am going to do is introduce you to my boss, Brigadier Collin Gubbins, the director of Training and Operations for Special Operations Executive, also known as SOE. The brigadier is a specialist in irregular warfare.

  “SOE was created by combining a group known as EH (for the Electra House, where they previously had their offices), which studied ways to undermine German military morale; a department from the War Office MI(R) that had a mission somewhat overlapping that of Section D; and the original Section D from the Secret Intelligence Service.

  “SOE has been given the brief by the prime minister to ‘set Europe ablaze.’ We are in what might be described as the dirty tricks business. Our mission is direct action, as opposed to intelligence gathering.

  “We are going to spend some time with Major Lawrence Grand, the rather flamboyant head of SOE’s Section D. The D stands for ‘destruction.’ I think you’re going to like Lawrence. Take note: He’s the man we need to make our best impression on—for the present.”

  “I’m not good with first impressions.”

  “Do try, John.”

  “Wilco.”

  “Thank you. Now, the Secret Intelligence Service, sometimes called the British Secret Service, shall be significantly more difficult for Raiding Forces to establish a relationship with. I do not expect to accomplish more with SIS at present than a brief introduction. SIS is also known as MI-6, and sometimes we refer to it as the ‘Old Firm’ because so many SOE people used to work there, myself included. They refer to themselves as ‘Broadway.’

  “Considerable friction exists between MI-6 and SOE. The Secret Intelligence Service has been conducting espionage for ages; Special Operations Executive has been going only a few months, which makes it the junior service by about three hundred years.

  “What you need to keep in mind, John, is that SIS operatives take excessive pride in being the old-school, button-down professionals and tend to look down their noses at SOE, considering it a motley collection of bunglers and amateurs. SOE is composed of barristers, bankers, cat burglars, movie stars, magicians, safe crackers, and snake charmers, with a sprinkling of renegade RAF, Royal Navy, and British Army officers. It is an eclectic gang of cutthroats, by any measure.”

  “Sounds like a fun bunch of guys.”

  “And girls.”

  “They have you, Lady Jane. How are they fixed for belly dancers?”

  Humoring him with a much-put-upon smile, she continued, “The various agencies, departments, initials, and numbers can be quite daunting at times. What is important to understand is that although MI-6 and SOE have two completely different briefs, they both operate in the same places at the same times against the same enemy. Occasionally they work together on certain things, but most often they go their own ways.

  “As I pointed out, MI-6 is charged with intelligence gathering. Unfortunately, Broadway did not have one single agent in place in France at the outbreak of hostilities.”

  “I thought SIS was supposed to be the best secret service in the world,” Major Randal interjected.

  “Well, it seems that before the war, MI-6 had a certain gentlemen’s agreement with the French Intelligence Service—the Bureau Central de Renseignements et d’Action—not to spy on each other.”

  “Lovely.”

  “Yes. Well, now MI-6 is scrambling to recruit and put intelligence agents into place in occupied France as rapidly as it can. At the same time, SOE is working just as fast and furiously, developing plans to build up arms caches, insert sabotage agents, and organize local resistance movements. Gathering secret intelligence requires stealth, guile, and discretion, and is entirely covert by nature.

  “Blowing up a railroad or assassinating a Nazi official, on the other hand, is an overt act designed to destroy a specific target, while at the same time calling attention to the fact that we did it and will do it again somewhere else at a time and place of our choosing. SOE is a bang-crash-wham outfit that likes to advertise. Our operatives do not know the meaning of the word ‘subtlety,’ and discretion is not in our mission statement.

  “So you see, John, what is good for SOE is not automatically good for MI-6. In fact, it can at times be disastrous, and that is cause for some of the friction between the two organizations.”

  “I know you have a plan,” Major Randal said. “Where do you see Raiding Forces fitting into the picture?”

  “Even though MI-6 maintains a decidedly low profile, there is, from time to time, the need for it to conduct a ‘direct action’ mission. Strategic Raiding Force could handle such missions. And SOE will have a lot of tasks that we can perform.”

  “I see.”

  “At the moment, however, there’s quite a bit of secret-agent, double-agent, and possibly even triple-agent intrigue in play between SOE and MI-6. Both organizations are suspicious to the point of being paranoid about each other, and rightfully so. You and I must always be careful to portray Raiding Forces as perfectly neutral. Our goal is to do business with both organizations.”

  “Good plan.”

  “There’s a fledgling escape and evasion group, MI-9, just getting going,” Lady Jane continued. “Its brief is to set up escape lines for British soldiers left behind in France and downed RAF fliers. While it is not fully operational as of yet, this is a good time to introduce ourselves and explore any possible areas of common purpose. We are also going to meet with an ultra hush-hush organization called the Political Warfare Executive: PWE.”

  “What could Raiding Forces possibly have to offer an agency involved with politics?” Major Randal asked.

  “PWE is charged with attacking economic targets and generating black propaganda.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “They operate against strategic targets that affect the German economy or currency, and they produce portrait-quality, high-grade pornography.”

  “Let’s meet with them first.”

  “I knew you’d say something like that. What they do is serious business, John.”

  “Sounds serious to me.”

  “PWE obtains photos of Germany’s most famous field marshals, generals, fighter aces, panzer leaders, and so forth. Then they doctor up the photos to depict the subjects in compromising situations and mail the fake copies anonymously to their wives, girlfriends, or even to their mothers.”

  “That ain’t fighting fair.”

  “Reportedly, the program has caused a number of unhappy problems for certain hearts and minds belonging to some of Germany’s finest,” Captain Lady Seaborn confirmed with a chuckle.

  “I bet it has. I thought you said undermining morale was the mission of one of the three agencies t
hat were combined to form SOE.”

  “You were listening! Originally it was, but that particular function— psychological warfare—was carved out and transferred to PWE. It is confusing, John, and some of the shuffling of intelligence responsibilities does not always seem entirely logical. Not one of the organizations I have briefed you on has any fighting troops assigned. Our goal is to establish Raiding Forces as the action arm available on call to the intelligence community: ready, willing, and able to carry out their direct action missions. My plan is to set up Raiding Forces as the private army of the secret services. The Germans have one for the Abwehr called the Brandenburg Training Company.”

  “What do you get out of all this, Jane?”

  “A real job,” she answered without the least hesitation.

  “Don’t you have one now?”

  “Not really. After Mallory was killed, I was invited to volunteer for the Secret Intelligence Service because of my language skills and my family connections. Naturally, I was accepted and sent through agent training straight away.”

  “You can throttle a German attack dog with your bare hands, as I recall. How many dogs would you say you have actually strangled, Jane?”

  “I got to you with that one, didn’t I?” she teased. “John, you’re so easy. At any rate, it eventually began to dawn on me that I was never going to be allowed to parachute into France by moonlight on a secret mission, even though I had performed well in training. The training schools were merely a way of keeping me out of harm’s way. I suspect MI-6 sent me to every finishing school they have. Then the SOE transfer occurred and the exact same drill began all over again.

  “If you and I pull this off, my plan is to serve as Raiding Forces’ liaison officer to the intelligence community. I might even talk you into letting me organize your service and support troops, which, in case you have not noticed, I have been doing already.”

  “Sergeant Major Hicks has informed me, on numerous occasions, that I need a batman.”

  “I am quite serious, John.”

  “I know you are, Jane, and I know good advice when I hear it.”

  “I have desperately hoped you would see it that way. Not every officer in your position would.”

  “Well, that doesn’t mean I’m willing to be responsible for you jumping out of airplanes over enemy territory with a knife in your teeth for King and Empire either.”

  “All I want is to do something meaningful,” she persisted. “It isn’t fair to be forced into an inconsequential assignment simply because I happen to be a woman, or to be sheltered because of my social position.”

  “Here’s the deal,” Major Randal said. “You can write your own ticket with Raiding Forces just as long as it doesn’t involve participation in direct combat operations.”

  “I love you, John.”

  “That’s probably what you tell all your commanding officers.”

  “Only the ones with the moral fiber not to let me push them around too terribly much.” Lady Jane flashed her best man-killer smile. “You turned out to be a lot tougher than you look.”

  “Speaking of morals,” Major Randal said, suddenly hoping to change the subject, “now that I think about it, don’t forget—my picture has been in the newspapers. So if a package of eight-by-ten glossies of me ever turns up in the mail, be advised that the Germans probably play the same exact same ‘hearts and minds’ game PWE does.”

  “In your case, Major, sir, they would not have to go to the trouble of faking the photographs. All the Abwehr would have to do is tail you and that alley cat Terry Stone with a camera on any given weekend.”

  Major Randal was beginning to suspect that Captain Lady Jane Seaborn just might be even more capable than he had originally thought, which, as he recalled from their first meeting, would make her very, very capable. Reflecting on Miss UCLA and Lady Jane, Major Randal realized he’d always been attracted to beautiful, smart women. “Does this conclude your briefing?”

  “This concludes my briefing. What are your questions?”

  “Can I tell Terry about the PWE porno ring?”

  ~ * ~

  20

  D FOR DESTRUCTION

  BEFORE THEY LEFT THE RESTAURANT, CAPTAIN LADY JANE Seaborn had a surprise for Major John Randal. Without fanfare, she produced a small, expensive, green leather box from her purse and slid it across the table to him.

  “John, I would like you to have this.”

  “I can’t accept any more gifts from you, Jane.”

  “Yes, you can,” she said with a gentle smile.

  The green leather box lay there between them.

  “Open it, please, John.”

  At a loss for anything to say, he flipped open the lid. Inside was a rugged, black-faced Rolex Oyster wristwatch with Coke-bottle-shaped, green luminous hands, large green digits, and an adjustable bezel ring numbered ten through fifty. The Rolex was the best military timepiece he had ever laid eyes on.

  “Nice watch.”

  Lady Jane took the Rolex out of the box, popped the steel bracelet, and slipped it on his wrist. “My plan was for it to be a birthday surprise for my husband, Mallory.”

  Major Randal did not know what to do with that piece of information. It was a real conversation stopper.

  “After Mallory saw the Rolexes the Royal Navy purchased for hard-hat divers,” Captain Lady Seaborn continued, “he desperately wanted one. Rolex Oysters are waterproof to two hundred meters; salt air will not cause them to rust. He said it was the best sailor’s watch ever made. Unfortunately for Mallory, the navy limited the issue to hard-hat divers only, and no matter how hard he tried, he was unable to obtain one. I contacted the Rolex factory in Geneva. This watch is an exact copy of the Royal Navy diver’s model.”

  “I never met your husband, but it sure seems he had world-class taste in all things fine.”

  “Why, John, I do believe you just paid me a compliment.”

  “If I accept the watch, am I inheriting it from your husband?”

  “No, Mallory never knew about it. His ship sortied the day the war broke out, and I never had the opportunity to give it to him before he was lost at sea. I want you to have it, John.”

  The Rolex felt really good on his arm, almost as good as the warm glow he was getting from Lady Jane cupping his hand in both of hers.

  “I know it seems silly to you, John, but remember: British officers are obsessed with trivial details. Rightly or wrongly, they judge people on trifling, inconsequential things.”

  “So you’ve told me.”

  “This Rolex is sure to catch the eye of every officer who sees it. But John, impressing people has nothing to do with why I decided you should have it. I want you to believe that.”

  “Why do you want me to have it?”

  “Because the thought of you wearing it makes me feel good,” she said, sounding uncharacteristically vulnerable.

  “You’re a hard woman to say no to.”

  “Does that mean I’m growing on you?”

  “Jane, if you grew on me any more, we’d be Siamese twins.”

  She hesitated for a second, trying to decipher if he was teasing or not. Suddenly, her eyes sparkled with pleasure.

  He had to admit, he really liked it when her eyes did that. Spending time alone with Lady Jane always felt like a rare, special privilege, and it gave him a strange, fine feeling ... not one he had previous experience with.

  ~ * ~

  A short walk from the Bradford Hotel took them to the headquarters of the newly formed Special Operations Executive. The office space where they exited the elevator had once been the head office of the firm Marks & Spencer, barristers during peacetime. The receptionist smiled and said, “He is expecting you.”

  Brigadier Collin Gubbins, MC, Royal Artillery, stood up the moment the two walked into his large office. He was a soldier with an unorthodox military past. Only recently he had organized the super-secret stay-behind underground sleeper forces, the British Resistance Organization’s
Auxiliary Units, designed to rise and wage guerrilla war after Hitler invaded England. They were in place now, lying in wait and ready to swing into action in the event of invasion, which could come at almost any time.

  A shortish Scotsman in his mid-forties, with clipped speech, the brigadier appeared to have boundless energy. “So, you are Lady Jane’s American friend, the pinprick fellow. Congratulations on your well-deserved Military Cross, Major. A nice bit of work, that!”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “Lady Jane, you are planning to show him around, are you not? Introduce him to a few of our people?”