“Fine weather for ice-skating, not for the farmers trying to feed our brave soldiers on the front.”
His words were practiced, deliberate. They were the code words. He turned the page, keeping the newspaper in front of his face.
She knew she had to speak next but eyed the man smoking the cigarette. He was looking but averted his eyes as he noticed her peering back at him. A soldier in SS uniform walked past them.
“Is it safe to speak here?”
“Perhaps not,” he said, but didn’t move. “You’re not quite whom I was expecting.”
“There was a problem with the original operative. He wasn’t able to make it.” Hahn turned to her as she continued. “He’s alive and well. He had some issues, however, and won’t be able to travel for a few weeks.”
She stared out in front as she spoke, aware that though his newspaper was in front of him, he was looking around it at her.
“I’m going to get up,” he said. “I’ll wait for you at the corner of the street over there. Come in five minutes, and we can walk together.”
He folded up his newspaper and tucked it under his arm as he stood. She tried not to check her watch more than a couple of times. The man who’d offered her a cigarette was talking to someone else on the bench now, seemingly oblivious. As soon as she’d counted out the five minutes, she made her way over to Hahn, who greeted her with a handshake.
“You know who I am, but I don’t know you. What do I call you?”
“Franka. I’m German.”
“Do you speak for our Allied friends? Can you make promises on their behalf?”
“Yes, I can.” John had assured her of that much.
“You say that your man cannot travel. What exactly is the problem?”
“He has two broken legs. He’s recovering in a cabin near Freiburg.”
Hahn waited until they passed a soldier and his girlfriend walking arm in arm.
“That could be a problem. There’s been a change of plan.”
“What change of plan would that be?”
“I want to get my wife out with me.”
“I thought you were divorced, with a daughter living in exile in Switzerland?”
“Heidi is in Zurich, yes, but I can’t in good conscience leave my wife behind. The bombing has stepped up in recent weeks. It seems that the Allies have absolute rule over the skies of Germany now. Thousands are being slaughtered, and God help us all if the Soviets come. I can’t leave her to face that fate alone.”
“I’ll see what we can work out.”
Hahn stopped. “If she doesn’t come, I don’t either.”
Franka tried to picture John hobbling on legs barely healed and trying to lead a couple in their fifties through the frozen forest to Switzerland. It didn’t seem plausible.
“I’ll talk to our friend about it. I have a number of questions for you too.”
Franka looked around. No one stood within earshot. They walked on.
“I trust you’ve organized the house I demanded. I want a house on the beach, and two cars, one German and one American.” Hahn smiled to himself. “I want to be the leader of the team I’m working with, and I want control of the study.”
“Everything has been taken care of,” Franka said. “How is your work progressing?”
“We’re drawing closer to a breakthrough.”
“What about the Nazi leadership? Are they beginning to pay attention?”
“I had a letter from Himmler last week, praising me on the progress that we’ve made. The rumor is that he wants to make us his pet project. He’s going to use our findings to curry favor with Hitler. He’s in the process of scheduling a visit. If Himmler can get Hitler’s approval, then we’ll get all the funding we require, and we’ll be able to develop our weapon.”
The word “weapon” jarred her, and the questions multiplied, but she remained on task, remembering John’s words. “Is there no way you can stop the progress?”
“I’m part of a team. If I were to make some kind of deliberate mistake, then the rest of the team would notice. I could be thrown off the project, and in that case, your people would have no one inside. I couldn’t do that—it would harm my reputation, and besides, your masters want me to continue with my progress as far as I can before they steal it for themselves. They don’t believe that the Nazi leadership is going to back us to the necessary extent we’d need to finish the job. They think the war will be over by the time we get to the stage of having something we could actually use.”
“Are they correct?”
“Maybe. Maybe not. It’s difficult to say. It’s a dangerous game they’re playing.”
“Could the work continue without you?”
“Yes, but I am the spearhead and the driving force behind it. I am also the public face. Without me, people like Himmler will lose interest, and the project will be overlooked in favor of the jet-engine development Hitler believes can turn the tide of the war. Our project is one of many claiming to be the savior of Germany. It’s just that I happen to know the true potential of what we’re doing. It’s been difficult to get others to realize it too. This meeting with Himmler could make or break our project.”
It was hard to tell whether he was anti-Nazi or not. She was beginning to get the impression that if they didn’t steal him away, he would see the project out to its resolution in Germany, and the Nazis would be able to make use of the potential of this weapon he’d mentioned. Perhaps he only wanted to make use of the Americans’ superior facilities and funding. Perhaps the project itself was all that counted, and scientific discovery was all that mattered to him, not to what ends that science would be used. A man with no loyalties other than his work was a dangerous one.
They walked in silence for a few minutes, passing from the Schlossplatz into the streets beyond. Imposing stone buildings surrounded them, and the evening began to set in. Streetlights flicked on, some broken, some working.
“So what’s your plan from here?”
“We want you to sit tight for two weeks and then make your way to Freiburg.”
“And then you will take my wife and me to America so that I can continue my work?”
“What age is your wife, Dr. Hahn?”
“Fifty-three.”
“Bringing another person along, particularly a woman in her fifties, is going to make getting across the border to Switzerland all the more difficult. I’m sure a brilliant man like you can appreciate that.”
“That’s the only way I’ll go.”
Franka tried to imagine what John might say. Perhaps John might get them across one by one, taking the wife first and coming back for Hahn. It was remote, but it might be possible.
“Have you any way of bringing the work with you?”
“I’ve made microfilm of blueprints and plans. Bringing it along shouldn’t be a problem.”
“And where is this microfilm?”
“Stashed safely.”
She was just about to ask him to elaborate when the shrill sound of the air-raid sirens pierced the air.
Franka could see the fear in his eyes. “An air raid,” he said. “We’ve got to get to a shelter.”
“How long do we have before the bombs begin?”
“It’s hard to say with the valley we’re built into, and the foggy conditions. The planes could be right on top of us. Are you coming with me?”
“I’ve nowhere else to go.”