redirected to the Ukraine to start the exterminations.”
Amelie put her hands together, “We have to rescue Louis, Agent Omega. He is a good man who has been turned by these monsters. Please.”
“What do you say?” Donovan said. “Would you like to go pay Herr Kramer a visit?”
Price looked at the photograph on the screen. “Mad scientists, evil wizards, and Nazi death squads. How can I resist?”
***
Donovan kicked his feet onto his desk and leaned back to light a cigarette. He took a deep drag and said, “Get to Hillersleben and find Brevot. If Amelie can’t convince him to come home, neutralize him.”
Price picked up the glass of Scotch from Donovan’s desk and sipped it. It was late, and the moon was directly over the OSS building, reflecting off of the marble benches in the courtyard. “Why is the girl even involved?”
“She gave us the location of the facility and insisted on being part of the package.”
“What about the Antichrist?”
“He’s a fraud. Still, with him around, those kraut scientists are developing weapons of the Apocalypse, and we can’t let those SS maniacs get their hands on them. I want you to infiltrate Hillersleben and do what you do best.”
Price grinned and said, “What is that, exactly?”
“Make it real messy.”
***
Their plane landed in France’s zone libre two days later.
“Hillersleben is nearly 100 miles from Berlin,” Amelie said quietly. Their taxi driver kept glancing back at them in the rearview mirror, and she slid her hand inside Price’s and intertwined their fingers. “Darling,” she said loudly, “will you please roll down your window a little? It is so stuffy in here.”
The engine’s whine and the sound of the car’s tires grinding against the rough road was loud enough to drown out her voice. “How is your German?”
“ Vollkommen .”
“Excellent.” Amelie opened her bag and removed an envelope containing identification papers for a man named Hans Vogel and his wife Lena. “Here you go, Herr Vogel. I think you look nice in that photograph.” She pointed to the small black and white picture of herself in the corner of her papers and said, “Do you think I look pretty in my picture? I am your wife, after all.”
Price withdrew his hand and turned to look through the window at the passing countryside.
***
There were no other vehicles on the road except an occasional German military transport. Families trudged through the cold, even the youngest children’s faces sallow and sunken from hunger. “What has happened here?” Amelie whispered.
“The only way Hitler would agree to accept France’s surrender was if she footed the bill for housing three hundred thousand German troops. He set up a twenty to one currency exchange rate in Germany’s favor and requisitioned all of France’s food and fuel.”
Their car drove past a building with a humongous poster stretched across its side, nearly as wide and tall as the building itself. Price looked up and read the vulgar anti-Jewish slogans printed on it. Amelie pressed her hand against her mouth when she saw the numerous signs forbidding Jews to enter any of the shops along the road. “My father used to bring me this way to Paris when I was a child. It was so beautiful then. Now look at what this bastard Hitler has done to it. I want to kill him.”
Price leaned back in his seat and said, “Welcome to the war, Miss Brevot.”
***
Price shook Amelie and told her, “Wake up. Get ready to go.”
The car was still moving, and they were driving in the darkness. Amelie looked through her window and saw nothing but trees and the night sky above. “What are you doing?”
Price leaned forward against the back of the driver’s seat and said, “Stop the car. We’re