About The Author: America's sudden entrance into World War II in 1941 became the critical impetus for the development of the first central intelligence agency in American history. Pdent Roosevelt appointed General William Donovan as its creator and under his skills, the Office of Strategic Services quickly covered the globe.But the demands of that cataclysmic conflict were also the force that thrust America's women into roles heretofore unaccepted in a society known as a "man's world."From America to Europe, "New Moon Rising, book III in the series "Company of Spies," continues to portray not only the daring missions of the men but also those of the women who served alongside them as O.S.S. operatives in that secret clandestine skullduggery world of espionage.Well known as a master storyteller, Dr. Margaret Emanuelson draws from her past experienAmerica's sudden entrance into World War II in 1941 became the critical impetus for the development of the first central intelligence agency in American history. Pdent Roosevelt appointed General William Donovan as its creator and under his skills, the Office of Strategic Services quickly covered the globe.But the demands of that cataclysmic conflict were also the force that thrust America's women into roles heretofore unaccepted in a society known as a "man's world."From America to Europe, "New Moon Rising, book III in the series "Company of Spies," continues to portray not only the daring missions of the men but also those of the women who served alongside them as O.S.S. operatives in that secret clandestine skullduggery world of espionage.Well known as a master storyteller, Dr. Margaret Emanuelson draws from her past experiences as a clinical, forensic psychologist and veteran of the O.S.S. to relate her tales of the audacious and heroic exploits of O.S.S. operatives, and weaves her characters in and out of each other's lives' in this fascinating, riveting, fast-moving story of espionage, political int
New Moon Rising
Book III: Company of SpiesBy Margaret S. EmanuelsonAuthorHouse
Copyright © 2011 Dr. Margaret S. Emanuelson
All right reserved.ISBN: 978-1-4520-8185-4 Chapter One
January 16, 1943 9:00 PM Bern, Switzerland
The flight over Switzerland encountered no problems, but by the time they approached the border of Belgium it became a different story. Flashes of antiaircraft fire surrounded them, some bursts coming close enough to cause the plane to quiver. Though he could not exceed the 10,000 foot oxygen safety level, the pilot gained altitude as quickly as possible and soon they were out of range.
Abby heaved a sigh of relief. Brett squeezed her hand. "Don't worry; I think we're out of it now—at least until we fly over the Channel."
"I hope you're right," Abby sighed. "It would be a shame to have escaped the Nazis this far and be shot down when we're almost back to home base."
"We'll make it, Abby. God will make a way." He turned to her and grinned.
Abby laughed. "I did say that, didn't I? Well, He has so far—too late to doubt Him now."
Outside the window, the dark clouds hovered as they flew on through the dark night; she could hear the sometimes heavy rain hammering in torrents upon the wings of the aircraft.
* * * January 17 1:30 AM BMT London
The plane landed with a gentle thud on the wet tarmac of the air station, and began its slowing roll to its final destination. "I wonder if word got through of our arrival," said Abby.
"Probably. I'm sure Alan Dulles has informed headquarters in London."
"I was thinking of Beatrice. Do you think she's been informed about Monty's death?"
"I should certainly think so by now," Brett said. "They're keeping it secret for now, but the Admiralty would have sent some of their own to inform her officially. He was quite an heroic figure in the British Navy, you know, and a duke at that."
"Of course, that's right. That would require the highest levels of protocol, wouldn't it? I hadn't thought of what an important figure he was."
"Yes, I've noticed that about you. People's importance to the world doesn't necessarily impress you, does it?"
"Not usually, but Monty was an exception. Do you suppose they've informed her that Biff is with us?"
"Well, we'll soon find out. The plane is coming to a full stop now."
The medics on the flight began to make preparations for debarking as the plane rolled to a full stop. Once the stairs were rolled up to the door of the plane, Abby felt a tug of anxiety.
What's coming next? she thought. And will we have the wisdom to know what to do with it?
Brett was first down the stairs to the tarmac, waiting to give her a hand down from the high bottom step. As Abby descended she looked out through the light rain.
A limousine, flags flying, was driving up and stopped several yards away, waiting for them. She saw a young naval officer open the door of the passengers' compartment. Sir Robert stepped out, followed by Cameron, and then she spied Beatrice coming toward her, accompanied by the young naval officer.
"Oh, my word," Abby said. "Even at this hour, they're all here to greet us."
Beatrice in all her regal elegance was dressed in the black of mourning.
She knows about Monty, Abby thought.
Instantly, her heart filled with sorrow for her. She took Brett's hand as he handed her down to the slippery pavement and quickly walked to meet Beatrice.
Without a word they embraced. They looked at one another for a long time. There was no need for words.
Finally, Abby shook her head, "I'm so sorry about Monty. What a tragedy for all of us, and for England as well."
"Yes, my dear Abby, Monty will be remembered long and well." She stared blankly for a few moments; "but now with Biff lost as well...." Tears began to fill her eyes.
Abby smiled, "Oh, Your Grace. I am so happy to bring you a wonderful surprise. Look...." She turned and pointed to the door of the plane. The medics, with Brett's and Wiley's help, were beginning to bring Biff's gurney down the stairs to the pavement.
Beatrice, confused, took one long look toward the plane; her mouth dropped open in utter amazement. She turned to Abby.
"Oh Abby, darling, you found him and brought him home. What a wonderful gift. I shall never forget this day." Suddenly the expression on her face changed from darkness to light. Her step became purposeful as she started in the direction of the medics.
"Wait, Your Grace," Abby cautioned. "Biff doesn't know about his father yet. Perhaps you shouldn't tell him right away."
"He hasn't been told?"
"No, Headquarters hasn't released the information to the public yet, and we felt that after all he had been through it was too much of a shock for him. But perhaps now that he is safely home, and can be settled in the hospital, he can be told."
"I see. Then I won't mention it until you've filled me in. Now, let me go to him, my dear."
"Of course, Your Grace. Tell him I will come to the hospital as soon as I can."
"Yes, my dear." Beatrice smiled and took off with a confident step. She had lost her husband but her only son had been returned to her.
Abby watched as Beatrice embraced her son. Her heart filled with joy for the both of them.
Another paradox, she thought; joy in the face of tragedy. Well, Dr. Warner said there would be days like this.
Turning to see Sir Robert and Cameron waiting for her, she walked quickly toward them.
"Abby, you really pulled it off!" Sir Robert said, with a hug. "I had no idea you were off on such a wild goose chase until after you left. I hear it was hazardous to say the least. You're a very fortunate girl that you were able to escape."
"Yes, darling," Cameron said, embracing her, "you were very fortunate; and you brought Ma Mere out of France to safety. Thank you, darling, we were so worried about her."
Abby began to laugh, "Well now, I'm not so sure who brought whom out. Cameron, your mother would make Sarah Bernhardt look like a novice. She played her part to a tee."
"Then we'll just see to it she gets an Academy Award," Sir Robert said, chuckling. "She was always a great actress."
"She's all of that! Now, you know I must say goodbye for awhile. I see our driver is here to take Brett and me off again."
"Yes darling, we know; we hope to see you soon," Cameron said, embracing her.
Sir Robert began softly in his rich baritone— "I'll see you again, don't know where, don't know when ..." and Abby joined in— "but I know we'll be together one fine day," and Abby walked away, waving at them, laughing on her way.
Chapter Two
January 17 2:00 AM London
Their driver delivered Wiley, John, Brett and Abby to the secluded back entrance of the Regency, where necessary accommodations had been set up for John and Wiley. After a word or two with the others, Abby and Brett were taken immediately to their rooms to settle in.
"At last," Abby said. "I never thought our 'safe house' would look so good."
"I know," Brett said. "No one could be happier than I to get you out of France."
"No one except me!" Abby laughed. "In fact, I'm downright euphoric!"
"Colonel Mathersby is here. He's waiting to greet us," Brett said, unlocking her door. "And the big brass will be debriefing us tomorrow."
"Good old Colonel Mathersby! You know, I've actually missed him," she chuckled. "Will General Donovan be here tomorrow?"
"I'm not sure. The only word I got was the big brass would be here."
"I wonder what's up. It must be something important."
"I think you're right. Anyway, we'll see. Colonel Mathersby is waiting for us, so freshen up and I'll meet you in the conference room."
"What time is it?" she asked, yawning.
"2:35 am, my pet; 3:35 in Bern."
"Ye gods! When do we sleep?"
Brett laughed, "Sleep? Never heard of it!"
"Okay, you old meany, I won't be long." She heard him laughing as he closed her door.
Ten minutes later found Abby entering the conference room. Colonel Mathersby met her at the door, beaming with pride.
"Congratulations, my dear. You have accomplished a splendid undertaking. Headquarters is very pleased and so are the rest of us. Now, come have some coffee and grab a sandwich before you retire. I know you must be exhausted. So I will let you two go for tonight."
"Thank you, Colonel Mathersby. I'm sure I could never have done it without the help of many others. But I must tell you, I'm certainly glad to get my feet on English soil again."
"You've had a very harrowing experience, my dear. I think you should grab a bite and get to bed immediately."
"That's very thoughtful of you, Colonel; actually, I've had no sleep for three days."
"Yes, well, tomorrow several of the people from headquarters will be here and we will get a complete debriefing then. I will leave you now. Take care of her, Brett."
"You bet, Colonel. Come on Abby, eat up. I'm as exhausted as you."
"I'm ready," said Abby, grabbing several sandwiches and a pot of coffee.
"Do you intend to drink that coffee out of the pot?" asked Brett, amused.
"Never mind, I have a cup in my room. 'Always be prepared,' you know."
"Okay, I'll take the other pot. I've already had enough of the sandwiches. Are you ready, my sweet?"
"Ready, as you go," she gave him a playful look.
"Very well, mademoiselle, we're off to the races again."
* * *
January 17 9:00 AM
Abby walked in to find Wiley and John, as they sat around the conference table, finishing their debriefing and having breakfast with Colonel Mathersby and Brett. They rose to greet her as she walked in.
"Hear, hear!" was their cry, accompanied by vigorous applause.
"Goodness, you boys, you were part of it, too."
"Don't be so modest. You were the leader," John said. "We know what you did."
"Thanks, John, but I know what you did, too. And if it hadn't been for you, Wiley, Biff would have died in that forest."
Wiley smiled, "To tell the truth, we were both almost gone. If it hadn't been for those Jedburghs who got us flown out, neither of us would be here."
"The Lord found a way, didn't He?" Abby said, giving Brett a look.
Brett, grinning, handed her a cup of coffee with one hand and pulled out her chair at the table with the other.
Immediately, before she could sit down, Colonel Mathersby came to her and took both of her hands in his. He was glowing. "My dear, we are so proud of you. Allen Dulles has just filled me in. Mission Firefly is now a complete success."
"Yes, Abby," said Wiley, "tell us about it. Bifford and I weren't there, you know. Our mission was 'Flytrap.' We were stranded on the beach in Normandy."
"Yes, my boy," said Colonel Mathersby, "we'll make sure you two can compare notes later, but for now we need to pay attention to the present."
"Yes, sir, Colonel," said Wiley.
"Very good, my boy," said Colonel Mathersby.
"Wiley, you and John will be debriefed first today at 11:00. The car will pick you up to take you there. An armed guard will take you downstairs to the back entrance and accompany you to your destination."
"Who will be there, sir?" Wiley asked.
"You will be informed, my boy, once you're there."
"Abby, you and Brett will be picked up at 1:15 for your debriefing. Apparently there is some reason the brass are doing this in sequence."
"I'm glad you explained, Colonel. I was wondering why they don't want to see us all together." Brett pushed back from the table and looked at Abby.
"Oh, you know how they are, Brett. They probably have some ulterior motive," Abby said, stretching.
"That's what I'm afraid of," Brett wrinkled his forehead.
Colonel Mathersby rose from the table. "Obviously, Bifford will have to be debriefed in the hospital, whenever he is able. Very well then, you people have your instructions. I will accompany Wiley and John. Remember, we must be on time, so I will dismiss you now. Carry on!"
The group dispersed to carry out their projected assignments.
Brett grabbed Abby's hand. "Come on, Abby, we can get a bite of lunch before they pick us up."
"Okay. Your room or mine?" she asked.
"Maybe your room this time. You can finish unpacking, while we're waiting for the waiter."
"Good idea. Let's go."
Brett unlocked her door and picked up the phone to order lunch. "Mademoiselle, will you have rhinoceros or hippopotamus for lunch today?"
"Oh, Brett, you rascal, a shrimp salad will do."
"My pleasure, Your Grace."
"Okay, you can just knock that off, right now!"
"Yes, ma'am," he grinned. "Shrimp salad it is."
Beginning to take things out of her luggage, Abby said, "You know, I have a very strange feeling that something is wrong."
"Yeah, me too," he frowned. "I have the same feeling; what do you think is up?"
"I don't know, but I have a thousand questions. For instance, what ever happened to Trevor? Did he defect to Russia or is he on a special assignment? And what are we going to do about Suzanne? Did they track down her papers?"
"I'd have to agree," Brett said. "There are too many loose ends flying in the breeze about too many people. Maybe we'll have an opportunity to ask the big brass."
"I doubt it," Abby sighed. "All they want to do is interrogate us, as though we didn't need to know anything else. It's infuriating."
Brett chuckled as he went to the door. The waiter quickly delivered their food and left.
"Now, now, 'need to know', my pet."
"Need to know, my foot! And I'm not your pet!"
"Okay, Abby. Sorry, I guess I hit a nerve."
"I'm just tired, Brett. I guess I'm not up to playing games today."
"I know, my pet. The past two or three weeks have been absolutely exhausting. But more so for you—with all the stress you were under and no sleep at all. So, why don't you eat up and take a little nap before we go. I'll wake you up in time." He picked up his plate and opened the door. "See you later."
"Thanks, Brett," she said, stretching, "you're a dear."
Chapter Three
January 17 1:15 PM
Accompanied by an armed guard, their driver picked them up at the Regency promptly at 1:15. Forty minutes later, Abby recognized the gates of the beautiful old estate grounds as they stopped for the guard to check their credentials. As they drove down the long driveway, Abby turned to Brett. "I know this place," she said. "We've been here before."
"Yes, it's good of the old gentry to offer their homes for such clandestine operations. But then, the British are very generous when it comes to protecting their own country."
"Noblesse oblige? Still, it's very gracious of them. I'm not so sure I'd like to have a lot of curious military intelligence jerks inspecting my fine paintings and other valuables."
"I'm inclined to agree with you," said Brett, "but most of the people who come here are in the same class as the owners. They know the value of precious possessions."
"Just the same, one's home is one's castle. I'd say they're making a major sacrifice."
"Hardly more than we!" he frowned.
"Touché. You have a point," she grinned.
"I see we've arrived," Brett said as the guard opened the door and stood, saluting. Brett, in full uniform, got out of the car and returned his salute. He bent down and spoke to Abby. "Come on, Abby, girl, I'll help you out."
When they reached the front entrance, the armed guard checked their credentials and waved them on. "Second floor library, sir," he said, saluting and pointing to the stairs.
"Here we go." Brett took her arm.
"Down the yellow brick road again! I wonder where it's going to lead this time." She looked up at him.
He smiled. "Round and round it goes, and where it stops, nobody knows."
"I think it stops at the nut house," Abby said, laughing. "These Orientals are softer than my bed at the hotel. We could take a little nap," she said, as they climbed the long staircase.
"It's tempting, all right," Brett yawned, "but I don't think it would fly."
Another armed guard stood at the heavily carved doors of the library. One side was open.
"They're ready for you, sir, ma'am," the guard said, saluting.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from New Moon Risingby Margaret S. Emanuelson Copyright © 2011 by Dr. Margaret S. Emanuelson. Excerpted by permission of AuthorHouse. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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