‘I’d probably have been worse,’ Jack said. ‘I’m not used to being in tombs ful of corpses, like you.’
‘It was the interior of that refrigerator safe, visible because the door was open. Everything else in the bunker was covered in that yel ow-green layer, the decomposition product. But the interior of the safe was gleaming. Gleaming. I should have realized that meant it had only just been opened.’
‘Were Jones and Auxel e in there by themselves?’
‘For a few minutes before Jones col apsed and Auxel e cal ed us in to help.’
‘Okay. We need to have Auxel e detained. We need to get our contact in MI6 on to it and have him interrogated. And I don’t care how high-up he is in Brussels. We need to take him down now.’
‘Brussels won’t be happy with that. A secretive NATO team, mainly British, arresting a top EU
inspector? And there’s another problem. The story would be impossible to contain, and it would blow this place wide open to police and journalists, exactly what Major Penn and his team are under the strictest instructions to avoid. Everything about this bunker needs to be kept top secret.’
‘Then I’l find Auxel e and do it myself.’
Hiebermeyer eyed Jack shrewdly. ‘I think we should bring Major Penn in and tel him everything we know, the stuff MI6 may have kept from him about Saumerre and the whole backstory. I mean everything. He has a ful special-forces security team surrounding this place, and exerts more authority than his rank suggests. Top secret operations like this to find and contain Nazi scientific sites have been going on since the end of the Second World War and are given al necessary resources by the former Al ies, one area where the EU does not hold sway. It’s why MI6 are overseeing
the
operation.
Just
a
hint
of
bacteriological contamination and Penn can lock down a site for miles around. He’s a pretty useful man for us to have on board.’
Jack stood up and paced across the grass, took a few deep breaths and looked around. Maurice was right. He needed to keep his cool, not to let his blood rise, to play the game careful y. He turned back. ‘One question’s nagging me. If Auxel e did take what was in that refrigerator, then what happened to the pal adion? You said the door to the laboratory was already ajar when Penn’s men arrived there, and that the impression of the pal adion in the straw in that crate was covered with the decomposition layer.
Everything points to it being removed from the bunker in 1945. It must have been used to open the laboratory door some time before Mayne and Stein arrived, maybe somehow during the fight with the SS
man. If it was the SS man who opened the door, then the pal adion should have been found near his body.
Yet there was nothing. Everything points to an accomplice, one who survived, though that stil doesn’t explain why the accomplice would have left without removing the contents of the refrigerator.’
Hiebermeyer nodded. ‘Penn has a theory about that.
We
had
two
hours
together
in
the
decontamination room and mul ed it over. He’d been headhunted by MI6 at university and had actual y done several courses at GCHQ Cheltenham before opting out and joining the army instead. One of the courses was on “need to know”, how to keep a network going while minimizing the number of people who are in on the whole picture. Like you he thought we might be looking at two operatives, but he took it further. Let’s imagine that one of them knew about the pal adion and was also tasked to retrieve the phial in the refrigerator, the most secret and important part of the whole conspiracy. The person entrusted with that task, to take the deadly weapon to its next destination, had to be a particularly fanatical fol ower of the conspiracy originator, perhaps unique. If he was somehow unable to perform the task, then the fal back might be for the originator himself to try to retrieve it. But for that to happen, the originator had to have the pal adion to open the chamber door. So the second man in the bunker knew nothing of the refrigerator but had been tasked to retrieve the pal adion if something happened to the first man before he was able to get inside.’
‘So the first man is about to perform his task as Mayne and Stein arrive,’ Jack said slowly. ‘He dies in the ensuing struggle, kil ing Mayne and Stein in the process. But perhaps just as he is about to kil Mayne, pressing him against that door, he uses the pal adion to open it, intending to leave Mayne and Stein’s bodies inside and lock the door behind him, concealing what had happened and keeping any other Al ied troops who might enter the bunker away from the truth of that inner chamber for as long as possible. But Mayne kil s the SS man with his knife as he himself is shot, and they both fal into the room together. The accomplice comes upon the scene and his only thought is his own specific task, to retrieve the pal adion and take it to his master.’
‘And my friend’s discovery under the site of the flak tower in Berlin suggests that the pal adion may have had more uses than opening this one door,’
Hiebermeyer said. ‘The forensics lady was in the decontamination room with us after she’d returned from sampling those corpses. She suggested that you could combine the flu virus with a bacteriological agent to make it particularly deadly, adding something that would weaken the immune system to ensure that the virus was always fatal. Maybe this bunker wasn’t the only laboratory. Maybe there was another one, perhaps in Berlin.’
Jack pursed his lips. As he turned, he saw an army officer in a camouflage smock and beret approaching them rapidly from the Portakabin, fol owed close behind by a soldier. The officer wore a sidearm, and the soldier was carrying a rifle and swivel ing round every few steps to survey their surroundings, talking into a headset. The soldier stood off to one side while the officer came up to them, his face grim. ‘Major David Penn, Royal Engineers. You’re Jack Howard. I recognize you from TV.’ He shook hands quickly and turned to Hiebermeyer. ‘I have some very bad news.’
Hiebermeyer stood up. ‘Yes?’
‘Sergeant Jones died ten minutes ago. He never regained consciousness.’
Hiebermeyer looked stunned. ‘ Mein Gott,’ he whispered. ‘Dead? How?’
Penn gazed down for a moment, then looked up and cleared his throat. ‘The team medics inspected his suit and his body. They found a tiny puncture in the upper right arm of his suit and a matching puncture in his skin. The puncture was from a syringe. Sergeant Jones didn’t die of natural causes. He was murdered.’
Hiebermeyer lurched backwards and sat down heavily. Jack had a sudden cold feeling in the pit of his stomach. Where was Auxelle? The soldier with the rifle walked quickly over and whispered into Penn’s ear, and after a few questions Penn turned back to them, undoing the flap of his holster and looking around. ‘I know what you’re going to ask.
Auxel e left as soon as we exited the bunker. Urgent EU business back in Brussels. As soon as we spotted the puncture marks on Jones’ arm, I sent a Humvee from our outer roadblock racing after him. My soldier has just given me an update. They found the EU limousine by the side of the road five kilometres away, about the spot where my soldiers at the checkpoint had heard the sound of a helicopter landing and taking off. Auxel e was nowhere to be seen, but the driver of the limousine was stil there.
He’d been shot at close range in the back of the neck.’
Jack shut his eyes for a moment. So it begins. ‘In that laboratory in the bunker,’ he said. ‘You’re sure that refrigerator safe was open when you first saw it after going in to help Jones?’
‘Wide open and empty,’ Penn replied grimly. ‘I assumed that whatever had been inside was removed in those final days in 1945. But now I think those two Al ied officers, Mayne and the American, actual y stopped that happening. For more than seventy years, their actions prevented the world from being exposed to a weapon too awful to contemplate.
But it looks as if I failed them today.�
��
‘Nobody has failed them,’ Jack said. ‘There’s an evil mastermind behind this. We had a run-in with him last year, and his existence has been plaguing me for six months. You could never have predicted what has happened.’
‘We’re finished here now,’ Penn said, putting a hand on his holster and pursing his lips. ‘From the forensic data on those exhumed bodies, we know there was a lethal biological agent contained in that laboratory, and that the corpses we saw on those gurneys had been the victims of experimentation. That means the agent might be present elsewhere in the bunker. Just before Jones died, I activated Protocol 15, which means that this place up to the perimeter of the airfield is out of bounds permanently. An SAS
team and a ful squadron of German military police are on the way to bolster perimeter security. The machinery we used to excavate the bunker wil return this evening and begin widening the trench around the wal s so it can be fil ed with thousands of tons of concrete, and after that’s been built up, there wil be at least eight metres’ depth of concrete poured on the roof. This place wil be buried like the Chernobyl reactor. I’m afraid that means those works of art and antiquities wil never see the light of day after al . They probably wouldn’t have escaped the taint of this place anyway. And we’re going to have to leave Sergeant Jones’ body in there. That pinprick through his suit meant that his body was exposed to the atmosphere inside, and we can’t risk it.’
‘He had three smal children,’ Hiebermeyer murmured, shaking his head. ‘He was only tel ing me about them a couple of hours ago.’
‘I’m their godfather. I’m going to have to break this to them.’ Penn bunched his fists, his voice tight with emotion. ‘I’d do anything to get my hands on Auxel e.’
Jack clicked open his phone. ‘We have a dedicated MI6 contact. It’s the same as the one overseeing you.’
‘Done,’ Penn said. ‘I made the cal the instant we worked out what had happened to Jones. I used our secure line, and gave a ful situation report.’
‘Good,’ Jack said, clicking shut his phone. ‘I’l use the same secure line before we leave, if you don’t mind. Doubtless Saumerre wil have disappeared from Brussels by now too. We have to let MI6 find him and Auxel e. They stil won’t want to put out a warrant for them, but if anyone’s going to catch up with them, they wil . We have to bide our time but stay on maximum alert. Meanwhile Maurice and I have an invitation to Berlin to visit a bunker site that may have a connection with this place and what was stored inside. We’d benefit from your expertise.’
‘Maurice told me about it. I have to go to Wales to visit Jones’ wife and children. But I don’t want to let go of this. I’l cal you.’ Penn turned and began to walk back to the Portakabin, fol owed by the soldier. Jack thought for a moment, and then ran after him, catching up with him just before the entrance. ‘David,’ he exclaimed.
Penn stopped and turned around. ‘What is it?’
Jack unzipped the pocket of his khaki trousers, careful y pul ed out a presentation case and opened it.
Inside was a Military Cross, the silver of the cross tarnished and the mauve and white ribbon faded, but pinned careful y into the case. ‘I told you on the phone last week about Hugh Frazer, the army officer who’d been in the camp and was a friend of Major Mayne’s.
Before Hugh died, I promised him that if we found Mayne’s body, I’d leave this with him. Mayne won it in North Africa when the two of them were together in the same unit, and Hugh kept hold of it when he dealt with Mayne’s effects after he’d gone missing. He said Mayne was a bloody good soldier, the best. I was wondering whether you could leave this with Sergeant Jones. Hugh would have liked to know that a fel ow soldier like you was putting this where it belonged.’
He handed the medal to Penn, who stared at it for a moment and then gently closed the case. Jack could see that his face was taut with emotion. Penn nodded, and then clicked his heels. ‘I’l see to it.’ He turned and walked up the steps and through the Portakabin door.
Jack walked back quickly to Hiebermeyer, who was leaning forward on the bench with his head in his hands. Jack sat down beside him, put a hand on his shoulder and then stared forward himself, looking pensively at the bleak wasteland surrounding the runway. His dive to Atlantis seemed light years away, yet he remembered the extraordinary, harrowing image on the ROV monitor of that chamber in the volcano, and then Lanowski’s remarkable ideas about the Atlantis papyrus, something he would show Maurice when they had got away from this place. He peered with concern at his friend. He would also tel him about the exciting discovery of the Egyptian statue at Troy, but not now; that could be kept in reserve. He knew they had to do everything to keep from being overwhelmed by a sense of foreboding, a worst-case scenario with Saumerre and the Nazi weapon that could be playing out at this very moment.
They needed to keep lifelines to the archaeological prizes beyond the darkness Jack knew lay ahead. He opened his phone, and looked in his inbox. Stil no word from Katya about the ancient symbols.
Hiebermeyer straightened up, took off his glasses and wiped them on his shirt, then looked at Jack. ‘I’ve had an invitation from my Tante Heidi to visit her. She wants us to go to Wewelsburg Castle.’
‘Himmler’s SS headquarters?’
‘I don’t know why. But it was after I told her I was coming to the bunker. She insisted that she had something to tel me, and I cal ed her from the decontamination room and told her you’d come along too. Okay?’
Jack gave him a tired smile. ‘I need to make that phone cal to our MI6 contact in London, and then there’s a jeep waiting to take us off the airfield to a rental car I’d already got arranged in Bremen. We can drive from there to Wewelsburg. Are you al right?’
‘I’m supposed to be the one watching out for you, not the other way around.’
‘Now you see why I didn’t want you to come here.’
They both stood up. Hiebermeyer winced as he tried to flex his injured wrist, and then relaxed his arm in the sling. The jeep that had brought Jack from the Tornado was waiting again outside the Portakabin, and they walked towards it. Jack looked at the bubble over the bunker, trying to imagine what lay inside.
Hiebermeyer stopped and stared at it. ‘This place,’ he jerked his head, ‘this is what most people imagine the worst of war is al about. This is war spread beyond the battlefield to its worst excess, to genocide. But the place we’re going to now, to the heart of Nazi Germany, we have a word in German for what went on there. We cal it Gesamtkrieg.’
Jack nodded. He knew what that meant.
Total war.
PART 2
12
Berlin, the Zoo flak tower, 0930 hours, 1 May 1945
Oberstleutnant Ernst Hoffman put down his pencil and clapped his hands over his ears, waiting for the terrible vibration to pass. Each time the flak guns on the roof fired a salvo they sent a titanic groan through the structure, and then an aftershock that seemed to set on edge every iron bar in the thousands of tons of ferroconcrete that made up the wal s. It had been just about bearable while the guns were doing the job for which they had been designed, firing up at the waves of enemy bombers that had pounded Berlin for months, but now that the barrels were depressed to aim into the city at the advancing Russians they were straining the tolerance level of the gun platforms. The engineers who had built the tower could never have imagined that the defence of Berlin would come to this. The tower itself might survive the onslaught, a gargantuan five-storey structure like a medieval keep, but for the thousands of desperate people cowering inside, survival could only mean a matter of hours, a day or two at most. Here in this chamber on the second floor, Hoffman was insulated from the worst of the vibration, but the noise in the open stairways was appal ing, shattering eardrums and shaking the fil ings from teeth. To those trapped below it must have seemed like the final act of the apocalypse, a ghastly orchestral denouement to the Third Reich.
They cal ed it the Zoo tower because it stood in the grounds of the Ber
lin Zoo, now a scorched battleground on the edge of the Tiergarten, the huge park in the centre of Berlin. On the other side of the Tiergarten lay the Reich Chancel ery, with the Führerbunker beneath it, and north of that the Reichstag and Gestapo headquarters. Together they formed the last bastions of the Third Reich. The Zoo tower even had its own water reservoir, dug deep into the bedrock, and secret tunnels leading out under the Tiergarten. The garrison commander had told him that the tower could last for weeks, even months. But his calculation had been based on the normal garrison of 350: the Luftwaffe flak gunners and the medical staff in the eighty-bed hospital on the floor above Hoffman.
The hospital now held more than a thousand wounded and sick, and the lower floor and stairwel s were crammed with more than thirty thousand civilians.
Hoffman shook his head. Thirty thousand men, women and children.
He caught a glimpse of his reflection in the polished metal of the crate beside him. His face looked long, angular, distorted by a dent in the metal, almost as if he had taken on the features of the Stuka dive-bomber that had been his home for almost five years, from his first missions over England in 1940 to the flaming wreck in Poland six months before, from Blitzkrieg to Götterdämmerung. He had grown from youth to man in that machine, from innocent to kil er. A man becomes one with his weapon. He shifted slightly, wondering if that reflection could real y be him.
His skin was pale beneath his swept-back hair, ghostly in this light. Ever since being grounded and arriving in Berlin five months ago, he had felt as if the blood had been sucked from him. He flexed his fingers, feeling their strength. At least he had not gone to pieces like so many of his comrades in his Stuka squadron. And there was stil one final task to carry out.
He watched the shadows cast by the candle tremble on the wal s. The room was large, sepulchral, the wal s of stark concrete, in places flaked with paint that had been shaken loose by the vibrations. Directly in front of him a closed door opened on to a spiral staircase that led up to the gun platform on the roof and down to the seething mass of humanity below.
Gods of Atlantis Page 24