This will set us back… years, maybe decades. Years of watching hundreds of the most brilliant minds wasting their time doing things they’ve already done. The knowledge in these boxes is what I came for, why I’m risking my life and the lives of everyone else. I killed someone for it. Now it will burn and there’s nothing I can do to stop it. I only get to watch.
Time to go. The SS are getting into their cars. General Dornberger will escort the cargo himself. I’m in one of the trucks, with an engineer from Peenemünde and our SS driver. The uniform makes me sick to my stomach, but I’m glad I’m not behind the wheel. Off we go. It’s out of my hands, now. I can’t hijack a convoy by myself.
This is a nightmare—a gorgeous, heartbreaking nightmare. This whole place would be like a postcard without the barbed wire and the five thousand soldiers. We’re in the Harz mountains and spring is in full swing. Melting snow is making its way down, painting the rock face with miniature waterfalls. I see flocks of black storks returning home from their African winter. Everything is coming alive after a long, cold death. I can hear it, smell it. I feel… light, in the most horrible way. All the weight on my shoulders, all the pressure, gone. I’m like a twig in a river, just floating along and taking in the view. In some ways, it reminds me of home. Not the mountains, but the inevitability of it all. That’s what being around Mother feels like. That’s why I follow her. If she sets her mind to something, just strap yourself in and enjoy the ride. Mother always has a plan. She’s the river. I just go with the flow. Only she’s not here right now and this river leads to a deadly fall. I’ve failed. I did it all for nothing.
You have to admire Kammler in some ways. He’s a rare breed. No honor, no love for his country. He doesn’t care for a moment about his place in history, how the world will remember him. He just wants to save his own neck and he’ll kill everyone in Germany in the process if he has to. A perfect little machine built for one purpose only: survival. He’s a rat. I almost envy him. I don’t mean the evilness, just the simplicity of it. Never having to consider anything but yourself. It must be very…
I suppose we all have something we care about more than anything else, that one thing we’d kill for, die for. I know I do, but watching von Braun pack up his notes, I realized how much it all meant to him. I’m not comparing him to Kammler, but it was obvious that science is higher up on his list of things that matter than, say, people. I shouldn’t be surprised. Mother said so before I left. He only cares about the work, not who he does it for.
I miss her. I miss small things about her. Breakfast. Mother makes the best eggs. I miss my room, my clothes. I miss music. Our trucks don’t have a radio. I wish I could play my own records. Someone should invent that, a portable record player. Hamburgers. Forget breakfast, I wish for a hamburger. A real hamburger, not a stupid Hamburg steak. I want a bun, and fries, and a milkshake.
Our driver is smiling. He looks genuinely happy. I wonder what he’s thinking. He’s probably just enjoying the ride. I see the uniform and I forget these people are even human. Most of them would probably be decent people under normal circumstances. Not great people, not particularly brave, or nice, or smart. Just… okay. Like an extra on a movie set. I can tell this one doesn’t care what we’re hauling, or that he’s been asked to burn more knowledge than he can fathom. He wouldn’t understand if I explained it to him. He’s been on the wrong side of a war for too long, following orders that make no sense to him most of the time. Today, his orders are to drive a truck on a beautiful road in the Harz mountains. He doesn’t have to walk in the rain or lie facedown in the mud. He doesn’t have to kill anyone. I’d be smiling, too.
We’re slowing down. This must be the last village before our destination. The SS car has stopped and we’re pulling over beside them. Our driver is straightening his collar. It seems Major General Dornberger wants to talk to us.
—Du solltest alleine gehen. Eine SS-Eskorte würde auffallen.
You should go alone. An SS escort will attract attention. I wish I could say it the way he does. He has a great voice. It’s not particularly deep, not very loud either. But there’s something… leathery about it. Soothing and commanding at the same time. It makes you feel like everything will be fine if you do what he says.
Our driver is getting out. I don’t understand. Dornberger just dismissed our entire escort. Are they going to kill us? All the SS are getting into Dornberger’s fancy black car. But not him. He’s walking towards us. Towards me it would seem. There was a pen in between the seats a minute ago. There it is. I’ll hide it up my sleeve.
There’s a piece of paper in Dornberger’s hand. I think he wants to give it to me but he wants to say something first. He wants me to bring my head closer. I let the pen slide into my palm.
—Your mother sends her best. She wants to know where you are.
Mother. I should have known. It makes sense. Dornberger is an engineer. This whole project was his before Kammler kicked him out. The V-2’s his baby as much as it is von Braun’s. He wouldn’t want our cargo to burn any more than I do.
That’s it. He’s gone now. There’s no one watching us anymore. It’s just me, and the two engineers von Braun trusts the most. Let’s see what’s on that piece of paper.
There’s a map with some coordinates. We’re not driving to the incinerator. We’re heading to an abandoned mine about three miles from here. I think I know what the plan is. We’ll hide the documents inside the mine, seal it closed with dynamite if we can. When this is all over, the Americans can dig it out and von Braun will get all of his precious research back, all sorted and in neatly labeled boxes.
I guess I haven’t failed yet. I can get von Braun out of Germany. I needed help and Mother sent me a major general in the German army, all wrapped up in a neat little bow. Mother always has a plan. She—Wait. The map is pretty clear, but these coordinates makes no sense. 21–3–15 26–5–19 23–3–10. They aren’t coordinates at all. This is a message from Mother.
Letters to numbers, I suppose, but she’d have used a cipher. For a short message like this, she’d probably go with a one-time pad no one can break. Now I just need the pad. There’s no point in trying to guess, so I must already have it. Mother would have given it to me. Think, Mia. Think.
“Your mother sends her best. She wants to know where you are.” Mother knows exactly where I am, or she couldn’t have sent Dornberger to meet us. Bleicherode. That must be it. Bleicherode is the pad. I need a pen.
Twenty-one. That’s a “t”… Three… Fifteen…
…
Let’s see what we got.
Does that mean anything? Tracker… close. Tracker close. Leave.
Fuck me.
12
Stormy Weather
I have not heard from Mia since she arrived in Bleicherode, and there are few intelligence reports coming out of the area.
I know General Dornberger rendezvoused with them as I asked. I know he delivered my message. I did not want to risk burning him, but I had no choice. I told Dornberger his escape route in the north was compromised, that he had to join von Braun and head south. He could not do it on his own without arousing suspicion, so he took all of his troops with him. He will help as much as he can. He is an intelligent man, enough to know he is more valuable with von Braun than on his own. Dornberger could betray us. He offered to help only to save himself, and there is no reason to believe his priorities will change if the Germans find out. There is also no point in thinking about it. He is on our side for now, and there is very little I can do if he chooses to not uphold his end of the bargain. In fact, there is very little I can do, period.