Taplow, England           Siegfried Feuermacht strolled the grounds of Cliveden, the English home of 2nd Viscount Waldorf Astor. Even on a bleak wintry day, he could see the beauty of the property surrounding the country house. The formal gardens featured exquisite fountains encircled by a thicket of woodlands. Off to the southeast, a mist was settling on the villages that dotted the shores of the River Thames, as it snaked through the lowlands.           Feuermacht studied a statue of Pluto and Proserpine. Lady Nancy Astor referred to the Florentine sculpture, as an art treasure from the 16th century, but the lack of sun made the magnificent bronze look dull and insignificant. In Germany, this statue would shine, he thought. Here, it’s wasted in this miserable climate.           The cold air was biting, with a dampness that seeped inside his clothing. Feuermacht pulled his heavy fur collar tightly around his neck to shield it from the wind. His black gloves were handmade of the finest lambskin, but even their silk linings could not ward off the chill. He shivered, but resisted returning to the house. He liked the quiet grounds and the relative privacy they afforded him. On the estate, Feuermacht found a sense of peace that was non-existent for him elsewhere. Adolf Hitler’s army was growing into a major force and needed capital to continue building its military power. Conscription was bringing the Third Reich the soldiers it needed, but arms and munitions cost money. The Reich had turned to Feuermacht for a stroke of brilliance, for he had already proven his mettle as an expert strategist. Indeed, his discreet maneuverings had helped propel Hitler to a seat of power and the hierarchy of the Third Reich knew Feuermacht was a silent partner in the Führer’s ascendancy. Now, they wanted more.           Of course, all the money the Nazis needed could be found in one place. And it was money few would claim as their own. The Swiss Federal Banking Act had insured secrecy for depositors who did not want the extent of their wealth made known. Affluent Germans, who feared the Gestapo would force them to turn over their financial holdings, secretly sought the anonymous accounts. And they were not alone.           Politicians, royalty and even the clergy sought out Swiss banks. If Germany invaded Switzerland and took over its vaults, Feuermacht felt sure that few would claim what was rightfully theirs, for fear of retribution.           But an invasion would be problematic.           Although the Swiss preached neutrality, Feuermacht knew they had been preparing to defend themselves against the Germans, ever since Adolph Hitler had come into power. And the Swiss would fight to the death. Besides that, the Alps would be rough terrain for Nazi troops to maneuver in. The Third Reich was searching for the perfect way to launch a Swiss takeover, but there didn't seem to be one. Germany needed an invasion plan that would be unexpected and cunning.           Feuermacht would give the matter his full consideration, but later.           It was dinnertime and the Astors liked to entertain lavishly – something Feuermacht enjoyed, immensely. *           Nancy Astor opened the door to the drawing room to make sure everything was perfect before her guests started wandering in.           She was an American – born Nancy Witcher Langhorne – the daughter of a wealthy railway magnate from Virginia. She had come to England after the breakup of her first marriage and had met and married Waldorf Astor. Cliveden had been a wedding present from her new father-in-law and she couldn’t imagine living anywhere else. When her father-in-law died, her husband had inherited the title of Viscount and became a peer in the House of Lords and Nancy had become a Lady.           She had been a great beauty in her youth. And even now, in her fifth decade with her former blond locks heavily woven with grey, she still retained the graciousness and sense of humor that charmed everyone around her, especially those who shared her political views. She embraced her politics like she did everything else in life – with great gusto. She had complete confidence that she was absolutely right in all her beliefs and made sure everyone around her knew it.           She was not pleased with the room she was looking into. It was dark with heavy wood paneling and coffered ceilings. Although fireplaces brightened the space, as did the electric lights she had installed when she and Waldorf had first moved in, a sense of foreboding permeated the air. Maybe it was the weather that made it seem dark, or perhaps it was her mood. Or maybe she was prescient and realized on some unconscious level, that dark days lay ahead. *           Upstairs in his dressing room, Waldorf Astor brushed his salt and pepper hair back from his forehead.           He was the same age as Nancy and like her, had the carriage and bearing of the well educated and the very wealthy. Oddly enough, a regal stance and a purposeful walk were not taught at either Eton or New College in Oxford, but that was where he had picked them up. It was something he learned just by being in the company of powerful people. By emulating them, their mastery of movement had become his.           Rumors of military escalation in Germany disturbed him and it showed in the set of his brow and the lines etched in his face.           The Viscount brushed a few stray hairs from his dark suit. Surely, Feuermacht would have an opinion. Waldorf wondered if his guest’s point of view would concur with his own. *           Feuermacht adjusted the cufflinks on his French silk shirt. They were made of gold and engraved with his family crest. They had been a personal gift from Adolf Hitler. Feuermacht was quite proud of them and relieved they weren't emblazoned with swastikas. The Führer had started handing out special gifts bearing the emblem of the Nazi party, but Feuermacht knew the swastika and what it had come to symbolize, was not fully embraced by the English. Besides, he liked to think his gift had been different. It was well known in Germany that the Führer respected Feuermacht’s strategic input, but Feuermacht suspected Hitler’s admiration for him was for more than his intellect.           Feuermacht personified the Aryan race. He was tall and lean with broad shoulders and had dark blond hair, pale blue eyes and a square jaw marked by a cleft chin. He charmed women without trying and wasn’t averse to using his good looks to get what he wanted. It was suspected he charmed men, as well. *           When Feuermacht finally entered the drawing room for cocktails, everyone was abuzz.           Major George Thorpington, an archivist for the British War Department, was blustering about an announcement that the Gestapo had been given the right to eliminate all perceived enemies of the Nazi regime.           Waldorf watched as Feuermacht mix himself a drink. “How can the German Gestapo say they’re above the law?” Waldorf asked. “I can understand the Führer wanting to bring his homeland back to its former glory, but to place the Gestapo above written law is outrageous.”           Waldorf knew what he was talking about. He was German by descent, but he had been born in the United States and educated in England and was very much the British politician. He did not want to see his adopted country embroiled in a war with Germany and feared the British military would not be able to stand up to the Germans. He usually promoted entente rather than open hostility, unlike his wife Nancy, who often publicly criticized the Nazi regime.           Tonight, however, they were of the same mind. ***