But Lockhart also felt nervous because of what he had to do. He had to face the friend, dressed as he was as the enemy, and persuade the friend to join him in wearing this vile costume. Surely it was impossible? But then maybe there were more opportunist Hulls, and maybe there were a few more Pughs who had kept their fascism tucked away under straw mattresses. Perhaps the latest recruiting leaflet, this one written by Pugh, might encourage them to come forward to declare themselves.

As a result of repeated applications from British subjects from all parts of the world wishing to take part in the common European struggle against Bolshevism, authorization has recently been given for the creation of a British volunteer unit.

The BRITISH FREE CORPS publishes herewith the following short statement of the aims and principles of the unit.

1) The British Free Corps is a thoroughly British volunteer unit conceived and created by British subjects from all parts of the Empire who have taken up arms and pledged their lives in the common European struggle against Soviet Russia.

2) The British Free Corps condemns the war with Germany and the sacrifice of British blood in the interests of Jewry and international Finance and regards this conflict as a fundamental betrayal of the British People and British imperial interests.

3) The British Free Corps desires the establishment of peace in Europe, the development of close friendly relations between England and Germany, and the encouragement of mutual understanding and collaboration between the two great Germanic peoples.

4) The British Free Corps will neither make war against Britain or the British Crown, nor support any action or policy detrimental to the interests of the British people.

Published by the British Free Corps

Lockhart scrunched the leaflet up and threw it onto the floor of his grubby hotel room. It was the last night before they were due to leave, and he was lying on a stinking bed, still in his uniform, staring at the exposed masonry at the top of the wall.

His mind was churning with his priorities, priorities that conflicted, priorities that shifted. First, he had to find a trustworthy NCO, someone who could pass on the letter. That was essential—London had to know about the sarin, if Nicolas was telling the truth. And in the meantime, he had to find out more about the gas. What would it be stored in? How could it be destroyed, if at all? He needed help, needed to find an expert, but who? And where would he find him? Perhaps London could help, but he couldn’t assume any assistance from that direction.

Secondly, he had to go through the motions of recruiting traitors to serve in the unit—a prospect that revolted him, but something that had to be done if he was to stay alive. The deeper he became involved in the recruitment drive, the more London would get to hear, via POWs’ letters back home, of his treachery. And if London thought he was a traitor, then they wouldn’t believe his message about the sarin.