New Supplement Added to Unlocking Trinity:
In Unlocking Trinity, the last volume in the Edward Ware Thrillers, the Ware’s little girl has been kidnapped by Hitler and forced to live with him at the Berghof. But when Hitler commits suicide in his Berlin Bunker on April 30, 1945, what happens to the child who has been indoctrinated as a Nazi, who has forgotten that English is her native language?
Her biological father, General Lord Edward Ware, must defy Eisenhower’s order to leave Berlin to the Russians. He must get to her before Stalin’s henchwoman does. It becomes a race to Trinity in the wilds of New Mexico in the birth trauma of the Cold War.
A supplement called Ice Palace has been added to reveal what Edward did in retirement after World War 2. General Lord Edward Ware at the end of World War 2 retired from His Majesty’s Armed Forces with the title of Lord of Ruweisat Ridge and an appointment to the House of Lords. He helped the British win the Battle of El Alamein in 1942. Therefore he has been appointed to a hereditary position in the House of Lords. When he is no longer meeting with Churchill to plan battles, Lord Edward Ware’s life is now consumed with social events and flashy ceremonial responsibilities. For one thing he has managed to have the title of Black Rod of the House of Lords forced upon him by his peers.
He gets involved in a plot in Alaska where he hears that the Russians are maneuvering, the new enemies at the beginning of the Cold War. He gets sent there by Churchill, Prime Minister again in the 1950’s. And he meets an old enemy that he thought was dead.
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Russian Blackmail at the Ice Palace:
Edward realized in the short time it had taken to finish the ride showing off all the prisons in the Ice Palace, it took just the same amount of time to resort to deviltry. But then, what else would you expect of Helga von Wessel?
Edward turned to his wife to head back to their apartments in the Ice Palace. “Dora?” he said. He looked from side to side. She was nowhere to be found.
“It is easy to get lost in the Ice Palace,” Helga purred cynically. “All you have to do is take one wrong turn —- and you are gone, perhaps for good. We are connected to the great, vast wilderness here. Doors open to the outside at every turn. I do hope Dora has not been caught in a snowstorm.” She laughed.
Edward lunged for her. He took her slim, white, swan’s neck in his hands and backed her up against the wall. He had not touched that vile flesh in years. He made him cringe even now and brought back a flood of unwanted memories from the past and even the long past when he had been her lover. In a flash he recalled lying with her in a field near the gates of the Syrian town of Petra during the Great War. It was on the other side of the world from where he now found himself. And at this distance in time it seemed like a dark fantasy and not very real.
“Touch me,” Helga threatened with a glimmering smile on her face, “and you will risk never seeing your wife again.”
“You have kidnapped her once again, haven’t you?” Edward accused the witch who had often made off with his wife in times past in locales as different as Santa Fe, New Mexico and Southampton, England. She always wanted something, and she wanted it bad.
Helga chortled as he fingered he neck.
“What do you want this time?” he demanded.
“I was wondering when you would ever get around to asking something practical like that!” she eyed him knowingly.
“Answer me!” He shook her hard.
“Churchill and Eisenhower no doubt have certain documents that they share about Kruschev, certain spy documents. I want to see them,” she asserted.
“I don’t have access to such papers. I am no longer a spy. I am retired from the army and have taken up a position as the black rod of the House of Lords,” he confessed the truth.
She smirked. “But your friendship with Churchill goes back a long, long way. I think he will know where to find them and he might sympathize with your plight. At least I do hope so.”
“You bitch!” he exclaimed.
“Also I have heard that since your retirement you still meet with Lawrence in secret. He is still busy drawing maps to defend and attack against the Russians if they should ever decide to attack the west. I want those papers, too,” Helga insisted.
Helga was eternally dangerous and eternally the same like the far side of the moon. He could see why the Cold War with the Russians was really cold.
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Edward Roving Through Alaska:
As part of his new mission for Churchill in the mid 1950’s General Lord Edward Ware takes leave of his job as the black rod in the House of Lords. He and Dora, Lady Ware, board the Queen Mary to sail to New York. They are vague with friends and associates about what they are doing and where they intend to go. They don’t even confide in Dora’s parents in Pittsburgh. They have a long overland journey by train to the West Coast. There they make their way to Vancouver and sail to Alaska.
Edward finds himself on shore in the tiny town of Ketchikan in the days when Alaska was still a territory. In the days before statehood the prostitutes still walk the docks and cast him a leer now and then. It reminds him of days past when Helga von Wessel used to haunt his life, which has not happened in ten years.
One of these coastal cities along the Inside Passage seems to be the center of activity that he needs to investigate. Messages have been intercepted going back and forth to Russia and the new leader, Kruschev. He must find out where they are coming from.
He ends up in Juneau, the capital of Alaska. It is just another port of call on the ship. He heads for the Mendenhall Glacier. He and Dora are out in a small boat near the glacier. The glacier starts to calve. Ice plummets into the water and creates waves.
Their boat turns to head back to shore. Dora stops it and points at a skiff being washed towards them. Edward catches hold of a message tube. He pulls it out and reads it:
It has been a long time, Edward. We need to talk. H.
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Edward Ware’s Retirement In The House Of Lords:
General Lord Edward Ware at the end of World War 2 retired from His Majesty’s Armed Forces with the title of Lord of Ruweisat Ridge and an appointment to the House of Lords. He helped the British win the Battle of El Alamein in 1942. Therefore he has been appointed to a hereditary position in the House of Lords. When he is no longer meeting with Churchill to plan battles, Lord Edward Ware’s life is now consumed with social events and flashy ceremonial responsibilities. For one thing he has managed to have the title of Black Rod of the House of Lords forced upon him by his peers.
It is now his responsibility to be the monarch’s representative in the House of Lords. He summons the members of the House of Commons to Lords to hear the monarch’s speech. He is also the usher to the Order of the Garter. He organizes addresses to Parliament of visiting heads of state. He also organizes the state opening of Parliament and helps to run the House of Lords on an every day basis.
After a long career of spying, intrigue, and fighting battles, Edward’s life has run into a boring dead end. His wife, Dora, Lady Ware, tries to console him and find things for him to do in her father’s auto and tire business. But Edward is totally out of his element when they run into alarming news.
Churchill, in his second career as PM, summons Edward to his office. He shares with him a security report that has just come in from joint exercises that Americans and Brits are doing in the Bering Strait off the coast of Alaska. A boat was observed with bright lights and fizzling sparklers going off. When it saw the British and Americans it fled. They tried to follow it. They lost it.
“Russians?” Edward asked.
Churchill shrugged. “Anything is possible. But since you and your wife have never recovered your daughter from the Russians, I thought the assignment of researching it was up your alley.”
Edward is catapulted into the Far North. He finds situations beyond the human imagination that his better sense would say were impossible. People that he thought were dead suddenly appear again or seem to appear to meld with legends. But what are they doing? Carrying out the will of the mysterious, dark Russians who seem to be plotting to take over the world the way the Nazis were? Or is it something far worse?
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Churchill with cigar