The Haigerloch Project

“If you are unable to handle it, Sergeant Brauner—” Himmelmann made his voice icy—“perhaps I had better take it up with your superior.” He paused. He sounded regretful. “I had rather thought it a routine matter. However…” Again he paused significantly. “It will, of course, take time. Time we can ill afford to lose.” He sighed audibly on the phone. “However, if you think I must—”

“No, Herr Professor Not at all.” The sergeant hastened to decline any responsibility. “I shall issue the pass on your authority, Herr Professor.”

“Very well,” Himmelmann acknowledged. “I shall be waiting.” He hung up. His role in the conspiracy to destroy the project at Haigerloch had suddenly increased enormously — and alarmingly. And not at all by his choice. He had the uncomfortable feeling of having his neck in a noose. A noose held by the hands of his colleagues — and his adversaries….

The Unterscharführer unlocked a drawer. He pulled out a pass with a broad red stripe running diagonally across it. He filled it out with Sig's name, stamped it, and entered it on his log. He handed it to Sig.

“Have Professor Himmelmann sign it,” he grumbled. “As soon as you see him.”

Sig nodded. He took the pass. He stared at it.

The Red Pass. The key to the reactor cave of Haigerloch…

He walked into the compound.

He knew the way.

7

The first green sprouts were pushing up in the people's vegetable garden in Anna Weber's back yard. The seeds had been in the ground twelve days now. The carrots seemed to be doing best, followed by the tomatoes and the cucumbers.

Inside, in Anna's shop, the light blazed and the indefatigable sewing machine whirred diligently under Anna's urging.

In the small back room, a council of war was in progress. Wanda's presence was fading and spirits were high. It had started when Sig returned to the Storp house from Haigerloch and triumphantly plunked down his trophy.

His Red Pass.

For the first time they had a real chance of success in their impossible task. The final test at Haigerloch had been scheduled for 1400 hours on April 10. They had sixty-four hours to go.

All five of them were there. All seemed imbued with new hope, except Himmelmann. To his sour cynicism had been added a glum resentment at finding himself much more deeply involved in the action than he had ever intended. And no way to get out. On the stool before them lay a gun. Oskar's Luger. The only weapon they had been able to get their hands on.

Dirk was looking at Oskar. “Five or six sticks,” he said. “That's all you can get?”

Oskar nodded. “You must understand. Any serious shortage would touch off an investigation. Dynamite allocation for railroad work is tight” He thought for a while. I can get away with eight sticks. And a few detonator caps. Enough fuse to do the job.”

“Not a hell of a lot,” said Dirk. He was disappointed. “We'll only be able to do a limited amount of damage.”

“There is another possibility,” said Oskar.

Dirk looked interested. “Shoot.”

“A Panzerfaust,” said Oskar. “Or two.” He fished out a piece of paper from his pocket. “They were distributing these at the yard yesterday. I could requisition a couple such weapons.”

Dirk took the paper. It was a handbill headed “WIE BEDIENE ICH DIE PANZERFAUST? — How Do I Use the Panzerfaust?” It had two squares with four drawings in each, one series showing how to prepare the weapon for firing, the other picturing possible positions to be taken by the operator. The instructions were simple and concise. The Panzerfaust—literally, Armored Fist — was a simple mass-produced anti-tank weapon, basically a small recoil-less gun firing a powerful, oversized bomb with a charge of three and a half pounds of high explosives. Once fired, the device was discarded. Every man, woman and child from seven to seventy was urged to use the Panzerfaust to destroy enemy tanks and trucks. The weapons were easily obtained.

Dirk nodded. “Good enough,” he said. “We can use the warheads. Get some.”

Oskar nodded.

“And don't forget the tape,” Dirk added. “Get a couple of large rolls. Ordinary electrical tape will do.”

“No trouble,” Oskar said.

“Okay.” Dirk looked at Sig “Once more over lightly,” he said. “Give us the layout” He looked at Himmelmann. “Anything you can add, do.”

“Two steel doors to the entrance bunker,” Sig began. “Two more from the bunker to the cave interior. Directly behind, a large tunnel leading straight back. Immediately inside, off this tunnel right and left, are storage rooms. Drums. Pipes. Metal racks. Crates. Then one or two cross tunnels—” He glanced at Himmelmann.

“One,” said the scientist sullenly.

“—one cross tunnel branching off to other areas. At the far end, the main tunnel forms a T. Here there is a checkpoint, constantly manned. No one except key personnel is allowed beyond that point. Not even Red Passes! The main laboratory, the pile itself and the instrumentation control room are located in this deep part of the cave.” Sig stopped.