Saturday, 10th June 1916

David spent an uncommonly quiet Friday at the Embassy, occasionally enlivened by answering questions from Bryce as he settled into the new position. Now confident he could hold the fort in his absence, he decided to take the weekend off and spend it with Maria.

Mid-morning on Saturday, following a leisurely breakfast, David and Maria left the residence on foot in the warmth of the clear early-summer day.

They crossed the Kirchenfeld bridge, pausing midway to look down at the Aare, its deep green waters sliding around the curve far below. "This still feels strange," Maria said, "to stand here and think of all that has happened in the past year. Our escape, helping Tante sell and buy, restoring Sonnenhang, arriving here with nothing but ideas and hopes – and the dread of your going back to the trenches."

"One year ago next week. The thirteenth."

Maria chuckled. "Your head is so full of numbers. How do you remember it all?"

He shrugged. "Automatically, it seems. But this one is easy to remember – our arrival at the Embassy was a significant turning point. Meeting Henry and Evelyn – acceptance, recognition of potential."

"True. And all that followed. Now look where you are – how key you are."

"We are, Maria. Your clear thinking and unwavering support have been a vital aspect of the mission's success – and they continue to be."

She smiled. "Thinking and supporting are the easy parts. Out there doing is ... is full of risk ... of the unknown."

"But if we imagine the possibilities, the unpredictable turns, the worst outcomes, and conceive solutions, I'm much more ready to face whatever." He tilted his head along the bridge. "Shall we wander through the Old Town and think?"

After following the arc of the Nydeggbrücke and taking a narrow street past houses leaning close above arcades, Maria paused her thought and said, "Along here is where we found the Tobler shop last year, isn't it? Shall we search for it?"

A while later, with a selection of chocolates in a bound box and some to immediately enjoy wrapped in a sheet of stiff paper, they continued wandering the maze of streets, refining David's itinerary. "The Passierschein, the document Wilhelm sent me for the Karlsruhe meeting, is still valid for travel within Germany, but not for crossing the border. Getting the wine across might be difficult."

Maria tilted her head. "Why not go to Schaffhausen instead of Basel? Take the wine and whatever else through the tunnel, then drive the Lancia across empty."

"But how would I explain my reason for crossing at Erzingen? A strange place for a watch salesman from Bienne to cross."

"Deliver the hams and sausages to the delicatessen. There's ample room in the boot and backseat."

David nodded. "Yes, and if asked, tell them the Daimler has a mechanical problem."

"That would be best – they see it every day coming and going, and mentioning it would reinforce your innocence."

They continued refining this, discussing how to handle a range of plausible unexpected turns and twists as they strolled along Kramgasse beneath the arcades. As they paused to watch the fountains in the middle of the street, throwing up their small, steady spouts, Maria asked, "Does it still make sense to drive all the way? Given reports of deteriorated roads, it might be easier and safer to travel by train. Think about your two blown tyres at Karlsruhe – and where that led."

David winced. "Probably better to take the train from Offenburg to Straßburg, and from there to Metz."

"If Metz is the meeting place."

"True. I should know by Tuesday – possibly as soon as Monday."

Then, down a side street toward the Münster, they climbed the short flight of steps to the terrace above the river. As they enjoyed the view of the Oberland Alps faint in the distance, Maria said, "Seems so long ago we sat up there."

"Ummm. Jungfraujoch with a picnic hamper from the hotel."

"That's when you wavered the most seriously, David. Last-minute doubts. You were so close to putting self before duty."

"And your clarity brought me out of it."

Maria nodded as she ran her hand along the top of the stone wall, and after a long silence, asked, "How will you approach Wilhelm?"

"As before. Let him speak. Answer questions simply. Offer nothing that sounds rehearsed. And then listen for what lies beneath his irritation and boredom."

"If the meeting is in Metz, he will be more tense now than in Karlsruhe. Closer to Verdun, closer to the staff, closer to the pressure."

"Yes. Which may make him more careless."

"Or more cautious."

David nodded. "Or both. That is the difficulty."

"Yes, of course. And the wine?"

"He'll likely be eager to taste after all the anticipation. My thought is to take two boxes – twelve bottles – leaving open the possibility of another visit."

"What about introducing him to dry wines, both whites and reds, as Grandpa suggested?"

"Hmm. I could replace two Yquem with a bottle each of Tante's Weißburgunder and Blauburgunder – the 1911."

They walked on, circling back toward the clock tower and the arcades. After a while, Maria said, "How will you get him to talk about troop movements?"

David grinned. "As always, indirectly. I'll grumble a bit about my travel difficulties, deteriorated roads, train delays, frequent checks, whatever else I experience along the way."

Maria nodded and placed a hand on her belly. "My hunger continues to increase. We should head back, not to be late for lunch."

Monday, 12th June 1916

Sunday passed quietly, David and Maria lying long in bed, worshipping each other, before continuing to refine plans.

Then, in the early afternoon on Monday, Sergeant Wilkins knocked on David's open door, entered and handed him a sheet of paper. "Sir, a wire from Mr Wilsdorf."

"Thank you."

"Shall I wait for your reply?"

David scanned the text: METZ 13 JUN STOP ESCORT AT TRAIN STATION 1700 STOP COME FOR MORE DETAILS STOP. Then he looked up and replied, "None needed for this, Sergeant, thank you. On your way by, could you tell Major Tompkins I wish to see him?"

When Wilkins had gone, David sat for a moment, feeling the familiar tightening in his chest that always came when intent turned into date and hour. He began revising his plans to include a stop in Bienne and an arrival in Metz on Tuesday afternoon.

He looked up from his thoughts as Bryce entered and asked. "Wilhelm?"

"Yes, sooner than anticipated – late tomorrow afternoon in Metz."

"And he's agreed to have you met at the train station?"

"At 17:00. Also, Hans says he has details that were unwise to send by wire."

Bryce nodded. "With what Hans told us – reinforced by the men's reports – increasingly unpredictable passenger trains. How?"

"Henry explained the privileges of my Pascherein, the travel document he gave me in Karlsruhe. But it's valid only within Germany, not across the borders. My immediate thought is to visit Hans this afternoon on my way to Sonnenhang – far too much risk taking the wine through the border. The Grenzschutz, the guards, might think it is poison or explosives."

"Aha, take it through the tunnel and drive across with a clean car."

"Yes, that's what Maria and I thought best." David rose, crossed to the window and looked out over the embassy courtyard as lines redrew themselves in his mind. Drive to Bienne, then to Sonnenhang. Wine through the tunnel, then drive across. When? Tonight or in the morning? Aha, the ham and sausage delivery. "But shape first," he murmured. "Details later."