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Halstead, who had returned the salute with half-heartedness, smiled and took the piece of paper from his lackey’s hand. “You can’t understand it because it’s most likely in code.” “Ah, yes that would explain—” “Silence.” The typist in a corner of the office stopped her clacking, and Halstead was allowed to concentrate on the slip of paper in his hand. Then he looked up and smiled broadly. “Things are going exactly as they should. Lüttwitz has met with Ebert and Noske, and this morning he headed to Döberitz.” “What does that mean?” Putzi asked. “It most likely means that Ebert and Noske rejected Lüttwitz’s demands, as any rational man would, and now he’s ordering Captain Ehrhardt to march on Berlin.” “And what does this mean for us?” Halstead stood up from his chair and ran his hands over his Ordnertruppe uniform in a smoothing motion. “It means it is time to initiate Operation Phoenix.” “Phoenix, mein Führer? I’m not familiar with Operation Phoenix.” Halstead’s smile turned to condescension once more. “That’s because it’s known only by those who need to know. Get Göring on the phone and tell him it’s time to initiate Operation Phoenix. Be certain to tell him that the operation begins at twenty-two hundred hours on the twelfth. Call Rudi as well and tell him the exact same thing.” “Yes, mein Führer.” |