The Haigerloch Project

Dirk threw a quick glance toward the break in the rear wall. It was the only way out. The only avenue of escape.

They had no chance whatsoever of reaching it.

Backs to the pinrail, they stared at the SS men.

The senior officer took a single step toward them. He stopped. He stared at his trapped quarry. The look of triumph blazing in his eyes rivaled the brightest flame of the hell raging below.

Dirk stood motionless. For a brief eternity the two men stood stock still, staring at one another.

The SS colonel would be Werner Harbicht, Dirk thought. The officer Himmelmann had warned them against. Their nemesis, he'd said. He'd called the shots….

Harbicht had not missed Dirk's glance toward the ragged break in the wall. Without taking his eyes from his cornered prey, he barked a short command. One of the SS men ran to the break and took up position, still covering the three captives with his Schmeisser. Rauner and the other SS man closed up on either side of Harbicht.

Dirk's mind was in turmoil. But one fact stood out with glacial clarity. They were alive! Harbicht and his men had not gunned them down. As they could have done…. He fought to bring order to his whirling thoughts. To reason clearly. Why? He, too, was armed. Why would the SS officer take the chance of being killed? There was only one answer. He wanted them alive. Needed them alive. Why? Information. With lightning lucidity he knew.

Oskar!

The big man had not talked. If he had, Harbicht would have shot them down the moment they were trapped. He had to take them alive. Make them talk….

He shivered.

There was a way to cheat Harbicht. One single, certain way.

The Luger suddenly felt heavy in his hand. All it would take would be three rounds. One for Sig. One for Gisela. One for himself. Had that been Oskar's way out?… His hand twisted on the gun. He'd have to act fast — before the Schmeissers could disable him and leave him or either of the others alive….

All at once he felt completely calm. He had made his decision. He would carry it out as fast as he could. Gisela first. She must not suspect for an instant. Then Sig. He would understand. They would be the victors after all….

He felt himself tensing.

He did not look at his friends. He dared not meet their eyes. He cast one last glance around him. A final gaze at the place that would be the last his eyes would ever see….

The gutted theater auditorium. The raging fire below. The scarred and ravaged structure itself Ruins…

His eyes swept the dismal vastness of the stage, once the setting for the brightest make-believe. Now marred and dead, tiny curls of smoke rising from the cracks and rifts in the flooring. And above — high above — the flourishes of play-making, the colorful set pieces once bathed in brilliant stage lights.

His eyes suddenly focused. There — high above — suspended from the gridiron by a single, heavy rope — hung a large section of a hanging catwalk, several floodlights still clamped to its iron railing….

His heart pounded. He needed time. Just a little time, please God…

The seconds raced by.

He was suddenly aware of movement out on the stage. Harbicht was motioning his men to fan out. At once Dirk called to him, at the top of his voice.

“Colonel Harbicht!”

The Germans froze. Harbicht stared at Dirk.

“You are Colonel Harbicht?” Dirk shouted.

Harbicht nodded curtly. He contemplated the enemy saboteur. American? Certainly not British. No Engländer ever lost his accent that thoroughly. He was vastly intrigued The terrorists were cut off. They were his. He could afford a little cat-and-mouse game. He could afford to let himself be amused. And he did need them alive. He would listen to what the man had to say. For a while. Whatever it was, it could be put to use. Later…

Without turning, Dirk spoke urgently to Sig, standing behind him with Gisela. “Don't look up now,” he said. “Wait. There is a heavy section of a catwalk hanging above. Trace the rope that is holding it. Find the pin it's fastened to. Got it?”

He heard Sig's constricted voice from behind him. “Yes.”

“Tell me as soon as you've found it.”

Harbicht was calling to him.

“I am Standartenführer Harbicht!” he responded.

“Can we make a deal, Colonel?” Dirk cried. “Let the others go, and I'll tell you anything you want to know!”

Harbicht smiled coldly. “I fear that is not possible,” he called. “You — or one of you — will tell me anyway!”

“How about the girl?” Dirk shouted. “She can be of no use to you”

Harbicht gloated. Interesting. His tolerance had paid off. Useful. An attachment between the girl and the obvious terrorist leader. Very useful… The girl. Harbicht was suddenly filled with cold hate. The girl. A German. Ein Verräter! — a traitor! Without her help, and the help of other contemptible scum like her, the saboteurs could not have succeeded. Could not have shown him up the way they had. The girl… She least of all would be let go.

Dirk heard Sig hiss from behind him.

“Got it!”