The Suicide Exhibition: The Never War (Never War 1) by Justin Richards Read Free Book Online Page B

changed out of uniform,’ he said. ‘Ironic, really, as I’m the head of air defence for Scotland so it was me who despatched the planes to shoot this blighter down. Anything I should know before I speak to him?’
    ‘You mean apart from the fact that he is actually the Deputy Fuhrer, sir?’
    Lord Hamilton laughed. But the smile froze on his face. ‘My God – you’re serious, aren’t you?’
    ‘It’s Hess all right. I recognised him from newsreels and the press. But he made no secret of it to me. Do you know him, sir?’
    The Duke shook his head. ‘Rudolf Hess. Dear God… Did he tell you why he’s here?’
    ‘Refuses to talk to anyone but you, sir.’ He summarised what Hess had told him. ‘He said he wants to talk about the Vril, if that means anything?’
    Hamilton frowned. ‘Possibly.’
    ‘And he said it’s about the Coming Race, which I assume issome Aryan Nazi propaganda.’
    Hamilton’s frown deepened. ‘You would think so, wouldn’t you. But I’m not sure. It is also the title of a novel. Very well.’ He turned to go.
    Guy made to follow, but Hamilton shook his head. ‘I speak passable German, Major. I’ll see him alone. At least to begin with. We have met once before, back in ’36, I think. Once I’ve gained his trust…’
    ‘Then I’ll wait outside. In case you need me, sir.’ Guy did his best to hide his disappointment. He was intrigued, he couldn’t deny it. What the hell was really going on here?
    Hess was brought back to the room. He nodded to Guy as Matthews led him inside. A moment later, Matthews emerged again.
    ‘Doesn’t want you in there either?’ Guy said.
    ‘There’s a colonel on his way up from London,’ Matthews said. ‘Looks like I get all the meeting and greeting jobs, sir.’
    ‘You must be good at it.’
    He leaned against the wall by the door, straining to hear what was going on inside the room. But all he could make out was the faint burr of indistinct conversation. He replayed what Hess had said in his mind, but it still made little sense. Why had the man come here – to the enemy? Whatever the reason it was important to him. It wasn’t a step he has taken lightly.
    Guy stepped back sharply as the door opened. Through it he could see Hess still sitting at the desk. The man did not turn round.
    The Duke of Hamilton’s forehead was filmed with sweat, and he was deathly pale. His eyes had a startled, haunted look about them. He stared at Guy, opened his mouth to say something. But then he looked past him, along the corridor.
    Pentecross turned to see Matthews returning. With him was a colonel – tall and thin with narrow features and close-cut dark hair.
    Hamilton dabbed at his face with a folded handkerchief. ‘I have to talk to Whitehall,’ he said. His voice was shaking asmuch as his hand. ‘Someone in authority. The implications…’
    ‘You can start with me, sir,’ the colonel said. ‘Perhaps then my journey won’t have been a complete waste. I’m Colonel Brinkman.’ He obviously knew who the Duke was, presumably from Corporal Matthews.
    Hamilton was getting some colour back in his features and his relief was obvious. ‘Of course, Colonel. Perhaps you can make sense of what I’ve just heard.’
    ‘Perhaps.’ Brinkman glanced at Guy. ‘And you are?’
    Guy straightened to attention. It felt strange not being in uniform. ‘Major Pentecross, sir. Foreign Office.’
    Brinkman’s mouth twitched as he considered. Then: ‘You won’t be needed, Major. Dismissed.’
    In something of a daze, Guy allowed Matthews to lead him back through the base. He was angry and tired, but also intrigued and mystified. When he got back to London he was going to demand that Chivers tell him what the hell was going on.
    They emerged into the morning light at the edge of a large parade ground. Matthews said something about organising transport to the station and how often the trains ran to London. But Guy barely heard him.
    He was staring at a soldier leaning