Chapter 17 Chapter Sixteen

Wartime austerity didn't change Soho appreciably, and in this red-light district in the heart of London's West End, the same crowd of young men wandered the streets drinking beer, although most of them wore uniform.The same girls roamed the sidewalks, heavily made up and in tight dresses, scouting for potential customers.Lighted signs outside clubs and bars have been switched off due to blackout, but all places are still open. Mark and Flick arrive at the Cross nightclub at ten o'clock in the evening.The nightclub manager, a young man in a tuxedo and red tie, greets Mark like an old friend.Flick was in high spirits, and Mark knew a female telephone mechanic whom Flick was about to meet, which made her optimistic.Mark only said her name was Greta, like the movie star Greta Garbo, and said nothing else.When Flick asked further, Mark said, "You can see it yourself."

When Mark paid the entrance fee and greeted the manager, Flick noticed that he seemed to be a different person.He became more outgoing, with a lilting voice and exaggerated gestures.Flick felt that his brother was playing another role, which he kept hidden at ordinary times and changed his appearance at night. They descended a flight of stairs into the basement, which was dimly lit and smoky.Flick saw a five-piece band on a low stage, a small dance floor, a few scattered tables, and a few booths around the room.She suspected that this was a so-called "men's nightclub" for guys like Mark who "didn't marry and start a family".Although most of the guests were men, there were a few girls among them, some of whom were very attractively dressed.

A waiter said, "Hello, Mark's nickname..." and put his hand on Mark's shoulder, but sent a hostile glance in Flick's direction. "Robbie, this is my sister," Mark said. "Her name is Felicity, but we've always called her Flick." The waiter's demeanor changed immediately, and he gave Flick a friendly smile and said, "Nice to meet you." He ushered them to a table. Flick guessed that Robbie had suspected that she was Mark's girlfriend just now and turned Mark's direction, so he became malicious towards her, but then he knew that she was just Mark's sister, so he treated her better.

Mark smiled and asked Robbie, "How is Kit?" "It's all right, I think," said Robbie, barely concealing his sullen look. "You got into a fight, didn't you?" Mark was charming, even flirtatious, a side of himself that Flick had never seen him show.In fact, she felt that this might be the real Mark.That other role, the ego he plays discreetly during the day, may be a cover. "When are we going to stop fighting?" said Robbie. "He won't appreciate you," Mark said with exaggerated melancholy, touching Robbie's hand. "You're right, bless you. Have something to drink?"

Flick ordered a scotch, Mark a martini. Flick didn't know their kind well.She had also met Mark's friend Steve, had been to the apartment they shared, but she hadn't met their friends.As curious as she was about their world, it seemed indecent to ask any questions. She didn't even know how these people called themselves.The ones she knew were more or less offensive: stirrer, gay, goblin, and so on. "Mark," said Flick, "what do you call a man who likes men?" He grinned and said, "We call it 'The Musical,' honey," he said, waving his hand effeminately.

Flick thought, I've got to remember this.Now she can say to Mark: "Is he 'The Musical'?" She has their first code word. A tall blonde in a red skirt swaggered onto the stage to applause. "This is Greta," Mark said, "who works as a telephone mechanic during the day." Greta sang "Nobody Remembers You When You're Down and Out".Her voice was rich and melancholy, but Flick recognized immediately that she had a German accent. She yelled into Mark's ear, over the blare of the band: "I thought you said she was French." "She can speak French," he corrected, "but she's German."

Flick was suddenly disappointed.No, Greta must have a German accent when she speaks French. The audience liked Greta very much, and they gave enthusiastic applause to every song. When she shook her hips and legs to the music, she even cheered and whistled.But Flick couldn't relax and enjoy it.She was very anxious.She still hadn't found her phone mechanic, and had wasted the better part of the evening here messing around. What should she do?Not sure how long it took her herself to master the elementary basics of a phone mechanic.She didn't have a hard time learning technology, and even built a radio while in school.After all, she just needs to know how to effectively destroy that equipment.How about she go to the post office to find someone and follow her for two days?

The trouble is, no one can tell what kind of equipment awaits the vandals when they enter the castle.That could be French or German, maybe a mixture of the two, and maybe even American imported machinery - the US is far ahead of the French in this regard.There are many types of equipment, and castles are responsible for various functions.There were manual exchanges, automatic exchanges, and transit exchanges in series with other exchange stations, as well as amplification stations for all the important new trunk lines to Germany.Only an experienced engineer can tell them apart for sure when they go inside and see them with their own eyes.

Of course, engineers can also be found in France, and if there is time, Flick may find a woman in time.The idea was impractical, but she considered it anyway.Special Operations can send messages to each resistance group.If there's a suitable woman there, she'll take a day or two to Reims, maybe in time.However, such a plan is not safe.Are there any female phone mechanics in the Resistance?If not, Flick would have wasted two days before he knew the whole plan had fallen through. No, she had to be absolutely sure.Her thoughts returned to Greta.Her French may not be enough.The Gestapo might not pay attention to her accent because they themselves spoke French that way, but the French police would.Does she have to pretend to be French?There were also quite a few German women in France: officers' wives, young women in the army, drivers, typists and radio operators.Flick felt hopeful again.Why not?Greta can dress up as an army secretary.No, that won't work--the officer will give her orders when he sees her.It's safer to pretend to be a civilian.She could be the young wife of an officer, living with her husband in France, no, in Vichy, which is farther away.A story had to be made up to explain why Greta was traveling with some French women.Maybe someone in the group could pose as her French servant.

What happened after they entered the castle?Flick knew very well that no German woman would work as a cleaner in France.How could Greta get away with it?Then again, the Germans probably wouldn't spot her accent, but the French would.Tell her not to speak to any Frenchman?Pretend she has laryngitis? She might get away with the past few minutes, Flick thought. Although this is not a perfect solution, it is better than several other methods. Greta sang one last upbeat blues song, "Kitchen Man," full of puns.Audiences love the line "I ate his donuts, leaving only the hole in them."As Greta left the stage to rapturous applause, Mark stood up and said, "Let's go talk to her in the dressing room."

Flick followed him through the door next to the stage, down a stinking concrete corridor, into a dimly lit area littered with beer and gin cartons.It's like a wine cellar under a run-down pub.They approached a door with a cutout of a pink star fastened with thumbtacks.Mark knocked on the door and opened it without waiting for a response from inside. The small room contained a dresser, a mirror surrounded by bright vanity lights, a stool, and a Greta Garbo poster for the movie Two-Faced Woman.An elaborate golden wig sits on a stand in the shape of a human head.The red dress Greta wore on stage hangs from a hook on the wall.Flick was surprised to see that sitting on the stool facing the mirror was a young man with chest hair. She gasped. Yes, this is Greta.The face was heavily made up, with brightly painted lips, false eyelashes, neatly plucked eyebrows, and a coat of powder to hide the black stubble.The hair was cut short, apparently for a wig.The fake boobs were probably embedded in the dress, but Greta's stockings were only half off and she was still wearing high heels. Flick turned his head and accused Mark: "Why didn't you say that earlier!" He laughed. "Flick, meet Gerhard," he said, "he just likes being unrecognizable." Flick was also pleased to see Gerhard.Of course, she treated him like a real woman, which made him happy.It was a reward for his talent, and her reaction was not offensive to him, it did not hurt him at all. But he's a man and what she wants is a female phone mechanic. Flick was suddenly disappointed.Greta would have been the final piece of the whole puzzle, and with this woman, the team was built.Now, the mission is back in the air. She became angry with Mark. "You're so mean!" she said. "I thought you'd solve my problems, but you're only joking." "This isn't a joke," Mark said angrily. "If you want a woman, it's Greta." "I can't do that," Flick said. The idea was absurd. Really can't?Greta had fooled her, and she could have fooled the Gestapo just as well.If they had caught him and stripped him clean, it would have been revealed, but if it got to that point, the whole plan was over. She thought again of the SOS organizational ties, and of Simon Fortescue from MI6. "The superiors will not agree." "Then don't tell them," Mark suggested. "Don't tell them!" Flick was surprised at first, but immediately felt that this method was not bad.If Greta could fool the Gestapo, she could fool the Special Operations as well. "All right?" Mark asked. "Is it okay?" Flick repeated the question. Gerhard said, "Mark, dear, what are you doing?" His German accent was heavier than when he sang. "I don't know," Mark told him. "My sister works undercover." "I'll explain it to you," said Flick, "but first tell me how you came to London?" "Well, my dear, where do I start?" Gerhard lit a cigarette. "I'm from Hamburg. That was twelve years ago, when I was seventeen, or A telephone mechanic apprentice. It was a beautiful city with bars and nightclubs full of sailors enjoying shore leave. It was the best time I ever had. At eighteen I met the love of my life, he Manfred." Gerhard's eyes filled with tears, and Mark took his hand.Sobbing, Gerhard continued in an unfeminine manner: "I've always liked women's clothes, lace underwear and high heels, and hats and handbags. I love the rustle of long skirts. But those I've got such a rough day, I don't even know how to put eyeliner on. Manfred taught me everything. He doesn't wear women's clothes, you know." Gerhard's face showed a trace of affection. "Actually , he was very masculine and worked as a porter on the docks. But he loved watching me dress up and showing me how to do it." "Why are you leaving?" "They took Manfred. Those damn Nazis, dear. We were together for five years, but they came for him one night and I haven't seen him since. He's probably dead, I think jail time alone will kill him, but I'm not sure." Tears melted his mascara and streaked black lines on his powdered cheeks, "He might as well be alive, stay in the In some goddamn concentration camp, you know." His grief infected Flick, and she fought back tears.What on earth got into the brains of those people and made them persecute others?What was it, she asked herself, that allowed the Nazis to torture a eccentric like Gerhard, who did no harm to anyone? "Then I was in London," said Gerhard. "My father was English. He was a sailor in Liverpool, and when he disembarked at Hamburg he met a pretty German girl and married her. He lived between us. died at the age of 1939, so I don't know him at all, but he gave me his last name - O'Reilly, and I've always had dual citizenship. However, in 1939, it took all my savings to get a passport .Looking back, I went just in time. Luckily every city needs a phone mechanic, so I came here and became a popular drag diva in London." "Your story is sad," Flick said. "I'm sorry." "Thank you, dear. But it's full of sad stories right now, isn't it? Why did you come to me?" "I need a female telephone mechanic." "What the hell is it for?" "I can't tell you too much. Mark said it just now. It's a secret. The only thing I can tell you is that this job is dangerous and you may die." "It's horrible! But you can guess I'm not very good at this kind of fighting. They say I'm not mentally fit to be a soldier, and that's not bad. In the army, there may be Half the recruits will beat me up, and the other half will sneak into my bed at night." "I have already found soldiers who can fight and kill. I only need your skills." "So there's a chance to fight those damn Nazis?" "Exactly. If we succeed, we will wreak havoc on Hitler's regime." "Well then, honey, the girl is yours." Flick laughed.My God, she thought, I fixed it.