Free The Secret Agent by Stephan Talty Page A

American legation, out of solidarity with conquered Denmark, had hired a group of young Danish refugees to work as office boys. One of them spotted the fake document and, thinking it was evidence of Swedish treachery, stole it and smuggled it to a member of the Danish underground. From there it was sent to Trots Allt , which promptly published a story complete with a list of the industrialists and bank officials who’d “signed” the document. Erickson’s name, which was already blackened by his association with the Nazis, was now whispered with revulsion in the streets of Stockholm. Not only was Erickson doing business with the Third Reich, not only had he turned Prince Carl into a fascist, he was now going to build a Nazi oil plant inside Sweden .
    The industrialists and bankers were outraged. Luckily, Erickson had had the foresight to warn the Germans that this is exactly what would happen. Under tremendous pressure from the Swedish press, Erickson flew to Berlin to sell the deal, now hanging by a thread.
    After checking into the Hotel Eden, Erickson took a taxi to 8 Prinz Albrechtstrasse. The building still filled him with dread, its reputation as the last station for spies and saboteurs still fresh in his mind. He was escorted to Himmler’s office and greeted the Gestapo chief like a long-lost friend. After snapping out a crisp “Heil Hitler,” he launched into his pitch, detailing the secret Swedish agreement to build the plant. He presented Himmler with a full-color poster he’d had printed up for the trip. It showed tankers traveling the waters between Sweden and Germany, filled with oil and gas for the war effort. Underneath the illustration was the deal’s slogan, worthy of Madison Avenue: “Meeting Halfway.”
    The poster revealed the deal’s psychological strategy. The OSS believed the Germans would see the Sweden deal as a propaganda win for their side. Building a new refinery in a neutral country would show that the Reich was doing business as usual, expanding its industrial footprint into the Nordic region, thinking ahead. It would imply that theGermans were still confident they would win the war. In mid-1944, the Allies were unaware of the delusional nature of Hitler’s leadership. (Hitler by then had banned nearly all negative military reports from his underlings.) Purely by accident, the plan aligned with the psychological atmosphere inside Germany’s ruling clique.
    Himmler smiled and studied the poster, while Erickson chatted with the Reichsführer about one of his obsessions: horses. Erickson had learned through his sources that Himmler wanted to breed steppe-horses that would eventually replace cars as a means of transport. It was a mad fantasy, part of the Nazis’ utopian vision for postwar Europe. But Erickson flattered him anyway.
    Himmler, his head bent over the poster, nodded. “You know, Erickson,” he said. “You Swedes are the archetype of the Nordic race. It’s people like you that I want to be working with.”
    Erickson thanked him. But if Sweden were the true home of the Aryan race, why not build a factory there? Himmler took the bait. He suggested the American meet with German engineers to talk plant design. To Himmler’s surprise, Erickson declined. He told the Gestapo chief that in order to pull off the deal, he needed to travel to the best oil facilities in Germany and see what the country’s real needs were. Only then could he build the right kind of factory.
    Himmler nodded, then called over one of his assistants and gave orders that Erickson would be permitted to travel—and here he emphasized—“alone.” The assistant quickly typed up a document and handed it to the American. It was a pass that allowed the bearer to travel throughout the Third Reich and inspect any factory or plant. The Nazis would even provide a car, driver and fuel coupons. Erickson looked at the paper in