‘With this bomb, gentlemen… with this one bomb, we will destroy the beating heart of America, New York. With one bomb and in one instant, we will turn that entire city and everyone in it to ashes.’
Rall sought out Max amongst the assembled pilots. If there was one man amongst them whom he could possibly get through to in the few seconds that he might have, it was Oberleutnant Kleinmann. There was little chance that this mission could be stopped here and now, he knew that. But if he could present to Max the potential danger, and let the man come to his own conclusion — after all, he had twenty hours in the air in which to think about it — then perhaps this mission could be aborted before it was too late.
He scanned the faces turned towards Hauser, and amongst them he saw Max’s eyes locked on to his. The Oberleutnant was studying him intently, curiously.
‘We will turn all of New York into Stalingrad with this new weapon. And the Americans will have no choice but to submit to the Fuhrer’s terms and join us in the crusade against communism. The Russians will be turned away from Berlin, Germany will survive. And we will make many more of these bombs to ensure our supremacy continues — ’
Does Kleinmann sense there’s something wrong?
‘- and our empire will once more be reclaimed. This weapon is our future, it is our destiny. It is how we will fight wars from now on. Not with tanks or men, but with this all-consuming power. With it we will turn any nation that stands in our way… to ashes.’
Rall watched Max frown and shake his head unhappily, and then the pilot glanced back at the Major. There was no mistaking the expression on his face — betrayal.
This weapon is far more powerful than you said. Rall read that accusation in the pilot’s eyes.
‘And more dangerous than you can imagine,’ the Major muttered under his breath. He decided he had to try and talk to Max. By the look of him, it seemed he was already troubled by Hauser’s foolish speech. Just a few well- chosen words might be enough to convince the pilot to abort the mission somehow.
Rall began to step through the gathered men towards Max, when Hauser turned sharply towards him. ‘Major Rall, are you ready to issue orders?’
He wondered whether he had a chance to tell them all what he knew. What could he say before Hauser ordered his guards to gun him down? They would do it, of course, without a second’s hesitation.
‘Major Rall? Time is pressing,’ added Hauser, staring threateningly at the Major.
A single command from this madman — that’s all it would take.
‘Major?’
‘To your planes, men,’ Rall ordered flatly.
Schroder’s men cheered and turned on their heels towards the Me-109s lined up nearby. Schroder approached Rall and saluted him. ‘We will ensure they make it safely across, Herr Major.’
Rall nodded and mumbled weakly, ‘Good luck, Schroder. ’
He watched the young pilot join his squadron, climbing up onto the nearest fighter with athletic ease. And then the Major’s attention turned towards the four men left standing before him, Max and his crew.
Max approached the Major and extended a hand towards him. ‘Major?’ he offered uncertainly.
Rall grasped the pilot’s hand and looked up, met his eyes.
Now, man, now! This is your only chance!
‘The bomb is dangerous, Max,’ he muttered quickly under his breath.
‘Sir?’
‘Listen! There is a very real poss — ’
The engines fired up on the nearest Me-109 and it swiftly began to roll across the grass and tarmac towards the strip. Other engines followed suit and a convoy of fighters began their nose-to-tail procession towards the top of the runway.
Hauser stepped promptly forward to stand beside Rall and presented a sealed envelope to Max. Rall cursed under his breath, the time for whispering was gone.
‘Oberleutnant Kleinmann, in this envelope is the arming code for the bomb. It is for your eyes only,’ Hauser shouted, competing with the noise of a dozen engines.
Max nodded without a word and took the envelope. He turned back to Rall and saluted him.
‘Good luck, Kleinmann,’ added Hauser.
Max lingered a moment longer studying the Major’s face one final time, but Rall looked down at the ground. He looked beaten, defeated.
Max nodded politely towards Hauser, and then turned on his heels to face his crew.
‘Let’s go, lads.’
Hauser and Rall watched the four men scramble up through the belly hatch into the bomber and moments later he caught sight of Max through the plexiglas cockpit windows strapping himself into the pilot’s seat. The engines on the bomber spluttered and roared to life one after the other, like four sleeping lions roused from their slumber. Moments later, the chocks were removed, and the plane began to roll across the grass towards the strip just as the first of the 109s was taking to the air. In quick succession, the entire squadron took to the air in pairs, making use of the runway’s full width, and as each pair reached halfway down the strip, the next pair thundered down the runway after them.
They watched as the B-17 waited her turn for the runway to clear of the last of the fighters, then, finally, the way was clear. The pitch of her engines rose and the large plane began to roll down the tarmac picking up speed as she went.
As the bomber parted from the ground, and her undercarriage swung upwards into the wings, Hauser turned to Rall and shook his head.
‘That was very stupid, Major. Really very stupid.’
Rall knew there was no point denying what he had tried to do. The Doctor must have heard him, must even have anticipated some last moment of foolishness. As the sound of the planes receded into the early morning sky, Hauser turned away from Rall and headed towards the truck he had arrived on the previous day. Rall continued to face down the runway, in the direction the planes had departed, standing stiffly and ready for what he knew was coming.
He heard the sound of Hauser’s Leibstandarte guards scrambling aboard the truck, the cough and rattle of the vehicle’s diesel engine as it started up and a few moments later, the crunch of boots across the shattered and pitted concrete of the ground — coming towards him.
Rall took his cap off and tugged at his Luftwaffe tunic, tidying out the creases, pulling it taut across his chest. He stared resolutely out to the west, a final and futile gesture of defiance. He wasn’t going to offer that insane bastard a final anxious glance over his shoulder. If it was coming, then it was coming. The only fear he felt now was not for himself… but that he might have done too little to stop this madness from going any further.
Rall took a deep breath, and closed his eyes.
In the end all war is madness… Who once said that?
Rall’s mind never retrieved the answer.
Chapter 33
From the comfort of the van he watched the photographer coming out of Lenny’s. The night lights down this street, which he presumed was the main street for this shitty little seaside town, were poorly maintained, and his driver had easily found a suitable place to park in a pool of dark where one light had failed.
He watched the man walk slowly down the main drag, and then checked his watch.
They should be done by now.
His men had called in to say that there was only a bunch of grainy photographs and the negatives to be found, and asked what should be done.
He had ordered them to take the prints, destroy any equipment and then trash the room. There was a chance this guy might be dumb enough to think he’d just been turned over by some junkie. It was always worth a shot. Not
