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'I-I am honoured,' Rattenhuber stammered.

'I'm sure you are, Willi,' Bormann said dryly. 'But whether you reach Donitz or not is problematical and of no particular consequence. There are other tasks for you now of more importance.'

Rattenhuber's face was pale. 'The Kamaradenwerk? It begins?'

'Of course, Willi. Did I not always say it would? In my end is my beginning. I read that once somewhere. Highly appropriate.'

There was a tremendous explosion somewhere close by, the walls of the bunker shook, a cloud of dust filtered in through the ventilator.

Bormann glanced up, showing absolutely no sign of fear. 'There goes the Ivan artillery again. You know, in some ways it reminds me of the Twilight of the Gods. All the forces of evil are in league against them and then suddenly a new citadel arises, more beautiful than ever, and Baldur lives again.' He turned, his face grave. 'It will be so for us, Willi, for Germany. This I promise you.'

And Rattenhuber, in spite of the noise of the shells landing without cease thirty metres above his head, the sulphurous stench, the dust which threatened to choke him, straightened his shoulders.

'I, too, believe, Reichsleiter. Have never ceased to believe in the destiny of the German people.'

'Good, Willi. Excellent.' Bormann took a letter from his desk and shook the dust from it. 'This is the reason it is so important you get out of Berlin and that clown Donitz has nothing to do with it.'

At Schloss Arlberg in the main courtyard Schenck was preparing to leave. He stood beside the field car, the collar of his greatcoat turned up against the snow, and waited as Corporal Schmidt made a final check on the engine.

'Everything all right?' Schenck asked.

'As far as I can see, Herr Leutnant.'

'Good man.'

As he turned, Hesser, Canning and Birr came down the steps of the main entrance and moved across the courtyard.

'All set, Schenck?' Hesser demanded.

'Yes, Herr Oberst.'

'Good. General Canning has something for you.'

Canning held out an envelope. 'This is a letter I've written, explaining the situation here. Hand it to the first British or American officer you come to. I think it should do the trick.'

'My thanks, General.' Schenck put the envelope in his pocket, then unfastened the service belt that carried the holstered Walther automatic pistol at his waist. He held it out to Hesser. 'Under the circumstances, I shan't be needing this.' He reached inside the field car and picked up Corporal Schmidt's Schmeisser from the rear seat. 'Or this.'

Hesser hesitated, then took them. 'Perhaps the wiser course.'

'I think so, sir.' Schenck nodded to Schmidt, who started the engine. The Oberleutnant drew himself together and delivered a punctilious military salute. 'Herr Oberst -gentlemen.'

They all saluted in return, he climbed into the passenger seat and nodded. Schmidt drove away, out of the main entrance across the drawbridge and they disappeared into the first bend of the road.

As the sound of the engine faded, Birr said, 'You know, I've just thought of something.'

'What's that?' Canning asked.

'That if Schenck runs into a German unit and they find that letter on him, it isn't going to do him a great deal of good.'

'I know,' Canning said harshly. 'I thought of that when I was writing the damn thing, but at this stage of the game, he must just take his chance - like the rest of us,' he added and turned and walked back across the courtyard.

At approximately four o'clock in the afternoon, Rattenhuber conducted Ritter and Hoffer to the bunker exit leading on to Hermann-Goringstrasse. They each had a small field pack loaded with provisions for the journey and wore camouflaged ponchos and steel helmets. They were armed with Schmeisser machine pistols and in true SS fashion carried two stick grenades in the top of each boot.

The artillery barrage was still as relentless as ever and there was the sound of heavy fighting up near Potsdamerplatz.

Rattenhuber put a hand on Ritter's shoulder. 'What can I say, except good luck