Operation Tulip
WWII Secret Agents Series
by Deborah Swift
Holland, 1944: Undercover British agent Nancy Callaghan has been given her toughest case yet. A key member of the Dutch resistance has been captured, and Nancy must play the role of a wealthy Nazi to win over a notorious SS officer, Detlef Keller, and gain crucial information.
England: Coding expert Tom Lockwood is devastated that the Allies have failed to push back the Nazis, leaving Northern Holland completely cut off from the rest of Europe, and him from his beloved Nancy. Desperate to rescue the love of his life, Tom devises Operation Tulip, a plan to bring Nancy home.
But as Nancy infiltrates the Dutch SS, she finds herself catching the eye of an even more senior member of the Party. Is Nancy in too deep, or can Tom reach her before she gets caught?
Inspired by the true events of occupied Holland during WW2, don't miss this utterly gripping story of love, bravery and sacrifice.
Praise for Deborah Swift:
'The riveting, fast-paced plot doesn't try to prettify the daily struggle – and in doing so, it creates a strong sense of reality.'
~ Ruins & Reading
'A well crafted tale… this book did not disappoint'
~ NetGalley reviewer
'There is action, mystery and romantic entanglements stirred into the story for a fantastically entertaining read'
~ NetGalley reviewer
'Deborah Swift never disappoints'
~ NetGalley reviewer
'A joy to read'
~ NetGalley reviewer
Read an Excerpt from Operation Tulip:
England 1944
The
Red Lion in Milton Bryan was quiet as it was a Saturday afternoon and
most people were at home, keeping out of the chill. The pub lounge felt
cold; Tom and Neil were the only two men in the so-called ‘snug’, except
for the landlord who was up and down to the cellar. Both of them stayed
in their overcoats to ward off the damp.
‘The transmitter worked like a charm,’ Tom said. ‘Though it’s a long time since I had to do any morse code.’
‘Like
you said, we’ll use the silk code, the cypher you invented at Baker
Street, but our own version. Here.’ Neil handed Tom a silk handkerchief.
‘From my father’s things after he died. Will it do? Is there enough
room to print the numbers?’
Tom felt the material. ‘Ideal. And it will be big enough to make cyphers for all three of us. But don’t you want to keep it?’
A
shrug. ‘Father’d be over the moon to see it used this way. I’d be doing
something right for once. Just as long as you can get Nancy out, that’s
the main thing. Now Father’s gone, Mother couldn’t stand it if anything
happened to Nancy. It sounds like hell out there and I worry about her
every day.’
‘What about Pavel? Is he ready? He’s got all his equipment and our passes ready?’
‘Saw
him last night, and he’s all set. He’s got your papers too. You just
have to act like a journalist – look like you’re making notes or
something. You’ll see; we’ll be a great team, you and Pavel and me.’
‘How did you get to know Pavel?’
‘Met
him through the Sunday amateur football league. I’m score-keeper and
groundsman. Lilli thought I should get out more, and she does the teas.
Pavel’s a great player, can’t half run.’
‘So why’s he in England and not in Holland?’
‘Came
over with Queen Wilhelmina, to cover their exile, and he was supposed
to go back, but it turns out the Dutch were keen for more photographs of
their Royal Family. Pavel saw which side his bread was buttered and
cashed in on the demand. But now the southern part’s free, there’s less
interest. People have other concerns now, like stopping the in-fighting
between those who went along with the Nazi occupation and those that
didn’t. And to be honest, I think Pavel’s a bit bored. He says British
girls are too stiff and humourless.’
‘Cheek. Nancy’s got a great sense of humour.’
‘I guess no-one’s got much to laugh at right now. We’re all sick to death of this war.’
‘Must be hard for you though, isn’t it, being married to a German?’
‘She’s
a refugee.’ Neil was emphatic. ‘Not the same thing. And yes, she gets
some stick, but a lot less now she’s Mrs Callaghan.’
Silence
as they supped their pints. Tom leant in and lowered his voice. ‘You
know she asked me if we’d be transmitting from behind enemy lines.’
Neil put down his pint. ‘And what did you say?’
‘I denied it. Of course. But it made me feel like a cad. She saw through it straight away.’
Neil
sighed. ‘Yes, she’s sharp as needles. She’s worried they’ll arrest us,
and what would happen to the baby, if they did. Just last night I woke
up and thought, I can’t let you do this, and I was going to call the
whole thing off. But then I thought of how there’s no plan to feed
anyone in Holland, and the powers-that-be are simply ignoring it and
hoping it will go away. Nancy’s always been my little sister and from
what I can see, she’s had more than her quota of narrow escapes
already.’
Tom
was nodding along. ‘I can’t sit here in London any more. Every time
Nancy comes home on leave it makes me feel more useless. I’ve got to do
something.’
‘At
least we know where she is,’ Neil said. ‘Most families don’t – they’ve
no clue their relatives are even abroad. We’re lucky.’
‘Really?
Sometimes I think it would be better if I didn’t know. Then I’d just
get her postcards like Mother does, and think she was in a nice safe
nursing ward with the FANY’s somewhere. Then I could get rid of this
constant niggling worry.’
Neil gave a grunt of acknowledgement.
Tom
took a sup of his pint and shivered. He’d had enough of waiting for the
war to end. It wasn’t just the chill of the pub with its worn-out bench
seats, but he saw that the turn-ups of Neil’s trousers were frayed, and
his overcoat patched badly at the elbows. That was the pair of them,
like everyone else in England – frayed at the edges and badly patched
up.
‘Here’s to the mission,’ Neil said raising his glass. ‘What shall we call it?’
‘I don’t know. Something to symbolize Holland I suppose. How about Operation Tulip?’
Neil laughed. ‘Sounds ridiculous.’
‘Just
like the war then,’ Tom said. ‘People killing each other over scraps of
land. And in Baker Street, it’s all reduced to paperwork. Drives me
nuts. Acres of it – shelves full of reports, files, memos, all of it top
secret, all of it shipped to a special vault under lock and key.’
‘It all counts, Tom.’
A sigh. ‘I know. And I didn’t mean…’
‘To Operation Tulip.’ They raised their glasses and drank.
 |
| Image (c) Deborah Swift |
Deborah Swift
Deborah
Swift is a USA TODAY bestselling author of twenty books who is
passionate about the past. Deborah used to be a costume designer for the
BBC, before becoming a writer. Now she lives in an old English school
house in a village full of 17th Century houses, near the glorious Lake
District. After taking a Masters Degree in Creative Writing, she enjoys
mentoring aspiring novelists and has an award-winning historical fiction
blog at her website www.deborahswift.com
Deborah
loves to write about how extraordinary events in history have
transformed the lives of ordinary people, and how the events of the past
can live on in her books and still resonate today.
Recent books include The Poison Keeper,
about the Renaissance poisoner Giulia Tofana, which was a winner of the
Wishing Shelf Book of the Decade Award, and a Coffee Pot Book Club Gold
Medal. Her most recent books are The Silk Code and The Shadow Network, both set in the Second World War.
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