The Rhinemann Exchange Read Online Free PDF Page B

pinstriped suit. Gone was the arrogance he had displayed moments ago.
    “I apologize for the delay, Herr Strasser. I should have realized.…” He gave the Berliner his badge.
    “No need for apologies, Herr Oberleutnant. They would be necessary only if you overlooked your duties.”
    “
Danke
,” said the Gestapo man, gesturing the four men beyond his point of security.
    They proceeded toward a set of double doors; clicks could be heard as locks were released. Small white bulbs were lighted above the moldings; again photographs were taken of those going through the double doors.
    They turned right into a bisecting corridor—this one not white, but instead, brownish black; so dark that Strasser’s eyes took several seconds to adjust from the pristine brightness of the main halls to the sudden night quality of the passageway. Tiny ceiling lights gave what illumination there was.
    “You’ve not been here before,” said the scientist-spokesman to the Berliner. “This hallway was designed by an optics engineer. It supposedly prepares the eyes for the high-intensity microscope lights. Most of us think it was a waste.”
    There was a steel door at the end of the long, dark tunnel. Strasser reached for his red metal insignia automatically; the scientist shook his head and spoke with a slight wave of his hand.
    “Insufficient light for photographs. The guard inside has been alerted.”
    The door opened and the four men entered a large laboratory. Along the right wall was a row of stools, each in front of a powerful microscope, all the microscopes equidistant from one another on top of a built-in workbench. Behind each microscope was a high-intensity light, projected and shaded on a goose-necked stem coming out of the immaculate white surface. The left wall was a variation of the right. There were no stools, however, and fewer microscopes. The work shelf was higher; it was obviously used for conferences, where many pairs of eyes peered through the same sets of lenses; stools would only interfere, men stood as they conferred over magnified particles.
    At the far end of the room was another door; not an entrance. A vault. A seven-foot-high, four-foot-wide, heavy steel vault. It was black; the two levers and the combination wheel were in glistening silver.
    The spokesman-scientist approached it.
    “We have fifteen minutes before the timer seals the panel and the drawers. I’ve requested closure for a week. I’ll need your counterauthorization, of course.”
    “And you’re sure I’ll give it, aren’t you?”
    “I am.” The scientist spun the wheel right and left for the desired locations. “The numbers change automatically every twenty-four hours,” he said as he held the wheel steady at its final mark and reached for the silver levers. He pulled the top one down to the accompaniment of a barely audible whirring sound, and seconds later, pulled the lower one up.
    The whirring stopped, metallic clicks could be heard and the scientist pulled open the thick steel door. He turned to Strasser. “These are the tools for Peenemünde. See for yourself.”
    Strasser approached the vault. Inside were five rows of removable glass trays, top to bottom; each row had a total of one hundred trays, five hundred in all.
    The trays that were empty were marked with a whitestrip across the facing glass, the word
Auffüllen
printed clearly.
    The trays that were full were so designated by strips of black across their fronts.
    There were four and a half rows of white trays. Empty.
    Strasser looked closely, pulled open several trays, shut them and stared at the Peenemünde scientist.
    “This is the sole repository?” he asked quietly.
    “It is. We have six thousand casings completed; God knows how many will go in experimentation. Estimate for yourself how much further we can proceed.”
    Strasser held the scientist’s eyes with his own. “Do you realize what you’re saying?”
    “I do. We’ll deliver only a fraction of the required