|
Halstead continued to smile as he released the colonel’s hand and followed him down the carpet to a waiting limousine. “An excellent flight. I don’t believe I’ve ever seen the Alps from above.” “Yes, it is quite a sight. You can almost see the Austrian border on the landing approach.” The dictator’s smile faded somewhat as he climbed into the back of the limousine. “Well, I certainly hope not—” “Almost, mein Führer. We have done our utmost to maintain the strictest secrecy here.” “Describe it in detail,” Halstead instructed as his two guards joined him and the colonel in the back, seating themselves in the seat opposite with their carbines still at the ready. “Well, first,” the colonel glanced back and forth at the two truckloads of soldiers who would escort them to the first inspection point, “the men you see here, all the troops on base, are here on a one year assignment, with no families or visitors allowed. Even the mail is censored.” “But I trust the families of the scientists are being well cared for?” “Oh, most certainly, mein Führer,” the colonel assured him as the limousine lurched into motion. “It’s still under construction, naturally—we just completed the research centers yesterday—but we’re building a world unto itself here at Weitnau. A school, a gymnasium with tennis courts and a heated pool, a church, and even a synagogue, as you insisted upon—” “A religious man is most often a content man, Colonel, whatever that religion might be—” “Yes, mein Führer. All indoors, of course. And I’ve already had them taken on hiking trips and picnics,” the colonel made a sweeping arc with one arm at the surrounding mountains, “well out of sight of the perimeter fence, and far enough from base to give them a sense of change. Your scientists, whatever they’re working on, will be far happier than the vast majority of Germans!” |