five milligrams apiece of Eukodal and cocaine. Plus, three milligrams of Pervitin."
"Oxy, coke, and meth. That would mess someone up real quick."
"Or enhance them."
"Oh?"
"According to this, D-IX caused brief bursts of superior performance. Subjects were able to carry heavy packs through the snow for two to three days straight." He flipped to another paper and quickly scanned it. "Here are some notes about genetics. Or rather, eugenics."
"Eugenics?" I searched my memory. "Wasn't that the excuse the Nazis gave for the concentration camps?"
"Yes, but it wasn't just the Nazis. Eugenics was a worldwide movement in the 1920s and 1930s. The basic idea was to weed so-called genetic misfits out of the population. The Jews, the poor, the idiots, the blind, the deaf, and the promiscuous all got caught up in the movement. They were segregated, sterilized, and often killed."
I thought back to our research on Werwolf . The mysterious Nazi operation was originally designed to recruit and train soldiers to operate behind enemy lines. But maybe it had bigger ambitions.
The building trembled. A layer of dust dropped into the room. A few small pieces of concrete collided against the floor.
"I might know what the Nazis were doing here," I said.
Graham stared uneasily at the ceiling. "What?"
"Maybe they were trying to fulfill the dream of every military power since the dawn of man. That is, create a soldier without genetic defects who could operate beyond normal human limits." I paused. "Maybe they were trying to create a supersoldier."
Chapter 28
"Damn it, Cy." Graham eyed the ceiling. "Let's go."
I ran to the opposite side of the workshop. "I want to check something."
"There's nothing left to check."
"Just give me a minute."
"The Amber Room's not here. It's time to cut our losses."
"Go." I stopped next to the dead body. "I'll be right behind you."
Graham twisted around. He hoisted himself through the open part of the doorframe and vanished from sight.
I quickly searched the dead man. I found a lighter and cigarettes in one jacket pocket. A black and white photo of what looked like an extended family filled another one.
The building groaned. A ripple ran through the walls. I heard a distinct cracking noise. It grew louder and louder.
I rooted about the floor. I found a gun—a Walther P38—lying a few feet away from the corpse. I picked it up and detached the single-stack magazine. It was empty. Apparently, he'd fired it before he'd died.
The concrete pulsed and throbbed. I heard an earsplitting crack. The thick walls sagged. The ceiling started to break apart.
I started toward the door. But a hint of leather caught my eye. I shifted my gaze and saw a small book partially obscured by the man's leg.
I grabbed it and ran for the door. Pieces of concrete, several feet thick, smashed all around me.
I picked up the pace.
Concrete struck my right shoulder. Tremendous pain ripped through my arm all the way down to my fingertips.
More slabs crashed to the floor. The ground trembled. The open part of the doorframe seemed to shrink. I stole a quick glance at the surrounding wall. It was pressing inward.
I reached the doorway. But the hole leading outside was smaller than I remembered. I realized the building was settling into the ice.
Graham reached into the room. "Give me your hand."
I grabbed it. He pulled. My arm slid through the door. My body lifted off the ground.
The building quaked. It dropped an inch into the ice.
I kicked at the edges of the door and rose into the air. Using my other hand, I pulled my head and shoulders through the doorframe.
The building quaked again. The door sank another few inches.
I scrabbled at the ice. My torso and waist slid out of the structure.
The building trembled. The door dropped and squeezed against my thighs.
I yanked my legs free and scrambled forward.
The building shuddered. The concrete crumbled. Then the door sank out of sight.
Twisting around, I watched the rest of
"Oxy, coke, and meth. That would mess someone up real quick."
"Or enhance them."
"Oh?"
"According to this, D-IX caused brief bursts of superior performance. Subjects were able to carry heavy packs through the snow for two to three days straight." He flipped to another paper and quickly scanned it. "Here are some notes about genetics. Or rather, eugenics."
"Eugenics?" I searched my memory. "Wasn't that the excuse the Nazis gave for the concentration camps?"
"Yes, but it wasn't just the Nazis. Eugenics was a worldwide movement in the 1920s and 1930s. The basic idea was to weed so-called genetic misfits out of the population. The Jews, the poor, the idiots, the blind, the deaf, and the promiscuous all got caught up in the movement. They were segregated, sterilized, and often killed."
I thought back to our research on Werwolf . The mysterious Nazi operation was originally designed to recruit and train soldiers to operate behind enemy lines. But maybe it had bigger ambitions.
The building trembled. A layer of dust dropped into the room. A few small pieces of concrete collided against the floor.
"I might know what the Nazis were doing here," I said.
Graham stared uneasily at the ceiling. "What?"
"Maybe they were trying to fulfill the dream of every military power since the dawn of man. That is, create a soldier without genetic defects who could operate beyond normal human limits." I paused. "Maybe they were trying to create a supersoldier."
Chapter 28
"Damn it, Cy." Graham eyed the ceiling. "Let's go."
I ran to the opposite side of the workshop. "I want to check something."
"There's nothing left to check."
"Just give me a minute."
"The Amber Room's not here. It's time to cut our losses."
"Go." I stopped next to the dead body. "I'll be right behind you."
Graham twisted around. He hoisted himself through the open part of the doorframe and vanished from sight.
I quickly searched the dead man. I found a lighter and cigarettes in one jacket pocket. A black and white photo of what looked like an extended family filled another one.
The building groaned. A ripple ran through the walls. I heard a distinct cracking noise. It grew louder and louder.
I rooted about the floor. I found a gun—a Walther P38—lying a few feet away from the corpse. I picked it up and detached the single-stack magazine. It was empty. Apparently, he'd fired it before he'd died.
The concrete pulsed and throbbed. I heard an earsplitting crack. The thick walls sagged. The ceiling started to break apart.
I started toward the door. But a hint of leather caught my eye. I shifted my gaze and saw a small book partially obscured by the man's leg.
I grabbed it and ran for the door. Pieces of concrete, several feet thick, smashed all around me.
I picked up the pace.
Concrete struck my right shoulder. Tremendous pain ripped through my arm all the way down to my fingertips.
More slabs crashed to the floor. The ground trembled. The open part of the doorframe seemed to shrink. I stole a quick glance at the surrounding wall. It was pressing inward.
I reached the doorway. But the hole leading outside was smaller than I remembered. I realized the building was settling into the ice.
Graham reached into the room. "Give me your hand."
I grabbed it. He pulled. My arm slid through the door. My body lifted off the ground.
The building quaked. It dropped an inch into the ice.
I kicked at the edges of the door and rose into the air. Using my other hand, I pulled my head and shoulders through the doorframe.
The building quaked again. The door sank another few inches.
I scrabbled at the ice. My torso and waist slid out of the structure.
The building trembled. The door dropped and squeezed against my thighs.
I yanked my legs free and scrambled forward.
The building shuddered. The concrete crumbled. Then the door sank out of sight.
Twisting around, I watched the rest of
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