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countryside with no difficulty. A Polish commando unit would do famously.'
     
     
'It would certainly take care of the language problem,' Hofer said. 'But that Polish unit Mrs. Grey mentioned had English officers, not just English-speaking. If the Herr Oberst will forgive me for saying so, there's a difference.'
     
     
'Yes, you're right,' Radl told him. 'All the difference in the world. If the officer in charge is English or apparently English, then that would make the whole thing so much tighter.'
     
     
Hofer looked at his watch. 'If I might remind the Herr Oberst, the Heads of Section weekly meeting is due to start in the Admiral's office in precisely ten minutes.'
     
     
'Thank you, Karl.' Radl tightened his belt and stood up. 'So, it would appear that our feasibility study is virtually complete. We seem to have covered everything.'
     
     
'Except for what is perhaps the most important item of all, Herr Oberst.'
     
     
Radl was half-way to the door and now he paused. 'All right, Karl, surprise me.'
     
     
'The leader of such a venture, Herr Oberst. He would have to be a man of extraordinary abilities.'
     
     
'Another Otto Skorzeny,' Radl suggested.
     
     
'Exactly,' Hofer said. 'With, in this case, one thing more. The ability to pass as an Englishman.'
     
     
Radl smiled beautifully. 'Find him for me. Karl. I'll give you forty-eight hours.' He opened the door quickly and went out.
     
     
.
     
     
As it happened, Radl had to go to Munich unexpectedly the following day and it was not until after lunch on Thursday that he re-appeared in his office at the Tirpitz Ufer. He was extremely tired, having slept very little in Munich the night before. The Lancaster bombers of the RAF had pressed their attentions on that city with more than usual severity.
     
     
Hofer produced coffee instantly and poured him a brandy. 'Good trip, Herr Oberst?'
     
     
'Fair,' Radl said. 'Actually, the most interesting happening was when we were landing yesterday. Our Junkers was buzzed by an American Mustang fighter. Caused more than a little panic, I can tell you. Then we saw that it had a Swastika on the tailplace. Apparently it was one which had crash-landed and the Luftwaffe had put it into working order and were flight testing.'
     
     
'Extraordinary, Herr Oberst.'
     
     
Radl nodded. 'It gave me an idea, Karl. That little problem you had about Dorniers or Junkers surviving over the Norfolk coast.' And then he noticed a fresh green manilla folder on the desk. 'What's this?'
     
     
'The assignment you gave me, Herr Oberst. The officer who could pass as an Englishman. Took some digging out, I can tell you, and there's a report of some court martial proceedings which I've indented for. They should be here this afternoon.'
     
     
'Court martial?' Radl said. 'I don't like the sound of that.' He opened the file. 'Who on earth is this man?'
     
     
'His name is Steiner. Lieutenant-Colonel Kurt Steiner,' Hofer said, 'and I'll leave you in peace to read about him. It's an interesting story.'
     
     
.
     
     
It was more than interesting. It was fascinating.
     
     
Steiner was the only son of Major-General Karl Steiner, at present area commander in Brittany. He had been born in 1916 when his father was a major of artillery. His mother was American, daughter of a wealthy wool merchant from Boston who had moved to London for business reasons. In the month that her son was born, her only brother had died on the Somme as a captain in a Yorkshire infantry regiment.
     
     
The boy had been educated in London, spending five years at St Paul's during the period his father was military attache at the German Embassy, and spoke English fluently. After his mother's tragic death in a car crash in 1931, he had returned to Germany with his father, but had continued to visit relatives in Yorkshire until 1938.
     
     
For a while, he had studied art in Paris, maintained by his father, the bargain being that if it didn't work out he would enter the