Armistice Plot

By Dora Benley

The novel Armistice Plot begins at an archaeological site at Carchemish in 1914 as Edward Ware’s father and Leonard Woolley close down their dig in the face of war. As Edward peers into the tent at midnight he sees a dark-robed intruder brushing past the figurine of an ancient Hittite king that he and T.E.Lawrence excavated at Carchemish this summer in 1914.

Is this a spy sent by the Germans to steal the maps Lawrence is sketching for the British military? Edward first encounters the vamp who will haunt the rest of his life prowling among the finds, looking for the military maps that his fellow archaeologist T. E.Lawrence is drawing for the British government.

All during the ensuing Great War Edward must fight to keep the maps secret. Finally during the Battle of Damascus Edward and Lawrence defeat the Turks and make them sue for peace. They will sign the Armistice ending the war. But the vamp, though imprisoned in Damascus, escapes. Edward must chase her down.

There are hints that she is fleeing to join with the Austrian corporal, Adolf Hitler, who is beginning a new movement in Munich. Signs of a new war appear on the horizon though the first has just come to an end with an Armistice that isn’t worth the paper it is written on.

This is an historical thriller about Edward’s contest to the death first with the German Kaiser and then with Hitler himself. It will determine the woman he will marry and the woman he will not. It will drive him to the brink of madness in a century gone insane.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dora Benley
• Release date: Oct 1, 2018
• ISBN: 9781941654408

Dora Benley

Dora Benley is the pseudonym of an author of historical thrillers and young adult thrillers as well as historical novels about the ancient world and the Romans. She is the heroine of the Edward Ware Thrillers at War imprint of Cheops Books LLC and is married to the hero, Edward Ware. She is the daughter of a Pittsburgh Robber Baron and has had noteworthy experiences in war and peace in Europe and America. She lives on both continents. Her first published book on Smashwords is Armistice Plot.

Book preview

Preface

Colonel T. E. Lawrence enters Damascus on October 1, 1918 directly after the Battle of Damascus. The Turks have abandoned the city. The forces led by General Allenby and Lawrence have defeated them, and they are ready to surrender. They are anxious to sign the Armistice ending the Great War.

But the end of the war also marks the beginning of the rise of Hitler. Hitler joins the Nazi Party in 1919 and begins fighting Communists in the streets of Munich. Hitler achieves a long and hard-fought rise to power in 1933. Lieutenant Edward Ware, soon to be Colonel Sir Edward Ware, is there to fight him every inch of the way. He and Churchill must prevent Hitler from stealing the Lawrence maps, key to world domination.

***

The cover of the novel, drawn by Daniel Teran, depicts an event of October 1, 1918, when T. E. Lawrence and his adjutant, Lieutenant Edward Ware, drive into Damascus to accept the city’s surrender at the end of the Great War. The Turks are surrendering to the British under General Allenby. They are ready to sign the Armistice. Thus the title of the novel, Armistice Plot.

Armistice Day for the whole war on all fronts is to be November 11, 1918, when, at 11 A.M., Big Ben rings out for the first time since August 1914. It is now one hundred years since the end of World War 1, or the First World War.

Chapter 1: 1914

Carchemish, Turkey

A bright beam of moonlight struck a gray stone stela leaning against a wooden workbench. Carvings in the stone showed Hittite soldiers carrying weapons over their shoulders as they marched in tight formation. Right next to it stood another stela depicting King Araras leading his son Kamanas and another, unnamed son. All wore long tunics with sashes for belts and headdresses that completely covered their hair.

This was the first sight Edward saw as he pulled back the tent flap leading to their workshop at the dig site of Carchemish in Turkey at midnight on August 11, 1914. He just had heard someone go in there, and he had to see who it was.

Behind the Hittite stelae someone moved in the dark recesses of the tent. The midnight intruder bumped into a desk where they had been working on a lion statue with cuneiform writing all over it. The beast had his mouth open, baring fangs that could barely be made out in the moonlight.

It all went plummeting to the ground. Edward plunged into the tent. He nearly tripped over the lion as it skittered across the tent floor in the darkness.

Who goes there? He lighted a lantern that sat on one of the work benches. Holding it aloft, he slowly moved it to the right and then to the left. He had to step carefully. This tent was where the archaeologists for the British Museum stored all the basalt reliefs, stelae, potsherds, etc., dug up under the auspices of Leonard Woolley and his college chum from Oxford, T. E. Lawrence.

Twenty-one-year-old Edward Ware heard a noise. He stood still and listened. The sound repeated itself. He started forward in that direction where the knave must be hiding. Though he hoped it was not, now that England had declared war on Germany, a week ago on August 4, 1914, it very likely could be a German spy. After all, T. E. Lawrence, in addition to acting as an archaeologist, was drawing battle maps for the British High Command, to be delivered to British Mid-East Headquarters in Cairo. German engineers worked only a few miles away, where they were busy constructing a bridge across the Euphrates. It was to form a key link in the Berlin-to-Baghdad railway. Naturally they would want to spy on everything Lawrence did.

Edward rounded the sharp corner of a work bench. His light shown on a Neo-Hittite relief, a god with a dagger and horned crown, brandishing an axe above his head. It looked as if he were ready to plunge the axe into Edward’s shoulder. The young man stepped back in alarm.

The intruder took advantage of the moment to slip out of the lab tent. He was very fleet of foot, leaping over stones like a galloping steed. Edward caught up to the offender and tackled him. He had been a star rugby player at Christ’s College, Oxford. He brought the would-be vandal to the ground.

The spy screeched. He could hardly believe it. Why, it was a young woman!

He clapped his hand over the intruder’s ruby red lips. In the moonlight he could make out fleshy cheeks and dark eyes with long eyelashes. She clutched a knife in her fist.

Let go! He grabbed her wrist and squeezed it as hard as he could.

The knife clattered to the ground.

She tried to wriggle away. He wrestled her back and forth, trying to pin her to the ground.

Oh, Englishman, please! She burst into tears as she cried out in Arabic. I have no money. I must eat. So I took money from the Germans to find out what you foreigners were up to.

You were spying! He pushed her arm up behind her back to force her to confess more. He was not being hard enough on her. After all, he had picked up more than a few words of both Arabic and Turkish since he had been in the Middle East. He was going to use them to communicate with this mysterious young woman.

She grimaced with pain and nodded. Your friend draws maps. The Germans want to know about them. She confessed, sniffling. You do not understand what a wretched existence I lead. I have no family. I am all by myself. Tears rolled down her cheeks. I earn money any way I can.

Her radiant face shone in the moonlight. Her tears scintillated as she clasped her hands together and begged his forgiveness. Her hood slipped down to reveal masses of thick, curly black hair and a long, swan-like neck as well as a swelling bosom. The Arab girl was the loveliest thing he had ever seen.

I — I did not know. Edward gulped, not sure what to do next.

After all, he felt guilty coming from a much more privileged background. His father, Sir Adolphus, not only owned an auto company specializing in sports cars, Adolphus Motors, he had been knighted and could boast that he was a baronet. Edward would inherit the title someday himself. Instead of living in squalor in the Syrian Desert as a dirt poor Bedouin, he, his father, and his mother lived at an estate in the South of England just outside Salisbury in the New Forest called Ware Hall.

She leaned close to him and blinked away tears. Her ruby red lips opened and brushed against his. He found himself kissing her back.

He heard a green Turkish viper hiss from behind a rock as he picked her up. He paused for a moment, stared at the serpent as it slithered out where he could see it. In a ray of moonlight it looked horribly green. Its beady eyes focused on him with demonic intensity as its forked tongue went in and out of its mouth.

Do not worry about the snake! The girl assured him in Arabic, smoothing her hands against his cheek.

He looked back at her and kissed her again. He carried her back to his tent where he threw her down on his cot, and he climbed on top. She wrapped her arms around him. They made love all night long.

Next morning when he opened his eyes, he found himself lying on the cot totally naked. The sylph-like woman was gone. When he went to put on his clothes, he realized the latest map Lawrence had given him to take to his father’s tent, to pack up and transport back to Ware Hall, was missing.

He looked everywhere in the tent for it. There was no mistaking it.

Had the girl stolen it?

He once again heard the snake’s hiss and imagined that green viper slithering about.

Edward thought, I slept with a spy.

Yet he could not deny that he still yearned for her. Right now his thoughts were filled with her naked body. He could feel her arms and her lips after that hot and heavy performance in bed last night.

She showed up early the next evening when he was all alone and ran to him. He grabbed her and shook her hard.

Where is the stolen map?

Somehow it was mixed up in my clothes when I got home, she pleaded. I was going to bring it back to you, but those who hired me stopped me. They beat me. She pulled her dress off her shoulder, showing off a black-and-blue mark. Then she quickly undid her dress, kicking it away so she stood there naked. She showed off a few welts across her back.

He kissed her shoulders. He turned her around and kissed her bosom. Then he kissed her lips hungrily. It was like no other passion he had ever known, in a boyhood and young manhood of crushes on various young ladies of his social circle back in London and the south of England. This girl’s blood burned hot while theirs had burned ice cold.

Before she left he handed her a wad of British pound notes. He told her, Take this! Then you can buy food. You will not be tempted to steal anything ever again.

Night after night he could not satisfy himself. He plunged into her again and again and ignited his fire anew until he thought he would go crazy with longing. Was she magical or what? When he fell asleep, it was only to dream of making love to her and then wake up in her arms with her lips seeking his.

He did not know her name. He did not know anything about her except that she was a little thief if a very beautiful one. Somehow she was becoming the most important woman he had ever known.

Then one day he found another map missing. It had been lying on his desk while they were making love. When he woke, his lady love and the map were gone. This time it was impossible that it could have gotten mixed up in her clothes.

Why had she stolen the second map when she knew how he felt about it? It could not be to eat. He had given her plenty of money.

He sat stunned, staring at the tent flap she must have used to leave with the purloined map. He could hear her soft words and feel the touch of her fingers against his face. Tears rolled down his cheeks. They tasted bitter indeed.

He had learned a hard lesson. This new war was not just any old conflict. It was rather cruel and nasty.

He hurriedly packed his suitcase and participated in the evacuation of the camp, along with all the finds. Woolley and Lawrence expected the Turks to join the Germans and declare war on Britain and her Allies any time now.

If Edward was going to survive the war, he would have to become much more shrewd indeed.

Chapter 2: May, 1915

Ware Hall in the South of England

The following May Edward lay in bed at Ware Hall with his fiancee.

Miss Dora Benley, an American heiress from Pittsburgh, had come to England with her father and mother. Mr. Benley wanted to make a tire deal with Edward’s father, Sir Adolphus Ware. Edward was making love to Dora upstairs in his bedroom. She was lying on top of lots of pillows, arranged the way she liked to arrange them whenever he was with her.

He was facing the window right beside the bed on the second story. He thought he saw something move outside in the bushes.

Just a minute! He kissed her.

He climbed out of bed naked. He hurried down the private hallway separating the bedroom from his bathroom to take a look. Poking his head out the window, he examined his mother’s hydrangea bush with the copious white blooms. It had grown up around the double-hung window frame. The bush was now several feet thick, shading his bedroom window and making it seem as if it were at the bottom of a green tunnel punctuated by splashes of white.

To the left he heard a sudden movement. Something thrashed about in the leaves. He couldn’t tell if it was a squirrel or a bird.

The hydrangeas had grown up this wall of the stone house, trained on trellises. But he did not think a spy for the Kaiser could climb up a trellis to the second story even if he was fleet of foot and lithe. The flimsy wooden trellis simply would not support his weight.

"You do not know how many acquaintances my mother, father, and I lost when the Lusitania was torpedoed." Dora chatted about the May 7th sinking of the luxury ocean liner from the bed while waiting for Edward to return.

His fiancee and her parents had come ashore in a rowboat at Queenstown, Ireland after the Lusitania had gone down only a few days before. She had been aboard. Naturally she was having a hard time getting over the near death experience.

The clatter of china indicated she was pouring and sipping the hot tea Lucy had brought upstairs late in the afternoon. She sounded as if she were using the silverware to put butter and jelly on a scone. She continued to complain, trying to talk with her mouth full.

Mr. Klein was my best friend aboard. We ate dinner together and danced. It was not anything serious, but it helped to pass the time. And now he will never know I am engaged to you. She sniffled. She blew her nose and sipped more tea with another clatter of porcelain as she put her cup down on the saucer.

"I wish I could get back at the Germans and that horrible saboteur who planted a bomb in the engine room while a U-boat torpedoed our ship. Mr. Klein left my mother and I all his manuscripts to tend to. He was a famous New York playwright, you know. I am sure you have heard of The Lion and the Mouse and Potash and Perlmutter in Society."

Yes, yes, of course! He tried to reply from a distance without paying much attention. Edward ducked down low so nobody outside could see him in the alcove near the bathroom.

He heard thrashing several feet above where he was standing, where the gutter pipe met the roof. He peered upward and could barely make out a tawny human face through the dark green leaves. A chill went down his spine as he remembered that Arab wench in Carchemish who had wrapped him around her little finger and made a fool of him not long ago last summer.

Edward wondered, Is that bitch here now? Did she slither across the roof like a Turkish viper and let herself down from the drainpipe?How did she find out where I live?

Dora called, Edward, did you hear what I said about Rita Jolivet? She was my best friend aboard the ship. Fifteen minutes before I swam to a lifeboat, I saw her get washed away by a big, ugly green wave.

How horrible! Edward exclaimed. He pretended he was listening to the heiress to the Benley Tire and Rubber fortune that his mother and father expected him to marry. It was only fitting that he join his auto fortune to hers.

He could not concentrate on Dora and the moving hydrangea bushes at the same time. He shut the window firmly behind him and closed the drapes. He would have to tend to the intruder as soon as he finished making love to his fiancee.

He finally re-entered the bedroom. All naked, Dora was sitting cross-legged on the bed sipping her tea. She was rather more fleshy than the viper from Carchemish — certainly bigger in the behind.

He eased his fiancee back into the pillows and started to kiss her.

What is wrong? she asked, noticing his distraction at once. Unlike the vamp from Carchemish, Dora paid close attention to his likes and dislikes and his moods.

"Oh nothing! I guess all that stuff about the Lusitania gets me out of the mood." He sighed, pausing in his attempts to make love. What he liked about Dora best was that he could talk to her and level with her about what he was really thinking — with certain notable exceptions, of course. He certainly had not confided in her about the bitch from Carchemish or his relations with her.

I will get you in the mood! She embraced him and kissed him.

He glanced out the window. Something was still moving in the bushes, but she was tempting him. She had gone into London on more than one occasion to shop at Harrods. She had bought expensive perfume and makeup. It was about the only thing he noticed her wearing anymore — that and the Crusader diamond ring he had given her for their engagement. Most of the time they were alone she was stark naked just like right now.

Dealing with an heiress was not like dealing with a slut. He had to accede to her whims every now and then. He climbed back into bed.

Oh, Edward, she continued to chit-chat between his kisses, I would kill all those Germans with my bare hands if I could!

That gave him an idea. Here, take this! He jumped out of bed, went to his dresser, and handed her the Lawrence map originals. Lawrence had given him the maps to hide until he could come to join him in a few weeks. His friend had already enlisted. Lawrence had been about to take them with him when he had been surprised by saboteurs. He had quickly handed them off to his old friend to take care of.

Dora looked surprised.

I cannot watch the maps when I am at drills. Edward finished off his cup of tea. He put it back down on the saucer with a clatter. My father and mother are not here at the moment. They cannot watch them either.

He got along with the heiress better than he would have imagined at first. They had something in common. On the Lusitania on the way to Britain she had suffered at the hands of the saboteurs. She had almost lost her life and understandably wanted revenge. 
His family had possession of the all-important Lawrence maps and had to fight off saboteurs at every turn. She wanted to help him. So why not let her, especially since he had already explained to Dora the basic situation.

Dora nodded as she took the maps. I will keep Lawrence’s secret maps with me wherever I go. I have got to go into Bath to get my dresses fitted. You would be shocked if you knew how many Mother and I lost on the ship. I have got an appointment with the dressmaker.

Bath? That sounded odd to him. Why Bath?

She showed him a business card as she climbed into her petticoat. I have got an excellent recommendation from the saleslady at Harrods. Supposedly the best seamstress in England lives there. I wish I could bring her back to Pittsburgh with me. We could use her for the bridesmaid’s dresses. December is not all that many months off, you know. Dora pinched him on the cheek.

Though they were supposed to be married at Christmas, Edward did not have time for all the wedding details now. He got dressed in his lieutenant’s uniform, kissed her good-bye, and headed out to the garden to investigate the spy in the hydrangea bush.

He did not notice anymore intruders climbing around the window. Dora waved at him and headed up the drive. She was borrowing his red Speedster to go into Bath. He hurried down the pathway deeper into the wild English garden on the heath.

Up ahead near the carp pond that his mother kept, he detected movement in the bushes. He took out the Webley revolver that had been issued to him at drills.

Who goes there? he demanded, pointing the pistol straight at the bush.

No answer.

He did not want to fire the gun. He might alarm the house servants. Also he had to leave to get to drills. He was going to be late.

He picked up a rock and hurled it at the bush right where he had detected the movement.

Still no answer.

Up ahead the movement in the bushes continued into the rose garden where the tea pavilion was located. He raced ahead, arming himself with stones to throw. Somehow the movement was always ahead of him. He was beginning to get the idea he was being lured into a trap.

He stopped and aimed his sidearm. He could not worry about the house servants now. Besides, he was far enough away from the house that they might not hear.

Stop, I tell you. Or I will fire! he warned.

When he received no response he opened fire. At that moment several thugs leaped out at him. He fired at one and then the next before starting to run. He leaped over a fallen log. Then he jumped over a boulder. He took advantage of knowing the garden better than any intruder possibly could. He darted down a narrow garden path paved with flagstones where wild pigs from the heath were feasting on acorns beneath ancient oak trees that had been thoroughly pollarded over the generations.

A vandal leaped out and tackled him, bringing him to the ground. His sidearm went sailing through the air. Others among the group of thugs caught up with him. While two held him down, the others stripped his clothes off until he was lying there naked. They were going through every pocket, every fold of cloth. They even examined his shoes.

It was a good thing he had just handed the Lawrence maps over to Dora. They would be gone by now if he had not.

Where are the Lawrence maps? asked that low, sultry voice that he had not heard since Carchemish last summer in 1914.

The dark-eyed beauty stepped out from behind an oak. She was dressed in a full-length abaya covering most of her body. Her eyes glowed.

What are you doing here? Edward was appalled. He had feared as much. He was right.

Just hand over the maps, and they will let you go. She held out her hand.

I do not have them with me. Isn’t it obvious? He referred to his naked state.

Then you must tell me where you hid them. She drew closer. She nodded at the thugs. They let go of Edward and withdrew. The German youths disappeared among the trees.

Edward leaped up and began to dress himself, though many of his clothes were slashed. He felt at a disadvantage being naked especially around the vamp.

She came right up to him and unzipped his trousers.

He could not imagine what she was doing until in one motion she both knelt and got her mouth around his privates.

He shoved her away. You monster! She was trying to take advantage of her sensual powers over him.

If you do not cooperate, she threatened him. I will send the thugs after your fiancee who just departed the estate in your car. She pointed in the very direction Dora had vanished a moment ago to show she had been paying close attention and had not missed a thing.

Dora was now the one with the Lawrence maps. He had to think fast, to think on his feet. He allowed his trousers to remain unbuttoned despite his embarrassment with the other men hiding nearby among the trees. When she got her mouth around his balls again and started to press him for information about the maps, he forced himself to keep his thoughts clear and lucid. It was much easier because he had just had sex with Dora all afternoon and was drained.

But the viper was persistent. She began to evoke a predictable reaction from him.

He forced his arm around her waist, picked her up kicking and screaming, and got his hand around the gun hidden in the folds of her abaya, as he thought it would be. Then he pressed it against her forehead.

Call off your thugs! He ordered her through his clenched teeth.

You would not shoot me, surely you would not! Her tone of voice changed to the maudlin and tearful. Not after what we had together.

We did not have anything except sex, he said. It was not anything more than that. I could have paid for it and gotten the same thing from a prostitute.

He knew enough Arabic to tell that she was calling off the thugs, who then fled from the gardens back onto the heath.

I thought I had died and gone to Paradise when I was in bed with you last year, the woman exclaimed. "But today you were having sex with that other woman who just left here. I ought to know. I could not see you, but I could hear you through the window. Some rich bitch heiress from Pittsburgh who has more money than she knows what to do with, so she gets in trouble by coming here."

Edward’s hair stood up on end at the kind of creature he was dealing with. She had been the one in the hydrangea bushes all right just as he had suspected! He shoved her to the ground and kept the barrel of the gun pointed at her. You get out of here, or I will kill you.

She smiled as she stood up and defied him. In fact, she advanced closer to him.

Get back! he warned as he retreated a few steps.

She reached out her hand with a laugh and took the gun from him. She stuffed it back into her abaya and pointed at the garden house nearby. As she shut the door behind them, she disrobed.

About twenty minutes later he sat there spent, sweaty, and ashamed as he climbed back into his clothes.

You gave my operatives a head start finding your fiancee! She kissed his nose and stood up. She put her abaya back on, covering her nakedness.

Appalled he shoved her aside as he kicked open the door to the garden house. He heard her laughter mocking him as he ran for his room to quickly change his uniform for a more presentable one. Then he dashed for his parents’ spare car.

He had to get to Bath and fast.

Chapter 3: May 1915

Bath, England

Edward sped through the New Forest on his way to Bath. Bright yellow eyes peeped at him through the leaves on the gorse bushes that brushed the sides of the car as he zoomed past. He looked from side to side and dared not slow down even as he came to narrow tunnels created by redwood and alderwood trees joining branches over the byway.

Suddenly a wild pony darted out from a patch of blooming purple heather. Edward slammed on the brakes and skidded around the creature, making a huge dust cloud behind him. He never came to a full stop. The pony might be a diversion deliberately created to make him halt. Then spies could spring on him and search for those Lawrence maps again.

Ahead a log lay in the middle of the road. He figured it was a trap. He veered off into the rolling fields by the side of the country lane. He bumped over hills and down into swales, up over ridges and around neolithic burial mounds that dotted the landscape in the New Forest.

He was glad he did. Behind him a man — waiting to leap on him if he stopped! — fell out of a redwood tree next to the log. A wild pony grazing nearby fled. The horse splashed through a pond by the side of the road and kept galloping until it disappeared into the thick shrubbery.

He at last arrived in the eighteenth-century town of Bath. None too soon, he figured, as he zoomed across the River Avon and passed the Cricket Fields on North Parade Road. Dora had said she was having her dresses from Harrods fitted by a lady reputedly expert at alterations. His fiancée claimed that someone at Harrods had given her a recommendation and a business card, which now seemed all the more suspicious. The nameless saleslady could easily have been an enemy agent.

Edward did not know where to go next. He could not remember the address on the business card that Dora had flashed in his face. Unfortunately he had not bothered to pay attention.

A sign indicated he was passing the Parade Gardens. He pulled up alongside the road and went to find someone to ask. He located a gardener mowing grass.

Excuse me, but could you tell me where I could find a dressmaker? I mean, a lady who takes in sewing and performs alterations?

Edward was the wrong sex to be asking such a question. Considering the formality of his dress — he was wearing his drills uniform — the man looked at him as if he had just landed on earth from the planet Mars.

Mrs. Church used to take in sewing. She lived down the street from us. But she got a job in the munitions factory instead when the war started, the man explained. Her husband is off in the trenches, with the Territorials. A young man in uniform like yourself should not be surprised, I would assume.

The man wiped his sweaty brow and looked Edward up and down, as if he would like an explanation what he was doing