“What is it exactly you want me to do?” asked Lockhart.

“Please do not be so impatient,” replied Hillen-Ziegfeld. “I am coming to that. So far, we have managed to recruit some of your fellow countrymen to make broadcasts, warning the British people of the dangers of Communism.”

“Lord Haw-Haw and those others? But they’re just a load of traitors.”

“I would suggest to you that they are not. They are merely doing their duty as good Europeans and lovers of freedom. But some of your fellow countrymen have chosen to go one step further and have actually chosen to fight the Russians.”

It wasn’t usual for Lockhart to be rendered speechless, but this news, if true, knocked the wind out of him. Before he could collect his thoughts, Hillen-Ziegfeld continued.

“You look surprised, Captain Lockhart. You have heard of a man called John Amery?”

“Yes, I have. He’s another one of your broadcasters, isn’t he? Not only that, he’s the son of a cabinet minister.”

“That’s right—Leopold Amery, the secretary of state for India. I find it interesting that a man like John Amery, from such good stock, should be active in wanting to fight the Russians, don’t you?”

“Every family has its rotten apple.”

“I hardly think John Amery is a rotten apple. He is a brave man.”

Lockhart snorted again.

“Why do you keep laughing, Lockhart? Do you not see it as bravery when a man chooses to go against his entire nation because of the strength of his beliefs?”

“I think he’s a coward. He only joined you because the war was going your way.”

“He’s not an opportunist, Lockhart. He genuinely believes that the Soviets are evil, and is ashamed by his—and your—country’s alliance with them. I’m sure time will prove him right.”

“I’m not saying that Stalin is the ideal bedfellow, but we need him—and he needs us—if we are to beat you.”

“Such naivete, Lockhart! Can’t you see that in the unlikely event he does beat us, he will turn on you next? Europe will turn red, not only with Communism, but with blood.”

Strasser interrupted. “I do not think this ideological conversation is going anywhere. If Captain Lockhart does not wish to help, then he knows the consequences. I see little point in trying to persuade him when he is already predisposed to working with us.”

Strasser too spoke with a slight American accent, although it sounded more Ivy League than Lange’s. There was no doubting his natural authority, which had stopped the aerated Hillen-Ziegfeld dead in his tracks.

Hillen-Ziegfeld looked flustered.

“You were talking about John Amery,” said Strasser.

“Oh yes!” said Hillen-Ziegfeld. “John Amery. Well, Lockhart, even if you do not approve of his views, you will soon find yourself working to promote a scheme of his, a project that is beginning to gather a great number of followers—brave fighting men like yourself.”

Lockhart raised his eyebrows.

“Really?”