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'Who from, Willi?'

'I don't know, Reichsleiter. I found it on my desk marked Priority Seven.'

Which was a code reference for communications of the most secret sort, intended for Bormann's eyes alone.

Bormann opened the envelope, then looked up, no expression in his eyes. 'Willi, the Fieseler Storch in which Feldmarschall Greim and Hannah Reitsch flew in to Berlin has been destroyed. Get on to Gatow at once. Tell them they must send another plane by morning, one capable of flying directly out of the city.'

'Very well, Reichsleiter.'

Bormann held up the envelope. 'Know what's in here, Willi? Some very interesting news. It would appear that our beloved Reichsfuhrer, dear Uncle Heini, has offered to surrender to the British and Americans.'

'My God,' Rattenhuber exclaimed.

'But what will the Fuhrer say, Willi, that's the most interesting thing.' Bormann pushed back his chair and stood up. 'Let's go and find out, shall we?'

5

From his window, Hesser could see out across the courtyard and outer walls to the road winding steeply down the valley to the river below. Beyond the trees was the tiny village of Arlberg, looking rather like something out of a fairy tale by the Brothers Grimm, the pine trees on the lower slopes of the mountain behind it green against the snow. In fact it was snowing again now, only slightly, but for a moment, it seemed to make the world a cleaner, more shining place. Some throwback to childhood probably.

The door opened behind him and Schenck entered. Hesser said, 'Snowing again. It's hanging on this year.'

'True, Herr Oberst,' Schenck said. 'When I passed through the village early this morning I noticed the woodcutters' children from the outlying districts skiing to school.'

Hesser moved to the drinks cabinet and poured himself a brandy. Schenck tried to stay suitably impassive and Hesser said, 'I know, the road to ruin, but it's bad this morning. Worse than usual and this helps a damn sight more than those pills.'

He could feel his left arm in every detail within the empty sleeve, every wire inside his broken body, and the glass eye was sheer torture.

'What does it matter anyway? The same roads all lead to hell in the end. But never mind that now. Did you try Berlin again this morning?'

'Yes, Herr Oberst, but we're just not succeeding in getting through.'

'And the radio?'

'Kaput, Herr Oberst. Stern found a couple of valves gone.'

'Can't he replace them?'

'When he opened the box of spares they had all suffered damage in transit from the look of things.'

'Are you trying to tell me we've no kind of communication at all with anyone?'

'For the moment I am afraid that is true, Herr Oberst, but with luck we should still get through to Berlin if we keep trying and Stern is out in a field car now, touring the district to see if he can find the spares he needs.'

'Very well. Is there anything else?'

'General Canning and Colonel Birr are here.'

'All right, show them in. And Schenck,' he added as the old lieutenant moved to the door.

'Herr Oberst.'

'You stay, too.'

Canning wore a sidecap and olive drab officer's trenchcoat. Birr was in a reversible camouflage and white winter uniform smock with a hood, of a type issued generally in the German Army on the Eastern Front.

Hesser said, 'Ready for exercise, I see, gentlemen.'

'Never mind that,' Canning said brusquely. 'What have you decided?'

Hesser raised a hand defensively. 'You go too fast, General. There is a great deal to consider here.'

'For Christ's sake,' Canning said. 'Here we go again. Are you going to do something positive or aren't you?'

'We've been trying to get through to Prisoner of War Administration Headquarters in Berlin since last night without success.'

'Berlin?' Canning said. 'You must be joking. The Russians are walking all over it.'

'Not quite,' Hesser said evenly. 'The Fuhrer, you may be dismayed to know, still lives and there are considerable German forces in the capital.'

'Four hundred and fifty miles away,' Canning said urgently. 'This is here, Max. What are you going to do here, that's what I want to know.'