Renee peered round the wide garage door next to her.
The interior of the enormous boat-house was clear—in particular, the wide section of floor between the glass offices to her right and the mooring slots on her left.
Nothing stirred. There wasn't a soul in sight.
She nodded to Race.
Ready?
Race acknowledged her signal by gripping his Glock a little more tightly.
Ready.
Then without a word Renee quickly ducked around the doorway, her G-11 held high, pressed against her shoulder.
Race made to follow her, but as he did so, another door behind him suddenly burst open and he dropped to the ground in an instant, taking cover behind an old oil barrel.
A young Nazi technician dressed in a white lab coat and holding a radio awkwardly in his hand—rushed out through the newly opened door and hurried off down the path toward the refuse pit.
Race's eyes went wide.
He was going to the refuse pit—where he would find one dead Nazi and nothing else.
'Shit,' Race said. 'Uli…'
Decision time. He could go after the technician—and then do what? Kill him in cold blood? Despite all that he had done so far, Race wasn't sure if he could actually do that, kill a man. On the other hand, he could warn Uli. Yes, that was better—much better.
And so at that moment, instead of following Renee into the boat-house, Race headed off down the side of the big warehouse-like building, in the direction of the crater and Uli.
Uli came to the northern cable bridge.
It stretched away from him into the distance, swooping fearlessly over the vertiginous seven-hundred-foot drop, its steel-threaded handrails converging like a pair of railroad tracks disappearing into the distance, ending as tiny specks at the doorway to the control booth four hundred yards away.
'Unterscharfuhrer,' a voice said suddenly from behind him.
Uli spun.
And found himself standing before Heinrich Anistaze himself.
'What are you doing?' Anistaze demanded.
'I was going to see if the Oberstgruppenfuhrer and Doc tor Weber required any assistance over in the control booth,'
Uli answered, perhaps a little too quickly.
'Have you eliminated the two prisoners?'
'Yes, sir, I have.'
'Where is Dieter?' Anistaze asked.
'He, uh, had to go to the WE,' Uli lied.
At that exact same moment, the lab technician Anistaze had sent to the refuse pit arrived there.
He saw Dieter's body immediately, lying face-down in the mud, blood and brains seeping out from the hole in the back of its head.
No Americans. No Uli, either.
The lab technician lifted his radio to his lips.
“Herr Oberstgruppenfuhrer,” the technician's voice came in over Anistaze's earpiece.
'Yes.'
Anistaze was still standing with Uli at the edge of the northern cable bridge. The four fingers of the Nazi commander's left hand tapped silently on his pants leg as he listened to the voice on his earpiece.
'Dieter is dead, sir. I repeat, Dieter is dead. I can't see the prisoners or Unterscharfuhrer Kahr anywhere.'
'Thank you,' Anistaze said, staring at Uli. 'Thank you very much.'
Anistaze's cold black eyes bored into Uli's. 'Where are the prisoners, Unterscharfuhrer?'
'I beg your pardon, Herr Oberstgruppenfuhrer?'
“I said, where are the prisoners?”
It was then that Uli saw the Glock appear in Anistaze's right hand.
Renee moved silently through the boat-house, gun up.
Race hadn't come in behind her, and she wondered what had happened to him. But she couldn't wait, she still had a job to do.
The boat-house was silent, still. The conveyor belt that rose up out of the tunnel to her right sat motionless.
