Ursula Neuhoff was a fine looking woman, no question about it, and she was an excellent agent as well. Otto was looking forward to seeing her again. He had plans for the evening. Ursula had been placed in the Chicago area five years earlier, in '38, back around the time of the Sudeten crisis in what had been Czechoslovakia for 2 short decades, but was now part of the greater Reich. It was most satisfying seeing these bastardized little nations that should never have come into existence at all being amalgamated into Europe's greatest nation, thought Otto, and it hadn't been done a moment too soon. Without an iron man like the Fuhrer at the helm, it would certainly never have happened at all. Otto had tremendous confidence in Adolf Hitler. He was unquestionably the greatest man of the century, perhaps of all time. "When this war is over," thought Otto, "those who fought hardest to realize the Furher's dream will be the ones most highly rewarded...and I shall be one of them."

He knocked on Ursula's apartment door. No answer. Where was she? He had been most explicit about the time, and he expected nothing less than absolute punctuality from his agents. He knocked again, louder.

"Who is it?" came her voice, faintly. It sounded like she must be in the washroom. Probably seeing to her makeup. They're all the same, he thought.

"It's Kris Kringle, who do you think," he snapped irritably. "Open the door."

There was a brief pause. Then he heard the door click, and she opened it. "Good evening, Mr Kringle," she said airily. "Don't you usually come by the chimney? This is America, you know, and appearances must be kept up. Besides, you're over a month early, I believe."

Otto glared at her. He was unamused. "Well, come in, then," she said evenly, in an I-don't-really-give-a-damn sort of way, and she walked over to the cabinet and started mixing herself a drink. "I suppose you want one too?" she asked.

"Yes, I'll have one of course," said Otto, attempting to match her studied indifference. Clearly she was not in an amiable mood tonight. That was damned inconvenient.

He studied Ursula carefully through narrowed eyes that burned with a pale inner light...not an obvious light, but a dangerous one. The woman was gorgeous, long-legged and poised, ash blond, a real "looker" as the Yanks said, and she knew it all too well. She was as hard as a yankee silver dollar and had probably been touched by about as many hands in her time, he suspected...but discreetly, of course. Ursula was a clever little courtesan who knew exactly what she was doing at all times. If it was good for Ursula, it got done. If not, too bad.

"I'll take a double," he said.

"Ah!" she giggled. "You're learning more and more of the American tough guy expressions from the movies. That's good! People might even get the idea you are a tough guy..."

"People already have that idea, Ursula," he said in a silky voice, "and they are right. Don't ever doubt it."

"Oh, I don't doubt it at all, Otto...not in the least." She walked over and handed him his drink just as calmly as if she were arranging some flowers on a Sunday afternoon. "So, what is the news on the great "monkey" operation?"

Otto took the drink and looked at it carefully, as an archaeologist might study an ancient shard. This was how they did it in the gangster movies. He was deliberately stretching out the suspense. He sipped it thoughtfully. Not bad. She would make a good cocktail waitress in a fancy bar.

"It was a semi-success," he said at last. "We got a number of valuable items, but not as much as I had hoped for. By the way, they weren't all monkeys...we used some apes too. Small chimpanzees. They are surprisingly clever for such primitive creatures."

Ursula snorted. "They're filthy, disgusting things. This city is absolutely infested with the wretched creatures, everywhere you go. I detest them."

"So do I, Ursula, so do I, but they have proven useful. When one is in a battle for survival one uses whatever must be used. Once the battle is won, then one disposes of the trash. You will not see these creatures around in the New Order, except perhaps in a zoo somewhere. I promise you that."

"It can't happen too soon. Still, you say they did well?"

"Quite well. But we won't be able to use them again. The Amis are onto us, and that hole has been sealed. As for those particular monkeys...and apes...well, they won't be of any use to anyone again."

"You had them eliminated?" she asked, leaning forward with a quickening interest.

"I more or less had to," he replied. "They were exposed to very toxic materials, and were dangerous to even be around. They would not have lived long in any case. It was...unpleasant."

Ursula extracted a cigarette from a gold case. "I didn't think you found killing unpleasant, Otto. You surprise me."

"I don't, Ursula. I rather enjoy it." (Otto relished delivering lines of that sort, and he watched carefully to see if it had the desired effect on her.) "I especially enjoy it when eliminating enemies of society...but these were just tools that had served their time. Nothing more. At any rate, that gambit is used up. We are going to have to find another means of either robbing them or destroying the project outright. Blow it sky high if necessary. We have to cut the head off this snake before it becomes venomous, and I have some good ideas how. I intend to tell you all about it over dinner in some quiet place. Your pick. You know the clubs better than I do."

She thought that over. "Alberto's then," she said. "They have excellent Italian food and booths that are quite private. Excuse me for a moment while I change into a better gown."

He got up and followed her in the direction of the bedroom, placing a hand on her shoulder..."Perhaps I can help you."

She stopped, looked at him cooly, took the hand in her own and removed it from her shoulder quite deliberately. "It's way too early in the evening for that, I think." She stepped into the bedroom and closed the door with an audible click and snick of the lock.

"Hell and damnation," muttered Otto under his breath. He wandered back over to the couch, nursed his drink and his general level of frustration, and gazed out the window at the lights of Chicago. What a city! It was big, brawling, dirty, vulgar, and full of energy, even with the war rationing in effect. American servicemen could be seen everywhere. The country was in a ferment ever since the Pearl Harbour raid, and they had apparently won a huge victory in the central Pacific back in the summer at some obscure little island called Midway. Bad news for the Japanese, who had stared out so well in the beginning. One could only hope that Japan would hold the line now...make them fight for every inch and every island, and keep them fully occupied while Germany dealt with Russia. It was becoming a desperate business...a bigger war than anyone had anticipated in '39 or '40. It was not clear to Otto why the Fuhrer had declared war on the USA after Pearl Harbour, but there must have been the most pressing reasons for doing so. One couldn't expect to know everything that was happening behind the scenes. Probably the Americans had intended a surprise attack of their own on Europe. They had already been clandestinely helping the British fight the U-boats in a totally illegal fashion! Yes, Hitler had simply decided to bring things plainly out into the light of day. It was worrisome, though. The USA had tremendous strength in men and machines and it was growing daily by leaps and bounds. The genii was truly out of the bottle. A number of his reports on American production figures had simply been rejected outright by Berlin. Some idiot in an office there couldn't fathom the straight facts he was feeding them, and at the risk of his own life. It was infuriating! If only he could go to Berlin and talk to Hitler himself, face to face...then something would be done.

"I'm ready." He turned. Ursula was wearing a simply stunning burgundy gown, low-cut, pearls at her throat. Marvelous. She was right, it had been too early in the evening. His mistake. He'd been cooped up too long.

"Excuse me for my impetuosity, Ursula," he said, bowing slightly. "I don't know what I was thinking. Too many long hours in the office waiting for information to come in, I suppose, and not enough down time."

"I accept your apology, Otto," she said lightly. "Let's go and have a simply delicious meal, and some champagne, and you can tell me all about exactly how we are going to blow Mr Enrico Fermi and his crew of expatriate saboteurs off the face of the planet."

"Amen to that," he agreed, offering his arm. "To the devil with them all." She took it, and they went out to the street to hail a cab.

- LH