Miss Atkins reached for the lighter lying on the desk next to the ashtray. “I can only tell you that it has been made abundantly clear to me that our ability to take back Europe hinges on knowing what the Germans are thinking. What they are planning. What they believe we will do and from where we will launch our attacks. We need to know where they will position their troops and tanks and planes and ships in anticipation of our operations.” A flame jumped as she lit her cigarette. “We need to have the ability to listen, and we need to have it as soon as possible.”

Sophie remained silent, waiting for Miss Atkins to continue.

“Hitler and his High Command have adopted this particular device to send communications to military headquarters throughout occupied Europe. Including those in France. Our listening stations have picked up renewed traffic.”

“I’m being sent to France.” It was a peculiar feeling saying those words out loud. A realization that everything up until now had led to this point. That this was exactly where she was supposed to be.

“Yes.” The silver lighter was returned to the desk with care. “To Paris. You will, ideally, be in and out of France within four weeks.”

“And there is one of these encryption machines there? In Paris?”

“The Ritz Hotel is headquarters of the Luftwaffe, and Reichsmarschall Hermann Göring, one of Hitler’s closest confidants, occupies the Imperial Suite at the hotel. Intelligence that has, regrettably, only now come to our attention suggests that the existence of one of these machines in the hotel is a possibility. And crumbs of possibility, enough to leave a bread trail at this juncture of the war, are more than enough to make us take action.”

“That sounds quite irregular. Having a machine like that in a hotel?”

“I can assure you, it’s not. There have been other efforts to capture cipher machines in other hotel headquarters.” Miss Atkins’s gaze seemed to grow distant for a moment before she came back to herself. “Should something happen to Hitler, it is very possible that Göring would be the man to step in to the Führer’s role, given his rank within the Reich. It is not unreasonable to believe that he might have communication equipment at his immediate disposal within Luftwaffe’s headquarters.”

“The machine would need to be protected. And there would be operators.” Sophie’s mind was already racing.

“A team of three, maybe four, operators, our intelligence suggests, but no more. The Tunny does not require translation into Morse code, making the sending and receiving of messages far less laborious.”

“And the exact location of the machine?”