Read Online The End of War - A Novel of the Race for Berlin - [World War II 02] by David L. Robbins - Free Book Online

cracks a grin, an old friend. ”I’d forgotten.”
     
    Roosevelt spins the red top-secret folder through the air to Hopkins.
     
    “Winston again.”
     
    Harry scans the thin telegraph sheet. He says, “Still on this Malta business.”
     
    “He keeps telling me he wants to meet before the Big Three.”
     
    Hopkins thins his lips, disapproving of Churchill’s nagging. “Remember what he said last week? ‘I do not see any other way of realizing our hopes about world organization in five or six days. Even the Almighty took seven.’”
     
    Roosevelt nods agreement. He knows Winston’s insistence too well.
     
    Harry shakes his head. “And what was that bullshit he wrote you on New Year’s Day?”
     
    Roosevelt lifts a finger to claim the right: Let me do this one.
     
    “ ‘No more let us falter! From Malta to Yalta! Let nobody alter!’”
     
    “Good grief.” Harry chuckles. “Jesus Christ, that guy.”
     
    Roosevelt enjoys the laughter with Hopkins. He says, “Look, Harry, I don’t want it. I’ll have dinner in Malta, a few drinks, whatever, but no powwow. The Chiefs of Staff can meet, military is fine but nothing political. And not me and Winston, not officially. Uncle Joe won’t like it. Handle this for me.”
     
    “I’ll write the response.”
     
    “Good.”
     
    Hopkins takes a cigarette pack from his coat pocket. He shakes one straight into his mouth. Matches are already in his hand.
     
    “He doesn’t get it, Harry.” Roosevelt feels the urge to push himself back from the desk, stand and pace, it never goes away, wanting that freedom. Instead he claps a hand on the desk, settles for this. “It’s not the seventeenth century anymore. England is done with that. Europe is done with that.Two world wars have been fought, in consecutive generations. Everything’s changed. The whole world.”
     
    Hopkins says, “Winston’s just an old-style imperialist. He’s even said so. What was it? ‘I have not become the King’s Prime Minister to preside over the liquidation of the British Empire.’”
     
    Roosevelt slaps the table again. “Tell me one thing, Harry. Name one thing British imperialism has done in four hundred years for their colonial peoples.”
     
    “Not damned much.”
     
    “I won’t have it, Harry. We fought World War I to make the world safe for democracy and all we did was make it safe for imperialism. That is not going to be the new world order after this war. That’s not what the United Nations is all about. You know, if England wants us to help them stay a first-class power, they’re going to have to stop this oppressive imperialism. England’s going to have to reckon with us, Harry. That’s not something they’re used to yet. But they will be, soon as we finish this war for them.”
     
    Hopkins scribbles notes on a pad. Without looking up he elevates his free hand, lifts the thumb. That’s right.
     
    Roosevelt says into the room, “Don’t get me wrong, I love Winston. He’s one of the greatest men of this century, no doubt about it. But he wants to continue old-fashioned balance-of-power politics. I’ve got news for him, balance-of-power is why we’re in this war in the first place. All it does is hang on to the same tensions and alliances that made peace impossible after World War I. And we get sucked into two foreign wars this century. Those politics are ancient. What can you do?”
     
    Harry’s cigarette goes to his mouth. Still writing, the cigarette dangling on the dampness of his lips, he says, “England’s ancient, Mr. President. What can you do?”
     
    Roosevelt nods. “The United Nations. America. Britain. China and Russia. Got to have Russia in or it won’t work.”
     
    Hopkins finishes and raises his head. He looks like a starved, neglected pooch.
     
    “Your boy Stalin. That’s a bastard.”
     
    “Oh, Joe’s all right, Harry. He’s get-at-able.”
     
    “He’s a totalitarian.”
     
    “And he’s killed eight out of ten