A Short Story by Ernest N.Whitenack
~ CHAPTER THREE ~
The Frankfurt/Main Flughafen bustled as usual with business men and tourists. There were no delays at customs or immigration. Clancy was soon on the road. At Stuttgart the rental car agent made no visible reaction to his precise request for a better car. She apologized and passed him the keys to a white BMW. Ian signed the necessary papers and started for the door.
Section IV, Paragraph 2. Words spoken to ones back after giving a recognition code are to be considered instructions. The words soon, after and today indicate immediate action is to be taken.
Many Years had passed since Clancy had thought of the P-section “Rule Book”. And yet, he knew he could recite it word for word. He knew that he would also recognize any of the codes passed to him.
Winding cobbled streets, beam and stucco buildings and numerous open squares hide the sophisticated atmosphere of those European cities that escaped the intensive bombing of the last world war. Freiberg was, for the most part, purely old world. You would never suspect this charming city of one hundred eighty four thousand to be a financial and educational center.
Jet lag settled in as Clancy climbed the stairs of the Gasthof Freiberg. The large leather suitcase found in the trunk of the rented BMW was heavy causing his legs to labor on the steep stairs of the old building. Once behind the locked door of room 15, Clancy removed his shoes, jacket and shirt before opening the big case. All of the clothes were exactly his size and slightly used. Labels from New York, New Hampshire and Washington substantiated residence and occupation for Gordon Frank, political journalist. The 32 caliber automatic in its leg holster was a surprise as was the half pound of Sherlock’s Choice. He had to hurry to hide the weapon, the box of shells and three empty clips, as the waiter knocked. Clancy never finished the lunch of Wurst Salad, hard rolls and Mosel wine. Sleep came fast and deep.
Somewhere in the distance church bells were ringing and stirred Clancy from fourteen hours of unconsciousness. The shrill tone of the telephone finished the job.
Hot water pounded on his back and neck, kneading away the stiffness brought on by the long sleep. Clancy tried to decide which was best; a good night’s sleep or a hot, high pressure shower. He decided that the combination is one of the great pleasures in his life. Especially when followed by a good dry-off with a thick towel such as provided by the Gasthof Freiberg. He picked the gray tweed, blue shirt and brown brogues after strapping the “32” just above his right ankle. At exactly 8:20 he locked the door to room 15 and started down the stairs. The sign with an arrow pointed him to the Früstücksraum -Breakfast Chamber. It wasn't a large room although it seemed spacious because of the large window that supplied light for the many plants that hung and stood there. He remembered the screened porch so far away now in distance and, so he felt, time. The waiter brought a basket of crusty rolls and a plate filled with a variety of vacuum packed cold cuts, foil sealed butter and jam and asked if he would like coffee and for the number of his room. Clancy also ordered orange juice and answered all questions in unfailing German.
Clancy looked up at the sound and a flash of recognition surged through
his brain and was gone. The bow was stiff and the hand shake, one short
pump. He was a big man dressed in a black silk suit, white shirt and a
black tie with silver stripes. The black hair above his ruddy face was
combed straight back and clipped high above his ears.
Clancy ate in silence working his brain to remember who the man is.
The drive through the quaint streets of Freiberg was interesting and
pleasurable for Clancy while Von Schmidt pointed out all historical sights
and important buildings along the way. The entry room of the Administration
Building was lined with ornately carved dark oak panels adorned with large
portraits running along the left and right walls. It was noted that the
paintings were of previous dignitaries of the school.
As Von Schmidt filled, tamped and lit his pipe, the scent of vanilla filling the room, he went on to answer Clancy and relate the events of that time.
Clancy listened intently and with great interest in the big man who sat
quietly in Doctor Arsenault’s office so long ago listening to Clancy’s
escape plan being formed. Thinking back to that time, he never thought
from the man’s dirty blue work coveralls and passive demeanor that
he was a high ranking German officer-double agent, and not just a French
Von Schmidt leaned back in his large office chair, looked slightly stern and replied;
Copyright © Ernest N. Whitenack 2015
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