Narov traced the lettering running along the crate’s side. ‘Fliegerfaust. It means literally “pilot fist”. The world’s first shoulder-launched surface-to-air missile, to shoot down Allied warplanes. Again, thankfully, it came too late to make much of a difference to the outcome of the war.’
‘Surreal…’ Jaeger muttered. ‘So many firsts… It’ll take an age to catalogue all the secrets lying around in here.’
‘What exactly is so surprising?’ Narov asked, as she stared out into the white bones of the dead jungle. ‘That the Nazis had such technology? They had this and so much more. Search that warplane fully, and who knows what else it may reveal.’
She paused. ‘Or is your surprise that this aircraft is in American markings? The Allies supported the Nazis’ efforts to relocate their weaponry – their Wunderwaffe – to the far-flung corners of the earth. By war’s end we were facing a new enemy: Soviet Russia. It was a case of the enemy of my enemy is my friend. The Allies gave their blessing at the highest level to those Nazi relocations – hence why this aircraft is in USAF colours. The Allies – the Americans – owned the skies by then, and none would have made it through otherwise.
‘By war’s end it was a race against the Russians,’ Narov continued. ‘By seizing for ourselves the Nazis’ secrets – their technology and their foremost scientists – we were able to win the Cold War, not to mention the space race. Back then, that was how we justified it all.’
‘We?’ Jaeger interjected. ‘But you’re Russian. You said it yourself – by the end of the war you were the enemy.’
‘Of me you know nothing,’ Narov muttered. She was silent for a long moment. ‘I may sound Russian, but my blood is British. I was born in your country. Before that, my distant heritage is German. And now I live in New York. I am a citizen of the free world. Does that make me the enemy?’
Jaeger shrugged, half apologetically. ‘How was I to know? You’ve told me zero about yourself or—’
‘Now is hardly the time,’ Narov interjected, gesturing at the Ju 390’s cargo hold.
‘Fair enough. Anyway, keep talking – about the warplane.’
‘Take for example the Mittelwerk underground facility,’ Narov began again, picking up her thread. ‘In early May 1945, American forces overran it, and the first V-2 rocket systems were shipped out to the US. Just days later, Soviet army officers arrived to take over the complex: it lay within the Soviet zone of occupation. The American Apollo moon landings were built upon those V-2 technologies.
‘Or take Kurt Blome, the director of the Blitzableiter. One reason the Nazis’ biological weapons programme was so advanced was that they had thousands of concentration camp victims to test them on. At war’s end, Blome was captured and put on trial in Nuremberg. Somehow he was acquitted, after which the Americans hired him to work for their Army Chemical Corps, on a top-secret weapons programme.
‘We cut deals,’ Narov announced, unable to keep the bitterness out of her voice. ‘And yes, we cut deals with those who were unspeakable – the very worst of the Nazis.’ She eyed Jaeger. ‘You have never heard of Operation Paperclip?’
Jaeger shook his head.
‘It was the Americans’ code name for a project to relocate thousands of Nazi scientists to the US. There they were given new names, new identities, plus positions of power and influence – as long as they would work for their new masters. You had a similar programme, only with typical British irony you named it Operation Darwin: survival of the fittest.
‘Both projects were completely deniable,’ Narov continued. ‘Operation Paperclip was denied even to the level of the US president.’ She paused. ‘But there were layers of deniability that went even deeper. Aktion Adlerflug – Operation Eagle Flight – it is stamped on every one of the packing crates in this aircraft’s hold. Aktion Adlerflug was the codename for Hitler’s plan to relocate Nazi technology to places where it could be used to rebuild the Reich. It was a project that we – the Allies – endorsed, as long as they worked with us against the Soviets.
‘In short, you are sitting aboard a warplane that lies at the heart of the world’s darkest ever conspiracy. Such was – is – the secrecy involved that most of the British and American files related to this activity – not to mention the Russian files – remain closed. And I doubt they will ever be opened.’
Narov shrugged. ‘If all of this surprises you, it really should not. The supposed good guys cut a deal with the devil. They did so out of what they believed was necessity – for the greater good of the free world.’
75
Jaeger waved a hand at the crates lining the Ju 390’s hold. ‘It only makes this all the more incredible. This warplane – it’s got to be the greatest collection of Nazi war secrets ever assembled. All the more vital that we get it lifted out of here, back to somewhere where we can—’
‘Where we can what?’ Narov cut in, turning her cold eyes upon him. ‘Tell the world? Much of this technology we have now perfected. Take the Röntgen Kanone; the death ray. Recently, the Americans perfected just such a thing. It is codenamed MARAUDER. It stands for Magnetically Accelerated Ring to Achieve Ultra-high Directed Energy and Radiation. Basically, it fires doughnut-shaped spheres of magnetically cemented plasma. Think balls of lightning.
‘It is a classified deniable access programme,’ Narov continued. ‘In other words, the holy grail of secrets. As is MARAUDER’s direct antecedent – the Nazi Röntgen Kanone. So no, Mr William Edward Michael Jaeger, we won’t be presenting this discovery to the world any time soon. But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t do everything in our power to save it, and for all the right reasons.’
Jaeger stared at Narov for a long second: William Edward Michael Jaeger – what was with the use of his full name?
‘You know something, I’ve got a million questions.’ Jaeger’s voice rose above the suck and blow of his gas mask. ‘And most of them seem to concern you. Mind telling me how you know so much? Mind telling me everything you know? Mind telling me who you are, even? Where you come from? Who you work for? Oh yeah, and mind telling me what’s with the commando knife?’
When Narov answered, her gaze remained fixed on the dead forest. ‘I might tell you some of these things, once we are safely out of this. Once we are truly safe. But right now—’
‘Plus the satchel of documents,’ Jaeger cut in. ‘The one you retrieved from the aircraft’s cockpit. Mind telling me what’s in that? The flight manifest? Air charts? The intended destination of this and the other warplanes?’
Narov ignored the question. ‘Right now, William Edward Michael Jaeger, I think you need to know only this: I knew Edward Michael Jaeger, your grandfather. Grandfather Ted, as all we who knew him called him. He was an inspiration and a guide to us all.
‘I worked with your grandfather, or rather I worked in his memory; I worked with his inheritance.’ Narov pulled out her knife. ‘And it was your grandfather who bequeathed me this. I was curious to meet his living legacy: you. I remain curious. I do not know if he is everything – or even anything – that I had hoped he would be.’
Jaeger was speechless. Before he could think of a suitable response, Narov spoke again.
‘He was the grandfather I never had. That I couldn’t have.’ For the first time since Jaeger had met her, Narov fixed him with a very direct, piercing look, one that held. ‘And you know something else? I have always resented the relationship you had with him… and that you were left free to follow your dreams.’