Page 51 of Tides of Resistance
Lizzie assured him he could, her heart pumping fast as she waited for what he might disclose.
‘We aim to build an underground command complex with subterranean installations, the likes of which the world has never seen. The scale of the construction will be over 1.5 km long and the walls two meters thick. The tunnelled complex will comprise an underground rail track, a telephone communication exchange, a radio station, a water reservoir, powerful generators and more. We will be completely self-sufficient, and it will be a magnificent feat in German engineering that will protect our soldiers from aerial attack and bombardment. I predict after we win this war, people will flock from all over the world to witness the wonder of our military engineering.’
Lizzie turned cold, and goosebumps covered her skin, but she listened closely and committed every word to memory. There was no possibility of taking photographs or notes. The intelligence the SOE needed would depend entirely on her remembering every critical word of this conversation.
‘What a clever idea. Did you think of it?’
He straightened his shoulders and looked every bit the epitome of the blond bird of prey his name depicted. ‘Let’s just say, I’ve always thought on a grand scale, and the Führer’s orders are to build an impregnable line of defence to stop any possibility of an invasion from our enemies across the Channel. That’s what I mean to build for him.’
Lizzie made suitable comments and gestures to coax him along and show how dazzled by his brilliance she was, even as her stomach swirled with a mixture of dread and excitement that she was a first-hand witness to the creation of the very plans she had been sent to St. Malo to extract.
‘I’m sure the Führer will be impressed when you win the war, and he will reward your ingenuity accordingly,’ she said, praying fervently that no such day would come to pass.
‘You are most kind. I am pleased you can appreciate the scale of the vision and the challenge of such a massive construction. It really is a rare woman who can discuss such topics. I imagine it’s being around Monsieur Beaumont that has piqued your interest.’
Lizzie agreed that usually she had no interest in such manly pursuits, but since taking the photographs and listening to Heinrich, she found it compelling. Her heart beating faster at her increasing boldness and the risk that accompanied it, she said, ‘Your vision excites me greatly, Herr Alder.’
‘Heinrich,’ he admonished, but his lips formed a triumphant smile, and she could see she had stoked his ego.
‘Heinrich,’ she said obediently. ‘You must forgive me. I have never been in the presence of a high-ranking military officer like yourself. I confess I’m a little in awe.’
If the SS officer hadn’t been bowled over by Lizzie’s attention before, his enthusiasm blossomed, and he expanded on his plans for the Atlantic Wall construction. ‘I will oversee the entire project. The responsibility is a great honour,’ he added, his silken voice low and serious.
‘You could say you keep the whole of France safe from the English,’ Lizzie ventured, hoping she hadn’t gone too far.
‘That is my mission exactly.’
He preened, so she continued. ‘You don’t think the English will come?’
Then his grey-blue eyes turned to ice, and his deep voice was steel-edged as he met her enquiring gaze. ‘The English will never land in France. I will see to that.’
Lizzie didn’t say anymore, not wanting to appear too eager for the Germans to win the war. He might suspect her of beinginsincere, and she had to nurture his trust. She’d come too far to risk his displeasure now.
They exited the car, and Lizzie felt the cool sea breeze on her face and was grateful to be out of the confined space.
Heinrich gestured towards the sea and the mouth of the River Rance from their elevated position. ‘From here we control access and monitor the harbour and the estuary. No invasion will be possible on my watch,’ he said.
Lizzie spotted Dinard across the estuary.
Her hair escaped its clip and blew into her eyes. ‘Where are the Channel Islands from here?’ she asked, her voice portraying a slightly dizzy female.
Heinrich pointed out to sea and talked about the German supply routes to the Channel Islands. ‘On a clear day I can sometimes glimpse Jersey. It is a small island with the most beautiful beaches.’
A hard lump formed in Lizzie’s throat, and she had to fight back the prickles in her eyes.
Jersey was her weak spot and always riled her up. This was almost too much to bear, but she had no choice if she wished to get the information the War Cabinet needed for the Allies to liberate her home from continuous occupation.
‘It’s only around 22 kilometres away. Have you ever visited, Rose?’ He continued his torturous commentary.
Her face grew hot again, and she battled to keep herself from betraying the intense feelings raging within her as this loathsome Nazi talked of her island as though it was his property, and she was merely an outsider who might be allowed to visit one day.
‘Many years ago,’ she said, each word like a rock as she forced her response.
‘Perhaps we may visit together. If it is of interest to you, of course? I can’t tell you more, but Jersey features heavily in our fortification plans.’
The enquiring look Lizzie gave him was genuine.
‘The Führer is immensely proud of our capturing the Channel Islands from right under Churchill’s nose. The islands will be part of the Thousand-Year Reich.’ He said the prime minister’s name as if it were a filthy word.
