Doctor Who_ Just War - Lance Parkin [55]
He couldn’t think of anything to say. Monique blew him a second kiss. He gunned the engine, and the motorbike pulled unsteadily away from her. Gaining confidence, he pulled down on the accelerator.
‘There is no permanent damage, sir.’
‘You hear that, prisoner? Nurse Kitzel says you are all right.’
A weak moan.
‘Sir, may I ask why you are continuing this process?’
‘Standard interrogation procedure.’
‘But, sir, you aren’t asking questions any longer. She has said who she is, admitted spying at the airstrip, she’s explained how she managed to sneak past the coastal defences in a rowing boat. She’s reeled off statistics about how many planes took off each night and you haven’t even cross-checked them. Whenever you demand that she tells you who sent her, she just asks for a doctor.’
Mumble.
‘She might have more information.’
‘But, sir, you aren’t asking her for it, just hurting her. She has a broken hand, a massive amount of bruising, she’s lost blood, she’s not eaten or slept for days, she’s delirious now, or do you really think that she is an archaeologist from the future who has spent the last few years flying around all the planets in the heavens?’
‘Thank you, Nurse Kitzel. Don’t worry yourself, I think I have just about finished with her.’
The Doctor had been given a guided tour of the facilities, and now Keller had left him alone for a moment. As he suspected, the barracks were underground. It was relatively luxurious for an army base, spacious lounges, even a small gymnasium and a library. There were a number of offices. It was difficult to judge, but he doubted that there were more than about one hundred and fifty people here. Leutnant Keller had been happy to show him the living quarters, but seemed reluctant to show him the laboratories, the test rigs or the hangars.
Steinmann wasn’t here, and he hadn’t been allowed anywhere near Hartung himself. Keller clearly had a scientific background, and the Doctor had been asking him leading questions, but hadn’t gained much from the answers. Keller entered, carrying a sheaf of documents under one arm, a briefcase in the other.
‘Here you are, Herr Doktor, something to keep you occupied.’
The Doctor flicked through the papers. ‘The plans for the jet engine?’
‘Correct, Doktor. So, what do you think?’
The Doctor put the blueprints down, and looked Keller in the eye. ‘Well, I’ve only had a second or so to look through them, but I think that it’s clear that you’ve not quite mastered the liquid oxygen and alcohol mix, which is understandable because you are used to working with diesel. I like the large axial-flow gas turbine, that should really give it some oomph.
Fourteen thousand pounds of dry thrust, at least, that’s ten times anything the British have managed. There must be a vast amount of vibration, I’d have thought. You’ve completely abandoned the cen trifugal compressor, I see.’
Keller was almost speechless. ‘Doktor, that is remarkable. You are a match for Hartung himself. I can see why Steinmann sent you here.’
‘Talking of Hartung, when do I get to meet him?’
‘In good time.’ The young officer placed the briefcase on the table, and opened it up. Inside was a very large number of bank notes. ‘Herr Doktor, here are one million Reichsmarks which I have been authorized to give you. A man of your talents is wasted in Britain. Here you will have a chance to work alongside the greatest scientific minds in the world. You will have unlimited resources, both personal and professional. All you have to do is sign this contract, then you will be rich, famous and part of the victory of the German Reich.’ He held out a piece of neatly typed paper.
The Doctor read it aloud. ‘I, Doctor dot dot dot, agree that
. . (If you could just fill your name in, and date it,’ Keller suggested, handing the Doctor a fountain pen. The Doctor did so, pocketing the pen afterwards.) ‘...from today, er, March the fifth 1941, I shall become a loyal citizen of the German nation. I swear total allegiance