Into the Iron Shadows (Shadows of War Book 5) Read online

  Into the Iron Shadows

  CW Browning

  About Into the Iron Shadows

  When Panzers rip through the Ardennes, more than France is at stake.

  On the heels of escaping Belgium, Evelyn Ainsworth is facing yet another invasion. The Wehrmacht is advancing faster than anyone expected, and all she wants is to reach England before the Nazis take Paris. With smuggled documents in her possession, and a fellow evacuee who carries secrets of his own, she must escape once again before France falls.

  German bombers are wreaking havoc on Allied troops trying to reach the coast, and RAF Flying Officer Miles Lacey is frustrated. Despite flying daily patrols, his squadron has yet to engage the enemy. He’s itching to get in the fight, but nothing can prepare him for what’s coming.

  As Panzers race to the Channel and the Luftwaffe dominates the skies, a storm of evil sweeps across the continent. Amidst the chaos and destruction, only the strongest will withstand the darkest storm.

  And march into iron shadows.

  Author’s Note:

  On May 15, 1940, just five days after Hitler’s forces invaded Holland, Belgium, and Luxembourg, the Battle of Sedan, in France, ended. The German army was across the Meuse and into France, with a clear, virtually unopposed path to Paris. General Gamelin, the man in charge of the French forces and, therefore, the defense of France itself, had said that the Germans couldn’t possibly reach Sedan before the 19th. They reached it on the 12th, and Sedan fell just three days later. The people in Paris began to evacuate, fleeing the capital. Surely the Germans would go straight to Paris. Yet they did not. They turned west to begin a race to the Channel, determined to cut the Allied forces in half and trap the bulk of the divisions in Belgium and northern France.

  While the roads south from Paris grew increasingly crowded with refugees, slowing down Allied reinforcements on their way north, German Panzer divisions tore across France to the coast. Blitzkrieg raged, stunning France, and the world. By May 20th, the German army had reached the northern coast of France. With the British Expeditionary Force trapped in Belgium and northern France, England’s entire trained army was at risk of being captured…or worse.

  France was in chaos, and with it, so were her people. The German Blitzkrieg had triumphed, exceeding even the German High Command’s own expectations. While there were many French divisions that fought heroically until the end, the battle had already been lost the moment the German Panzers entered the “impenetrable” Ardennes. France would fall.

  And England would be the last to stand against the power and might of Nazi Germany.

  Table of Contents

  Into the Iron Shadows

  Author’s Note:

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Epilogue

  Author’s Notes

  About the Author

  Note from Author:

  “It is not mere territorial conquest the enemy is seeking. It is the overthrow, complete and final, of the Empire and of everything for which it stands, and after that the conquest of the world.”

  ~ King George VI, May 24, 1940 Empire Day Speech

  Prologue

  Berlin, Germany

  Obersturmbannführer Hans Voss stood in the corridor with his hat under his arm, his eyes fixed pensively on the portrait of the Führer that hung on the wall opposite. He had been called back to Berlin from France abruptly, and he was fully aware of the reason for the summons. His lips tightened and his eyes narrowed as a wave of displeasure went through him.

  He had failed.

  Without warning, a door opened a few feet away and a short man in uniform came into the corridor, nodding to Voss.

  “Standartenführer Dreschler is ready, Obersturmbannführer Voss,” he announced soberly.

  Hans turned and followed him through the door and into an outer room with two desks. A young woman was seated behind one, typing away, her eyes on the notes beside the machine. She didn’t look up as they entered, keeping her attention on her work as the two men strode through the small room towards the office door a few feet away. A moment later, Hans was being ushered into the large, uncluttered office of his superior officer.

  “Heil Hitler!”

  He saluted smartly as Standartenführer Dreschler turned from a filing cabinet, a folder in his hand.

  “Heil Hitler.”

  The older man walked over to his desk as the door closed softly, leaving the two men alone. Hans stood to attention before the large, heavy wood desk, his eyes fixed on the wall behind it. Standartenführer Dreschler sat in his chair and studied him in silence for a moment. Finally, after a long, heavy pause, he waved a hand.

  “Sit down, Voss,” he said tiredly. “I didn’t call you back to discipline you, although you certainly deserve it.”

  Hans looked at him, startled, but recovered quickly. “Thank you, Standartenführer,” he murmured, seating himself in one of the two chairs placed before the desk.

  “I read your report this morning before you arrived in Berlin. Would you care to tell me in your own words what the hell went wrong? It seemed simple enough. The courier was in Belgium and you were in pursuit, were you not?”

  “Yes, Standartenführer.”

  “Then why are you not presenting me with the packet of confidential and classified plans that were stolen in Stuttgart?”

  “In all honesty, Standartenführer, because the Führer chose that precise moment to invade Belgium,” Hans replied bluntly.

  Dreschler sat back in his chair. “You’re blaming the Führer and the advance of our troops for your failure?”

  “No. I’m blaming the timing of the advance. If I had one extra day, just one, I would have not only the plans, but the courier as well. However, as it stands, the courier had fled Brussels before I even arrived. I followed, but never caught up. Not really.”

  “Yet your report says that you did.” Dreschler sat forward and flipped open the folder on his desk, scanning the pages inside. “In Marle,” he added after a moment.

  “The report states that I believe I caught up with the courier in Marle, but I have no definite proof that it was the same courier. I did make that clear, I thought, in my summation.”

  The hint of a smile crossed Dreschler’s face before being sternly repressed. “So you did. How careless of me to have overlooked it.”

  “I don’t believe it was carelessness, Standartenführer.”

  “You’re correct. I’ve spoken to Mueller in the Abwehr in Hamburg. He assures me that Eisenjager made every attempt to assist you. They, at least, believe it was the courier in Marle. Why don’t you?”

  “Without having
been able to detain and question her, I cannot say that it was definitely the same woman who took the packet from the Dutch agent in Antwerp. I think it was, but I won’t swear to it.”

  Dreschler studied him for a long time in silence, then sighed. “I’ve known you long enough to trust your judgement, but I also know that you pride yourself on providing proof. What about the man?”

  “He was a Belgian that Eisenjager was looking for,” Hans said with a shrug. “He was of no interest to me.”

  “And now they are both gone.” Dreschler glanced down at the open folder before him. “At least the famous Eisenjager failed as well, eh? It would appear the whole operation was doomed from the start.”

  Hans was silent, not trusting himself to comment. The anger he felt towards the Abwehr assassin was still very sharp. When he’d embarked on his trek through Belgium and into France, hoping to retrieve a packet of stolen plans containing blueprints of the new underground bunkers at the munitions plants in Stuttgart, he had realized the odds of getting them back were reduced drastically with each passing mile. Yet he had almost succeeded; would have succeeded if it weren’t for the presence of Eisenjager in Marle. If the assassin hadn’t spooked the couple as they left the house, Hans would not only have got the packet back but would also have finally caught the elusive British agent known as Jian. Operation Nightshade would have been a success without him even trying! He had recognized the courier as the British agent as soon as he saw her, but that information had not been included in his report. Dreschler could never know that Jian had slipped through their fingers yet again.

  “As I’m sure you’re aware, the offensive into France is going well,” Dreschler said, pulling Voss’ attention back to the present. “The Generals expect to be in Paris within the month.”

  “Yes, I’ve heard.”

  “When that happens, I’m assigning you to Paris, Obersturmbannführer Voss.”

  Hans stared at him. “Standartenführer?”

  Dreschler looked up with a grin. “There’s no need to look so surprised, Voss. This latest setback notwithstanding, you are my best officer. You have done well in the past year, and I’d already made the decision to reward you. That decision stands. Once we are in control of Paris, you will be in charge of our operations there. It will be an extended posting, so I suggest that you use the next few weeks to make any arrangements here that will need to be made. You will be assigned quarters once you arrive. I trust you have no objections?”

  “No, Standartenführer!” Hans exclaimed. “I thank you!”

  “Good.” Dreschler picked up a pen and unscrewed the top, preparing to sign the order on the desk. “As I said, this current loss notwithstanding, I need someone I can rely upon in Paris. You will be expected to identify and apprehend all Allied agents in the area, as well as all other enemies of the Reich.” He glanced up suddenly, his gaze sharp. “Of course, I will expect no more incidents like Marle.”

  “Of course, Standartenführer.”

  “Good.” He signed his name and replaced the cap on the pen, standing up. “Congratulations, Obersturmbannführer Voss. Paris is a coveted assignment, and you’ve earned the right to enjoy it. Perhaps it will also help get you closer to your elusive British agent.”

  Hans stood and clicked his heels together, bowing slightly. “Thank you for the opportunity to try, Standartenführer.”

  Chapter One

  Paris, France

  May 14, 1940

  Evelyn Ainsworth sipped her coffee and gazed out over the early morning streets of Paris. Despite the uneasiness pervading the city, business continued as usual, and Parisians hurried along the pavement below on their morning errands. The sun shone brightly over the busy Rue de Grenelle, doing its part to add to the illusion that everything would be fine. Life would continue as normal until it no longer could, and then the citizens of Paris would adapt and readjust. It was how it had always been and, God-willing, was how it always would be.

  Raising her eyes, Evelyn turned her attention to the horizon just visible between two buildings opposite. Beyond them flowed the Seine, and across the river lay the 8th Arrondissement where her uncle’s Paris house was located. Were they still there? Or had Tante Adele and Uncle Claude taken their household to the château in the south where they would be assured some degree of safety for the time being? There was no way for Evelyn to know, and she daren’t risk going to the house. They had no idea she was in Paris, nor could they, ever. As far as her family was concerned, she was safely tucked away on RAF Northolt, just outside of London.

  “Marie! You’ve had a message back from London.”

  Evelyn turned to watch as a man with curly red hair came into the spacious sitting room, a piece of paper in his hand.

  “It just came through,” he continued, holding out the paper. “I hope it’s good news.”

  Evelyn moved forward and took the paper. Jens Bernard only knew her by one name: Marie Fournier. When she had met him in Brussels a scant week earlier, it was the name she had been using, and she saw no reason to correct it now.

  “Thank you.”

  Jens nodded and went over to the wireless, switching it on while she sat down at a small writing table near the window.

  “I’m going to see if there is any news yet from the border,” he said, tuning the dial. He glanced over at her. “This won’t disturb you?”

  “Not at all.”

  Evelyn turned her attention to the coded message in her hand. They had arrived in Paris early yesterday morning after fleeing Marle ahead of two German agents, and yesterday evening, Jens had relayed a message to her handler in London with his radio. The response last night had been for her to await further instructions, but she hadn’t expected those instructions to come quite so quickly.

  Picking up a pencil, she set about decoding the message, her brow furrowed in concentration. She hadn’t mentioned the possibility of bringing a Belgian radio operator back with her in her message, but if these instructions were for her to go home, she would have to give Bill fair warning. While she was anxious to get back to England, Evelyn was also equally as anxious not to leave Jens to his fate in a city that was strange to him. If it transpired that it was impossible for Jens to accompany her back to England, then she would be staying in France for the time being. Jens had helped her escape Belgium ahead of the full might of the German army. She wasn’t about to abandon him now.

  Pausing in her decoding, Evelyn looked up and stared out of the window, her brows creasing as a wave of anxiety washed over her. If she remained in Paris and the German army pushed further into France, she would have to find somewhere for her and Jens to go. They were safe in this apartment for the moment, but any day now Jean-Pierre, or Marcel, as Jens knew him, would arrive, and they couldn’t expect to stay here then. They could go to a hotel, but if things got really bad and they had to leave Paris, then what?

  Shaking her head, she turned her attention back to the message. There was absolutely no point in getting ahead of herself. She and Jens might be in England in a couple of days, and then she would have wasted time and energy worrying over nothing.

  A few moments later she finished decoding the message and sat back, staring down at it in consternation.

  RENDEZVOUS IN MORNING AT AIRFIELD OUTSIDE PARIS - EIGHT O’CLOCK. PLANE WILL TAKE YOU TO BERN. TELEGRAPH ONCE ERRAND COMPLETED TO ARRANGE FOR RETURN. MUST HURRY. CANNOT GUARANTEE RETURN FLIGHT DUE TO CURRENT EVENTS. ACKNOWLEDGE RECEIPT.

  Bill was sending a plane to take her to Switzerland? Evelyn pinched the bridge of her nose, exhaling. She had asked him to arrange for her to go when she returned to England, but she was surprised that he was sending her now. She would have thought that the rapid advance of the German army, along with the smuggled packet of blueprints in the lining of her coat, would have taken priority over the clue her father had left in a Chinese puzzle box.

  “I can’t find anything new from Belgium,” Jens said disgustedly, drawing her attention as he switched off the radio i
mpatiently. “It’s all what we heard last night.”

  “Perhaps that’s a good thing,” she said, turning to look at him sympathetically.

  “Do you really believe that?” he countered, meeting her gaze squarely.

  Evelyn held his gaze for a moment, then sighed and shook her head. “No.”

  “Nor do I.” He ran a hand through his curly hair and took an impatient turn around the room. “I simply want to know if my parents are safe. The rest, well, what will happen will happen.”

  “Where are they?”

  “They are in Linter, between Liège and Brussels.” Jens sighed and dropped onto the sofa, shaking his head. “I suppose it will be weeks before I can get word to them. I did send them a message when we left Brussels, so at least they know I am safe for now.”

  “Try not to worry. I know it’s hard, but it really won’t do any good, you know.”

  He nodded and looked up. “And you? Is the message good news?”

  Evelyn glanced at the paper on the desk. “Yes, and no. I’m to go to Calais, and then on to England,” she lied.

  “That’s good, no?”

  “Not if I can’t bring you with me. I don’t want to leave you here alone.”

  “Have you asked them?”

  “Not yet.” She looked at him with a small smile. “I will. I have to send a reply and I’ll see what can be done.”

  Before Jens could respond, the sound of a key in the lock at the door made them both stand up quickly. Evelyn slid the paper on the desk towards her, picking it up and folding it quickly so the message couldn’t be seen, her heart in her throat.

  “Who’s there?” Jens called, starting towards the door.

  “No need to be alarmed,” a male voice said as the door opened. “It’s only me.”

  A tall, slender man with light brown hair and gray eyes stepped into the apartment. He carried a suitcase in one hand and had a newspaper rolled up under his arm. Evelyn exhaled in relief upon seeing him, her face breaking out into a welcoming smile.