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'A moment,' Ritter said. 'You speak as if you expect me to go there in person. As if it is an accomplished fact. But this would first mean leaving Berlin.'

'Naturally.'

'But how can this be?'

'You may have heard that the Fieseler Storch in which Feldmarschall von Greim and Hannah Reitsch flew into Berlin was destroyed yesterday.'

'Yes, I know that. They flew out last night in a replacement, an Arado training plane.' And then, with a sudden flash of insight, Ritter saw it all. 'Ah, I see now. The Fieseler Storch -'

' - Is in a garage at the back of an automobile showroom just off the main avenue near Brandenburger Tor. I'll give you the address before you leave. You will fly out tonight, or probably just after midnight tomorrow, the best time to evade the Russian anti-aircraft. About ten miles from Arlberg, here at Arnheim, there's an airstrip. Used for mountain rescue operations before the war. No one there now. You should arrive by breakfast time.'

'Then what?'

'You'll find transport. It's all arranged. Even my enemies admit I'm an organizer.' Bormann smiled. 'You will proceed from there to Arlberg where you will take charge of the five prisoners I have mentioned and bring them back to Arnheim with you. They'll be picked up from there by transport plane later in the day. Any questions?'

'Several. The purpose of this operation?'

'The prisoners, you mean?' Bormann waved a hand. 'Put out of your mind any wild rumours you may have heard about the execution of prominent persons. I abhor waste. Major, believe me. These people will be useful bargaining counters when we reach the situation of having to sit down and discuss peace terms with our enemies.'

'Hostages might be a better word.'

'If you like.'

'All right,' Ritter said. 'But what about the situation at the castle? Who's in charge?'

'Soldiers of the Wehrmacht, but only just. A Colonel Hesser - a good man, but crippled - and nineteen or twenty old men. Reservists. Nothing to worry about.'

'And I'll have a piece of paper, I suppose, ordering him to hand them over?'

'Signed by the Fuhrer himself.'

'What if he refuses - not that I'm trying to be difficult, you understand. It's just that after six years of service I've got accustomed to the fact that in war anything can happen, especially when one expects the opposite. I like to take care of all eventualities.'

'And so you shall.' Bormann indicated the map again, tapping with his pencil. 'At this very moment no more than ten miles west of Arnheim you'll find an SS unit or what's left of it. Thirty or forty men according to my information.'

'These days, as the Reichsleiter knows, the term SS can cover a multitude of sins. Are they Germans?'

'No, but first-rate troops. Finns, who were with Wiking Division in Russia operating mainly as ski troops.'

'Mercenaries?' Ritter said.

'Soldiers of the Waffen-SS whose contract does not expire until 9 a.m. on the 1st May. You will hold them to their contract and bend them to your purpose until you have secured your prisoners. Do you understand me?'

'I believe so.'

'Good.' Bormann handed him a small folder. 'Everything you need is in there, including the address of the garage where you'll find the Storch. The pilot's name is Berger. He's SS too, so you see, it's all being kept in the family. Oh, and there's just one other rather important thing.'

'What's that, Reichsleiter?'

'Someone will be going along with you, as my personal representative, just to see that everything goes all right. A Herr Strasser. I hope I can rely on you to offer him every courtesy.'

Ritter stood looking down at the folder which he gripped tightly in both hands. 'Is there something worrying you, Major?' Martin Bormann asked gently.

'The prisoners,' Ritter said and looked up. 'I want your assurance, your personal word on your honour, that no harm will come to them. That the situation will be exactly as you have stated.'

'My dear Ritter.' Bormann came round the desk and put a hand on his shoulder. 'Anything