'It's only a matter of months, then?'

'Yes, Herr Wilson. No more than that.'

'And Kammler?'

'Since last July, when the attempt on the Fhrer's life turned him against the Wehrmacht and encouraged him to place the whole rocket program in the hands of the SS, meaning Kammler, our recently promoted brigadier has been making an admirable public display of criss-crossing the country to take charge of the rocket firings which means he has freedom of movement and is above suspicion. I still don't like him, but he's certainly no fool and knows just what he's doing, though now that most of the launching sites have been captured, he has less to do there.'

'Do you think he's still dependable?'

'Yes. His sole desire is to avoid being captured and hanged as a war criminal which means he wants to go with us.'

'When is he coming here?'

'Any minute now,' Ernst said. 'He wants to witness the test flight of the Kugelblitz. It's not something he'd miss.'

Glancing across the hangar, the doors of which would soon open to reveal the southern Harz Mountains of Kahla, Wilson saw that the German workers, under the supervision of the engineers, were already starting to raise the hydraulic platform under the saucer.

In that gloomy s.p.a.ce, the saucer looked even larger than its seventy-five metres in diameter. It was resting on retractable shock absorbers, had an almost seamless, perfect aerodynamical shape, and even the pilot's c.o.c.kpit, located at the machine's centre of gravity, could be retracted during high-speed flight, thus making the machine look like a perfect disc, with no surface protuberances of any kind.

It was, to Wilson's way of thinking, something worth seeing.

Just as the whining, clattering steel platform came to rest on its adjustable wheels and went silent, Kammler and Nebe entered the hangar by the rear door and marched past the saucer into Wilson's office. Looking as handsome and cold as ever, Kammler sat on the edge of Wilson's desk. Nebe, as dark and unreadable as always, stood near the door of the office with his hand on his pistol.

He feels naked without that pistol, Wilson thought. The man is a predator.

'Welcome,' Wilson said, addressing his words to Kammler. 'How are things going?'

'Excellent,' Kammler said. 'At the end of January, Himmler placed me in complete control of the rocket program. I've just returned from the Hague, from where the V-1s and V-2s are being fired. We'll keep firing them from there until Antwerp falls, which it surely will, and then we'll be firing them no more, since we'll have run out of launching sites. When that time comes, it will be time to move from here, let's say March or April, certainly not much longer, since, as from yesterday, Allied troops were ma.s.sed along the Rhine on a sixteen kilometre front, preparing to launch themselves into Germany. In other words, our time is running out, so let's hope this test flight succeeds and we can start making arrangements in the knowledge that we have a workable saucer to take with us.'

Even as he spoke, the large doors at the far end of the hangar were being opened. Sunlight poured in to reveal an immense open s.p.a.ce that ran out to the base of a steep, densely forested hill. The smooth, metallic-gray surface of the Kugelblitz took on a brilliant, silvery sheen that clearly reflected the images of the men around the platform. Then the engine of the hydraulic platform roared into life and the platform, now on its raised wheels and manipulated by a combination of remotecontrol console and jib and crane, started moving slowly out of the hangar, into the open air.

'Oh, my G.o.d!' Ernst murmured, awe making him seem more alive. 'It's absolutely superb!'

Wilson could not resist a smile, then, nodding at Kammler and Nebe, led them, with Stoll, out of his office and across the concrete floor of the hangar, toward the open doors and the still moving Kugelblitz.

'Has the escape route been organized yet?' he asked of Nebe, who had fallen in beside him.

'Yes,' Nebe said in his flat, pa.s.sionless manner. 'The matter of when and how we leave will be complicated by the Soviet offensive, which is moving rapidly toward Peenemnde. Because of that, Wernher von Braun and five thousand of his workers are being moved this week to the new research station still under construction in the Bleicherode mine. Because the technicians and their families are going to be housed in the surrounding villages, as requested personally by Himmler, we're going to have to keep this place secret and leave at night, when we won't be observed.'

'When the time comes to evacuate,' Kammler said, 'I'll ensure that von Braun and his team don't know about it. In the meantime, while they're living in the Nordhausen area, I'll keep them under close guard and make sure that none of them comes this far. In short, they won't know you exist.'

'Excellent,' Wilson said as he led them out of the hangar and into the freezing wind of the cleared area, 'but how will we go?'

'The same way von Braun and his team are coming here,' Nebe replied. 'By train, truck, private cars, and even barges. To ensure that at least some of us get through, we'll be split up into groups and make the journey on three separate nights by different routes. The first will go to Rostock, then round the coast of the Baltic Sea; the second also to Rostock, but then on to Lubeck; and the third and last to Hamburg, via Hanover, then on to Kiel from there. A meticulous schedule has been arranged for each group. Each journey will be made by a combination of vehicles to confuse anyone trying to track our movements; and each stop, or change-over point, along the way will be in a secret location heavily guarded by my most trusted SS men, all of whom, like me, had to go underground after the failed July plot against Hitler. In other words, they're all men who've everything to gain and nothing to lose by coming with us. In that sense, at least, they'll be trustworthy and reliable.'

'It all sounds well organized,' Wilson said.

'It is,' Nebe replied.

The engines of the mobile platform in the clearing went dead, the wheels were raised to let the platform rest on the flat earth, and the Kugelblitz bounced lightly on its shock absorbers, then steadied again.

Out there, in the open air and sunlight, it was a thing of great beauty.

Wilson walked up to the pilot, who was waiting by the concrete observation bunker in the shadow of the high wall of the hangar. The man was wearing a Luftwaffe flying suit and seemed totally fearless.

'Are you ready to go?' Wilson asked of him.

'Yes,' he said.

'Good. Then let's do it.'

Wilson escorted him across the clearing and up onto the steel platform, finally stopping at the curved rim of the Kugelblitz, their heads in line with its ring of tiltable jet nozzles. From there, the raised pilot's compartment seemed to tower high above them, at the top of the ladder sloping upward to it. The pilot climbed up and Wilson followed to help him in. When the pilot was strapped in, Wilson checked that all seemed well, then scrambled down and let an engineer climb up to secure the Perspex hood. When that was done, the engineer climbed back down, pulled the collapsible ladder after him, gave the thumbs-up to the pilot, then marched with Wilson back to the concrete bunker in front of the open doors of the hangar.

Kammler, Nebe, and Stoll were already there, staring through the protective, tinted gla.s.s in a long slit in the wall of the bunker. Because the Kugelblitz was being flown by a pilot, there was no remote-control panel, as there had been with the Feuerb.a.l.l.s, though there was a man sitting by a radio console, prepared to talk to the pilot.

'All set?' Wilson asked him.