the man.

The door handle rattled as someone outside took hold of it and began to turn it. He heard a muffled voice — two, a man’s and a woman’s. Hauser shuddered anxiously as he recognised the man’s voice as unmistakably Hitler’s. He heard both voices talking in lowered, soft tones, an exchange of pleasantries between two people, intimate. The muffled exchange ended and the door to the study opened.

Hauser immediately stood to attention, heart pounding like a piston engine in his chest. He brought his heels together in his best rendition of the formal military greeting. ‘H-Heil Hitler.’

Hitler held his palm out beside his head, returning the salute tiredly. ‘Yes… yes. Please sit down.’

Hauser did as the Fuhrer asked. He sat down promptly while carefully studying Hitler as he settled himself in the leather chair behind his desk. He was wearing a white shirt and a black tie with his initials in gold discreetly stitched onto the tongue. His top button was undone and the tie had been loosened a little. Over the shirt he wore a beige, woollen cardigan with leather patches on its elbows. Hitler poured himself a glass of water from a decanter on the desk, his left hand trembling enough that a few spots of water splashed onto the desk.

Hauser was disturbed to see how tired and beaten he looked. The Fuhrer looked nothing like the proud figure standing tall in the news pictures; it was a feeble old man that sat before him.

‘Dr Karl Hauser, Albert Speer has been briefing me on your work. I have been following your progress.’ He leaned forward, his hands gathered together under his chin. ‘You must understand, time is the most important thing for us now. The Russians are very close and our men have orders to hold out till the last. This buys us a little respite, perhaps we have only two or three weeks before they reach the centre of Berlin.’

Hitler closed his eyes and his lips seemed to tremble ever so slightly as he prepared himself to ask the next question. ‘Is the project on schedule?’

Hauser could see the anxiety in the Fuhrer’s face. Time, of course, was everything now, the only currency worth anything. ‘The raw materials we needed have been produced, and the bomb is being assembled now. Nine, perhaps ten, more days, my Fuhrer. It is exactly on schedule.’

The transformation was almost instantaneous. Hauser watched as Hitler suddenly beamed with joy and slapped his thigh merrily. ‘Wonderful! Marvellous!’ Hitler sat back in his chair, exhaling with obvious relief. ‘Good… good. I knew that God would grant us time to salvage this war.’ Hitler paused, reflecting for a moment. ‘It saddens me that Speer has deserted us, now that victory is so close at hand.’

Hauser shuffled uncomfortably in his chair. No mention of Speer’s concerns about the design of the weapon. Thank God.

Hauser had wondered whether, if the issue were raised, he should lie to Hitler or be truthful. After all, it was only a calculated risk, and not a certainty.

Hitler took a sip of his water and studied Hauser with small eyes that glistened with moisture. ‘So tell me all about this weapon you have nearly finished building. Tell me first… how much destruction can we expect from it?’

Hauser smiled. He will be pleased with this.

‘It is a small bomb, the size of only a ten-gallon petrol drum, but with it we can destroy an entire city, certainly dozens of square miles of complete annihilation.’

Hitler sat forward and clasped his hands together under his chin again, his index fingers forming a steeple beneath his nose. ‘A whole city?’

For a moment Hauser wondered whether he should come out right now with the truth. A whole city was a conservative estimate. Even if the runaway chain, the infinite chain that Schenkelmann had panicked about so much, didn’t occur, the destruction would be phenomenal.

‘Yes, that’s correct, a whole city, sir.’

Hitler shook his head and smiled, ‘More destruction than a skyful of these Allied bombers. That is truly amazing. We will terrify them, and the Russians, with the incredible power of this weapon of yours.’

Hitler’s smile quickly faded and his eyes narrowed as he addressed him. ‘Dr Hauser, you have done an incredible thing. You alone have done more for Germany, more for me… than whole armies of men. It seems only your weapon alone can save Germany now. For that reason, I personally am indebted to you.’

Hauser felt a surge of pride that flushed his face with its intensity. ‘I am honoured, my Fuhrer, truly honoured by your generous words.’

Hitler shook his head. ‘Lately, you know I have been let down by so many men,’ he confided. ‘Men who had promised me so much and delivered to me so little, and yet, Dr Hauser… may I call you Karl?’ Hauser nodded eagerly. ‘And yet you, Karl, in my most desperate hour, you have given me the victory that a room full of generals has failed to.’ Hitler leaned forward over the desk and patted Hauser’s shoulder in a paternal manner.

The Fuhrer’s gentle touch affected him profoundly. He fought ferociously to keep his voice steady, ‘I am so proud to have been able to help you in this way, my Fuhrer.’

‘So,… then, perhaps you are a little curious as to where, when and against whom the weapon will be used, hmmm?’

‘I’m afraid I have no idea.’

‘Indulge me, guess.’

‘Russia, sir?’

Hitler shook his head and smiled. ‘America. New York, to be precise.’

Hauser’s expression caused Hitler to chuckle amicably.

‘Yes. What a symbolic place to demonstrate your bomb, isn’t it? Its tall, powerful buildings, that Statue of Liberty… all reduced to ashes by a country thousands of miles away.’

‘A country they have assumed is already beaten,’ added Hauser.

‘Indeed.’

‘But why not Russia, sir? They’re the ones who are all but above us now.’

Hitler reached out his right hand and rested it lightly on Hauser’s arm. The other hand, Hauser noticed, was tucked out of sight beneath the desk. ‘Their capacity to endure destruction and death is so much greater than the Americans. Losing a city wouldn’t stop Stalin now, losing a dozen wouldn’t. But New York?’ Hitler winked at him. His eyes that only a few moments ago had looked moist with fatigue and despair now sparkled with an almost benign mischief. ‘The Americans are already seeing the Russians as a threat. Imagine how terrified they will be at the thought of them getting their hands on your technology, Karl? Especially after this demonstration of ours. They will have no choice, no choice at all, my friend… ’

Hauser studied his face. Hitler was waiting for him to complete the sentence, to understand the implication.

‘So… America, will have no choice but to declare war on Russia?’ he uttered in a voice little more than a conspiratorial whisper.

Hitler nodded approvingly, as a mentor would to a student. ‘They would have to push the Russians back, out of our country, to be sure of this?’ added Hauser.

He squeezed Hauser’s arm gently. ‘Yes.’

‘But why not just explode the bomb somewhere closer, my Fuhrer. Like London, or maybe outside Berlin, where the Russian army is concentrated?’

‘American presidents are weak, Karl. They rely on the will of their voters. The people over there need to be as frightened by this technology as their leader… after New York has vanished, the President will have no choice but to push his soldiers forward from the west into Berlin to fight the Russians. It will be an easy decision for him to make. We will have forced it to be the only decision he can make.’

Hauser managed to look up again at the Fuhrer’s face, to meet those intense eyes. The relief was conspicuous. His demeanour was that of a man who had escaped the hangman’s noose by an inch, or a second. He looked years younger, magnificent, almost the man who had led them to war in 1939.

‘This is a brilliant plan, sir,’ he managed to say.

‘It is a little regrettable that our first bomb will have to be dropped on the nation that should have been our ally from the very beginning. There are many people in that country who would welcome us as friends. It is a shame.’

Hitler reached into a desk drawer and pulled out a bottle of brandy.

‘I put this aside earlier today, for this little meeting. I’m not a big drinker, Karl, but I would like us to toast your genius. Dr Hauser, you are a German who has beaten the Jewish technicians in America at their own

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