Previously: Mercenary Leon fails on a mission because of David, better known as Edward the Prince of Wales. Socialite Wallis Spencer, also a spy, has an affair with German Joachim Von Ribbentrop and marries Ernest. David becomes king. Wallis divorces, David abdicates and they marry. On their honeymoon they derail a train. Now they’re on their way to kill Hitler.
On the morning of their last day in Germany, David tried to relax in Adolf Hitler’s private train car on their way to the Fuhrer’s Wolf’s Lair in Berchtesgaden. He and Wallis would be guests of honor at an afternoon tea attended by every Nazi political leader in the German Alps. Perhaps the same dignitaries would be there who attended the military policy conference in January 1935 where David had secreted himself into the affair dressed as a waiter. He wearied of all the tours of the training schools for the elite death squads of the SS, the Berlin War Museum, the Pergamon Museum and finally a boring dinner at the home of field Marshal Hermann Goering who incessantly complained that the Fuhrer had stolen his model train set. Goering informed David that while he was attending the official tea, Hitler had restricted him from the train room. Goering wanted David–if he were invited to see the trains–to please report back to him on their condition.
All that was left to complete their mission was the most important task: to kill Adolf Hitler.
MI6 handed the assignment to Wallis, which nettled David. He could not understand how they could have passed over his plans for the murder for any method that the American woman devised. Sighing, David leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes to convince himself schwermut once again held him in its grip.
He wanted to complete this mission and go home, except he had no home to go to. If it were within his power he would return to his beloved Fort Belvedere and putter in its gardens, but the abdication made that wish impossible to come true. He didn’t even have family any more. George was always good for a laugh. Bertie could be sympathetic and supportive. Frankly, he didn’t give a damn about Harry. David was, for all intents and purposes, a non-entity. Most of all he missed his friend and confidante Louis Mountbatten. But his mother the queen ordered him and Wallis to be persona non grata.
Not that Wallis was not entirely unpleasant as companions went. She could always make him laugh, and didn’t all the experts on marriage say a good sense of humor was vital? And he liked the way she would slap his hand if he picked up a leaf of lettuce from a salad bowl on which to nibble. His own mother would have said not a thing, raised her eyebrow and made a note to his governess to lecture him on table manners the next morning. The occasional slap at the dinner table was all the exchange they had which could be interpreted as love.
Of course, David had to admit this love conundrum was his fault. His romantic habits began with the insistence that his paramours be another men’s wives. That way he would never be bothered by those pesky notions of love. The closest he had come to a deeper emotional connection was Thelma and Freda, but they were so far in the past they were hardly worth thinking about any more.
Wallis nudged him. “Wake up. It’s time to go kill us a Nazi madman.”
A rough elbow to the ribs. A terribly insensitive joke. Close enough to pass off as love for right now.
A chauffeur in a black Mercedes convertible greeted them at the station. All sorts of SS guards on motorcycles and cockroach automobiles with Nazi flags unfurled surrounded them.
“God, I hope this guy drives better than Dr. Ley,” Wallis whispered as they slid into the back seat. “On these mountain roads he could drive off a cliff.
“That wouldn’t be good,” David replied.
“Damn right. It would wrinkle my dress.”
David laughed the rest of the way up the mountain to Berchtesgaden and the Wolf’s Lair which was ten times more elegant than it was when he valeted there a couple of years ago. Hitler himself waited on the grand front steps for their limousine to pull up to a gentle stop and let the semi-royal couple alight. The Fuhrer looked dapper in brown Nazi Party jacket, black trousers and black shoes, which did not quite match Wallis’s tailored navy blue suit draped with a fox stole dyed black, David thought, but everything could not be perfect.
After a round of hearty handshakes and fake kisses to cheeks, Hitler led them into an entry hall and through doors to the large room where the previous conference was held. “Before our other guests arrive for the tea, I would like a private word with his majesty,” he requested in a voice quite different from his usual oratorical glory.
Wallis smiled and nodded in acquiescence. Hitler led David through a couple sets of doors until he arrived at his model train room. David took a moment to stop and consider the magnificence of a collection previously thought to belong in the world of little boys’ dreams.
“Follow me.” Hitler gracefully went down on all fours to crawl under the immense miniature world.
David, without a second thought, did the same—drop to his knees, crawl and stare at the Fuhrer’s butt for the next twenty seconds. Because he was well bred in the house of Windsor, David made no reference to the inconvenience but did pronounce the layout of tiny buildings, mountains and choo choos to be the most glorious he had ever seen in his life.
“Yes, I enjoy it very much,” Hitler replied trying to sound humble. “Ach, you should have seen it in the basement of Herr Goering’s house. He had built it for his children’s amusement.” He looked at David and shook his head. “Can you imagine such perfection being ruined with awkward children’s fingers all over it?”
“A sacrilege.” David considered himself a superb liar, but his years with Wallis had polished his skills so they shone with the brilliance of the diamonds in the crowns on display at the Tower of London.
“As you well surmised, I brought you here for more than just displaying the ‘New Europe’.” He paused as he often did when delivering an important message to world. “I want to assure you that Germany has only one enemy in the world at this point in time, the Soviet Union….”
David tuned out the rest of the diatribe. He had heard it many times over the radio, but one phrase used by the Fuhrer did catch his attention. He described his model train layout of the “New Europe.” David casually looked around the huge diorama and noticed red tape marked the boundary of Germany. That red boundary included sizable amounts of Austria. He felt rage rising from his abdomen.
“No, no, no.” His declaration was not issued loudly but with a determination that even Hitler could not overlook.
“I beg your pardon, Your Royal Highness?”
“Umm.” His mind scrambled for an explanation. “Wallis and I just honeymooned in the Austrian Alps and the Austrian pine tree is not that exact shade of green. Not that bright. Not that garish. They are a darker hue, which is indicative of deep, strong roots.”
Hitler smiled. “You are well known for your attention to details. I didn’t know it went that far.” He guided David to another section. “Now over here you will not be able to pick out inconsistencies because it only exists in my imagination.”
A moment passed before David realized he beheld a new Berlin of marble and gold. Giant buildings and broad avenues. Stadia which could seat half a million people. Almost Roman or Greek except without the curved columns and recognizable symmetry. No. These giants sprang from architectural genius that created a new esthetic which bespoke massive strength and eternal domination.
“Isn’t it glorious?” Hitler whispered, entirely too close to David’s ear. “Our buildings will make more magnificent ruins than the Greeks.”
David stepped away. “Yes, think of the jobs they will bring to the lower classes. All German men will stand proud. Their families will never go hungry again.”
Like a well-trained border collie, Hitler herded David to one last niche of his “New Europe.” It was a replica of London. He had not changed it much. More open park space. David could not quite figure out which buildings were gone, but Buckingham Palace was still there. His eyes widened as he focused on the balcony where two figures in full royal regalia stood.
Himself and Wallis.
David was on the verge of twitching and he couldn’t figure out which emotion was overcoming him at the moment. “How wonderful. Thank you for showing it to me. I’m getting a bit claustrophobic in here. Perhaps we should rejoin Wallis for tea. She has such a ravenous appetite. For all things.” With that, David went to his knees and began crawling through the underground of “New Europe.”
“No, please,” Hitler stammered. “I must always lead.” He at once fell to his knees and scrambled to catch up.
By the time David made it through and stood, he could see Hitler’s head emerging. He fancied kicking the Fuhrer’s temple and as he rolled over moaning, David would stomp the leader’s throat with the heel of his shoe. David knew he would be instantly executed for assassination, but his schwermut told him “What the hell, life wasn’t worth living anyway.”
Wallis burst through the door right then. “There you are. We’ve been looking for you. Herr Goering thought you might be playing with your toy trains. David, you look so happy. I should buy you a choo choo for Christmas.”