Free The Invasion of 1950 by Christopher Nuttall

about the Grey Wolves. Davall had told her, right from the start, just so he could rely on her help if he needed it. She was braver than he was. The Germans wouldn’t hesitate to drag her off in chains if they suspected his role. “There is a more important issue at hand.”
     
    He put down the tea and leaned forward. “I got a message from the Major-General yesterday,” he said, grimly. Davall frowned; there was only one Major-General who would have an interest in talking to a lowly police constable – Gubbins himself. “We’re on alert status, as of yesterday, but a covert alert status.”
     
    Davall felt his blood run cold. “Is this it?”
     
    “I don’t know,” Johnston admitted. “The message wasn't particularly clear – it was meant to avoid attracting attention from people in the police station who aren’t meant to know about the Grey Wolves or my role in them – but it included code phases indicating that it is believed possible that the Germans might launch their invasion. It didn’t say anything about where the Germans will land – and as far as I know, from the last major briefing, that was expected in Dover – or when, but there is a good chance that they will try something within the next few weeks.”
     
    “I understand,” Davall said. “Do they have any specific orders for us?”
     
    “There weren’t any included on the message, although I suspect that there may be a courier within the next few days to remind you that you have some duties,” Johnston said. “If the Germans invade outside your area of operations, your orders are the same as they always were; stay inactive unless summoned to the colours.  If the Germans occupy the area, harass them as seems appropriate and, until then, remain under cover.”
     
    Davall remembered the last courier he’d met personally and silently thanked God that he’d had the sense to meet him far away from Kate and anything else that could be used to identify him. The man had been too excited at the thought of meeting one of the auxiliary units to believe that he would keep it quiet.
     
    “Of course,” he said, dryly. The Grey Wolves had always been a secret from every other serviceman around their operations area; they’d only been used rarely and never as a group. They didn’t dare risk allowing themselves to be identified too soon. “What sort of orders do you have for a landing?”
     
    Johnston shrugged. “The orders haven’t changed much,” he said. “I’m to remain at my post, try and keep people calm, and try to avoid collaborating too much with them.”
     
    Davall nodded. They’d been briefed on how the Germans had acted in the different countries they’d conquered. In the western countries, they’d been almost civilised, at least at first. They'd kept the police around, but they’d insisted that some of the policemen help them hunt for Jews and resistance fighters. As far as Davall could remember, the partisans in France had only scored minor successes, at best.
     
    He had been briefed on how vicious the Germans had been to the inhabitants of the Eastern countries. He’d seen some grainy movies, filmed by Germans and sent to Britain, that had given him nightmares for a week, where every one of the bodies or slaves bore Kate’s face. If the Germans treated the British population like that, the Grey Wolves would extract what revenge they could, but he feared that it would be a terrible test of strength. One day, they would find him and punish him with a bullet in the back of his head.
     
    He kept that thought from showing on his face. “You poor bastard,” he said, as Johnston got up to leave. “Do you have anything else for us to do?”
     
    “Not at this time.” Johnston said. “Check your weapons and equipment when you have a moment, but remember; you can’t trust anyone. If you fail to keep your own security, you will be broken quickly by the Germans and then treated as an illegal combatant.”
     
    “I