The shock wore off.
Liam Murphy dropped on his bench. He threw his hands up. “Hitler lives after all.”
Unruffled, Frank Miller said, “Now I know most of us will find this subject impossible to believe. It was why I chose the road of non-disclosure when recruiting some of you, except for the two professors and the journalist, I mean Ms. Olivia Newton.
“For reasons that will become obvious to you all soon, I have decided to come clean. This project may have inherent hazards and it would be fair to give more information, to tell you all the truth as this is important for our continued cooperation.
“There is indeed a laboratory on this continent. It was a well-guarded secret for a time, until one of its protectors was killed recently by unknown people with their own interests.”
“In July 1938, the German government entrusted Captain Alfred Ritscher with the command of an Antarctic expedition. Within the space of a few months, an expedition was assembled and equipped, with the official objectives of obtaining topographical knowledge for the German whaling fleet, simultaneously carrying out a scientific program along the coast with respect to biology, meteorology, oceanography, and the earth’s magnetic field and exploring the unknown interior with a series of mapping flights. Since he only had a half year to get ready, Ritscher had to fall back on available ships and aircraft owned by German Lufthansa Airways that until then had been deployed on the Atlantic service. After some hurried modifications to the vessel ‘Schwabenland’ and to Boreas and Passat, the two Dornier ‘Whale’ flying boats, the expedition departed Hamburg in December 1938. Because the preparations were done in secret, the public had no prior inkling of the expedition.”
Olivia nudged Peter and whispered, “Your colleague was right.”
“Still don’t change the fact.”
“What fact?”
“That he’s an asshole.”
Miller went on.
“On flights made in January and February 1939, an area of about 350,000 km² was surveyed photographically using serial imaging cameras. In their course, they discovered hitherto completely unknown mountainous regions free of ice in the coastal hinterlands.”
“At the pivot points on the polygonal flight patterns, metal arrows bearing the national insignia were dropped in order to assert German territorial claims.”
“In the course of special added flights that Ritscher also took part in, they filmed and took color photos of areas of official interest. Biological investigations were carried out onboard the ‘Schwabenland’ and on the ocean ice along the coast. The expedition’s leadership named the surveyed and flown-over area between 10° W und 15° E ‘New Schwabenland.”
“From Captain Ritscher we have it that he was preparing another expedition with improved, lighter aircraft on skis, which, it has been assumed until now, never took place because of the start of the Second World War.”
“But, what if—?” Miller argued.
Liam Murphy chuckled. “What? What if it was just that, folks going about their whaling business?”
Frank Miller gave Liam the look a teacher would give a headstrong student. He went on.
“During the years 1940 to 1943, the German Reich carries out additional, this time secret, military operations in New Schwabenland and, in 1942/1943, it begins expanding an ice station into a German fortress. As the hostile armies gather on Germany’s borders, feverish attempts to evacuate material, high technology, secret documents, and important individuals to the base commence.
“More than three months after the German Reich capitulated in 1945, on the other side of the world the German submarine U-530 entered the Argentinian port of Mar del Plata. Its commander, described in the local newspapers as tall and blond, identified himself as Otto Wermuth. Neither he nor most of the crew could produce identification papers. Only one month later, the U-977 submarine, commanded by Heinz Schaeffer, reached the same port. Coincidence? There was a suspicion, floated by the Soviets, that Adolf Hitler, Eva Braun, and their closest aides had been on board and had been landed.
“In the winter of 1946/1947, the US Navy conducted what was advertised as a purely scientific expedition to the Antarctic. Taking part in this operation, codenamed “Operation High Jump,” were an aircraft carrier, destroyers, icebreakers, a submarine for a total of 13 warships, 15 heavy transport aircraft and long-range reconnaissance planes, and almost 5,000 men.
“Does that sound to you like a scientific expedition?” Miller asked the camp.
“The expedition was slated to last six months. But three weeks into it, Admiral Byrd already ordered an end to it, because of the loss of several airplanes. Pilots had gone missing. It was such a hasty retreat that nine airplanes were left behind on the permanent ice.”
Miller handed his stick to Itay Friedman, crossed his hands on his chest, and stared at the crew.
“As I already said, this is quite a lot to digest. I myself would not believe it at first. I thought all of it was someone’s imagination. Some mad attempt at conspiracy.”
“How do you know all of this?” Anabia Nassif pushed his glasses up his nose.
“It is not important how I know, but we are here now. And I don’t suppose anyone here would think me mad enough to go on a wild goose chase. If the credibility of facts is what worries anyone here, I can assure you that we are on track.
“My suspicions were confirmed when my associates came upon a map which has been in the possession of a scientist who had worked in Hitler’s secret laboratory. Now we have the location, coordinates and all.”
Quiet, as solemn as the documents in Olivia’s computer in her apartment, settled on the camp. Miller glanced at Friedman and nodded. The bodyguard gave Miller another map.
“A scientist? Are you kidding me?” Anabia Nassif said.
“I don’t kid,” Miller answered softly. “The scientist’s name was Harald Kruger and he had all the evidence that has led us here.”
The biologist Anabia Nassif turned to look at Peter and Ted Cooper. He met deadpan gazes. Olivia watched the billionaire with some unease.
“Now you all have the rare opportunity as some of the very few people alive to see for themselves, for the first time after years-old mystery, the site of the laboratory here on this continent.” Miller hung Harald Kruger’s map over the former one.
“We found coordinates in Harald Kruger’s notes. These coordinates pin right here.”
He touched a spot on the map.
Then he declared:
“Ladies and gentlemen, this is a historic moment! You are the first people since the end of the Second World War to see not only the location of the German station on this map, but also its exact layout. I expect to have located the entrance to it tomorrow afternoon.”
No one made a sound. The wind outside had tapered off in the middle of Miller’s speech. All eyes were on the map.
During the night, Ted Cooper had regained some of his spirits, if he lost them at some point before, that was. He started clapping. It sounded dry as his hands were stamping together. Perhaps on account of the dry air, it did sound like knocking two stones together.
“Bravo, bravo, splendid,” he sang.
No one joined him.
Frank Miller invited the camp to rest until the storm subsided. He glanced at Olivia and Peter, he nodded at Ted Cooper. Itay Friedman unhooked the maps and rolled them up.
Ted Cooper asked Peter Williams, “Did you give Miller that map?”
Olivia said she did.
“Against the wishes of a dead man,” Cooper sneered.
Olivia frowned, “Miller is worth several billion dollars, Professor Cooper. I could have given it to you if you were so much as a good friend when Peter needed you.”