The Polish-German Border, near Gleiwitz, Friday, 31 August 1945
Jan Pajak, with two of his own operatives, had driven to the old hunting lodge in the forest that morning to prepare to extract the agent ‘Wolfgang’; now he sat in the lodge alone. His men, familiar with the forest tracks from previous cross-border excursions, had gone to bring ‘Wolfgang’ safely into Polish territory. ‘The Spider’ waited patiently in the shadows, the lodge lit only by the dim glow of a camp lantern.
At last he could hear footsteps approach – and out of habit he laid his palm on the small automatic pistol that lay on the table before him – he was not expecting trouble. The door opened to admit a figure – a man of medium height, with a cap pulled low over his face.
“Welcome ‘Wolfgang’”, said Pajak in good German; and with that he turned up the lamp to illuminate a small circle around them. “Please sit down,” he added. The visitor nodded, and did as he was asked. “Come on in fellows,” Pajak said in a louder tone, calling to his two companions who had escorted ‘Wolfgang’ across the border.
“I fear that your friends cannot hear you,” said the visitor, raising his cap to reveal a wry smile. “They are rather sleepy at the moment.”
“I know your face…” exclaimed Pajak.
“Quite possibly,” replied Walter Schellenburg, “but that is unimportant. What is important is the choice you make in the next few minutes.”
Pajak had seen a photograph of the man before him, and knew him to be a German officer. His words suggested that Pajak had fallen into an elaborate trap; and Pajak was sufficiently experienced not to panic but to hear the German out.
Schellenburg now began to outline in good detail the depths to which he had penetrated Pajak’s network – the agents who had been turned, the totally fictitious agents that had been introduced to the network, the amount of false information that had been passed on to the Polish intelligence authorities, and the amount of money Pajak had spent to acquire the spurious secrets.
“You see,” the Abwehr officer explained, “tomorrow we will move against those of your agents whom we have not yet turned, and expose those we have already taken under our control. Your entire network will be compromised.”
Pajak started to reach for the pistol but Schellenburg raised a hand. “Shooting me will not stop the move against your agents – it will only cause my men outside to deal harshly with you. I have come to make you an offer – you should not refuse.”
“What do you mean?” asked Pajak.
“You have the choice of coming with me back to Germany, where you can tell us in comfort the complete details of your organisation, or, in an hour or so, your men will have awakened and freed themselves from where they are tied, and you can explain what happened as best you can; and then tomorrow, when all hell breaks loose, you can explain yourself to your superiors in Warsaw – particularly when the details of the Swiss bank account in your name becomes common knowledge.”
The German fell silent for a moment, allowing Pajak to consider the implications. In the rather arcane world of Polish military intelligence, failure was not suffered gladly; and there were many operatives there who would happily rejoice at his downfall. For the sums of money paid to agents in Germany he was fully responsible – and it the Germans now made it look as if he had lined his own pockets with it Pajak would not be able to talk his way out of prison at best, a bullet at worst.
“And should I choose to follow you?” he asked.
Schellenburg replied. “After a thorough debriefing, we can provide a new identity – if you wish – and arrange your travel to somewhere far from Warsaw. We might even give you access to the Swiss account that now has a very substantial balance.” The Abwehr officer checked his watch. “I will leave you to make your decision in quiet.”
Schellenburg rose and put the cap back on his head. He seemed assured that the Pole would not try to stop him from leaving. “I think you have a least twenty minutes, perhaps a few more. I will leave several of my people outside to guide you across the border should you choose wisely.”
With that, the German left. Pajak made no move to stop him; eliminating one German would not change the results. Of course, there was a third choice, which the German had not mentioned. “The Spider” patted the pistol and pondered his possible courses of action.
For his own part, Schellenburg followed the track from the lodge that led to the border, collecting some of the men he had brought with him, leaving two to monitor the situation. They returned to the cars that had brought them to the border and waited.
At last three figures emerged from the forest to join them – “The Spider” had decided to cut his losses and accept Schellenburg’s offer. Pajak had left his pistol in the lodge, where his own men found it sometime later, wondering what had happened…