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A MESSAGE FROM CHICKEN HOUSE

Iadore the what-would-happen-if stories from historythat nearly happened. What could we have done ifHitler had finished developing his ultimate weapon

or escaped at the last minute – but more importantlystill, what if it was all down to a bunch of renegade kids?Step up and find out – William Osborne makes it allcome true (nearly).

B A R R Y C U N N I N G H A MPublisherChicken House

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2 Palmer Street, Frome, Somerset BA11 1DS

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While inspired by real events and historical characters, this is a work of fiction and doesnot claim to be historically accurate or portray factual events or relationships.

Text © William Osborne 2014

First published in Great Britain in 2014Chicken House2 Palmer Street

Frome, Somerset, BA11 1DSUnited Kingdom

www.doublecluck.com

William Osborne has asserted his right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act1988 to be identified as the author of this work.

All rights reserved.No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted or utilized in any form or

by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying or otherwise, without the priorpermission of the publisher.

Cover design and interior design by Steve WellsCover photograph (boy): Dina Marie/Moment/Getty Images

Typeset by Dorchester Typesetting Group LtdPrinted and bound in Great Britain by CPI Group (UK) Ltd, Croydon, CR0 4YY

The paper used in this Chicken House book is made from wood grown in sustainable forests.

1 3 5 7 9 10 8 6 4 2

British Library Cataloguing in Publication data available.

PB ISBN 978-1-909489-76-9eISBN 978-1-909489-77-6

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To the Osborne family

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‘We have a bomb with a working that will astonish the whole world.’ Adolf Hitler at a meeting with Mussolini, July 1944

‘Save one life, save the world.’ The Talmud

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CHAPTER 111 January 1945

It was just before dawn when General Müller, head ofthe Gestapo, arrived at the Adlerhorst.

The Führer had based himself at this medievalGerman castle to direct his daring offensive against theAmericans and British in the forests of the Ardennes. Butnews from the front was bleak: the German army hadground to a halt, and the enemy was counter-attackingwith overwhelming force.

After six years, the unthinkable was happening: theThird Reich was losing the war.

General Müller stared out at the darkness beyond the

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car window, his mind racing. At least they still had Opera-tion Black Sun, he thought. It was both their last hope andthe best hope of victory. And he was here to report on itsprogress to Hitler himself. Everything was ready, he toldhimself: the secret airbase near Amsterdam; the friends inSouth America; the sea trial; the weapon itself . . .

After a series of checkpoints, his Mercedes pulled to ahalt in the castle’s large courtyard. A series of blast-proofconcrete bunkers had been built beyond it, cleverlydisguised to look like small cottages. Müller climbed outand stretched.

A sense of defeat seemed to hang in the foggy air.There was a muted silence to the staff officers who passedhim, saluting perfunctorily. The atmosphere wasn’thelped by the still-smouldering remains of the villagechurch and several cottages which had been hit by Alliedbombs a few days earlier. The Führer had been assured itwas coincidental – his whereabouts was a closely guardedsecret since the assassination attempt last July – but never-theless, it added to the sense of a tightening net.

Müller reached Haus 2. A uniformed valet opened thedoor and took his winter coat and hat, then escorted himto an antechamber outside Hitler’s situation room. Theplace had been decorated to resemble an Alpine lodge; itwas very cosy, Müller thought, sehr gemütlich.

Reichsleiter Bormann was standing in front of a firewarming his legs. He didn’t move his squat, paunchybody to greet Müller, just fixed him with his black eyes.

‘So, Müller, what is your report on Operation BlackSun?’ he said. ‘The Führer is anxious to hear it.’

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‘Everything is proceeding to plan and on schedule.’Müller pulled off his gloves slowly, finger by finger.

‘And the bomb?’‘It will be shipped to the Amsterdam airbase in time.’ Bormann merely nodded. The two men waited in silence for the Führer to

conclude the morning briefing of the Ardennes offensive.When the last of the tense-faced generals had departed,Müller and Bormann stepped inside and the doorsslammed shut behind them.

They snapped salutes to the Führer, who waved themaway.

‘I’d like some good news for a change, Müller,’ he said.‘My generals continue to thwart all my best endeavours.’Though he looked thin and his hair was lank, there wasstill, Müller thought, a sense of burning energy.

‘Of course—’ he began before Bormann the sycophantinterrupted him.

‘General Müller reports that all aspects of OperationBlack Sun are in place.’

Müller watched as Hitler nodded, mulling it over.‘This bomb . . .’ ‘Here, mein Führer . . .’ Bormann quickly laid out a map

in front of Hitler, who studied it carefully with a largemagnifying glass.

‘New York?’‘Ja, mein Führer. Observe . . .’ Bormann jabbed his middle

finger at a series of concentric rings. ‘Central Park. Thefirst two rings spell total annihilation. Everything reducedto dust.’

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The Führer stared at the two rings, the second oneextending well beyond the island of Manhattan. ‘So thisatom-splitting weapon will work,’ he said eventually.‘Incredible.’

‘Indeed, mein Führer,’ said Bormann. ‘With this weaponyou can win the war in one stroke. The genius of Germantechnology will be the Fatherland’s salvation.’

The Führer threw down the magnifying glass andstabbed an accusing finger at the two men. ‘Didn’t I tellyou,’ he said, ‘didn’t I tell the German nation to keepthe faith, that we would triumph over whatever the Americans and Bolsheviks threw at us?’

His voice grew louder and stronger as he spoke. Müllernoticed a fleck of spit form in the corner of his mouth.There was silence for a moment. Hitler closed his eyesbriefly then opened them.

‘If the sea trial of the weapon is successful then wemove immediately – in three days. Müller, you will fetchmy baggage.’

Müller frowned, not understanding. ‘Your baggage,mein Führer?’

‘Frau Braun, she is staying at the Berghof. Bring thesister too – she will want some company in Argentina nodoubt.’

‘Ja, mein Führer.’‘And my special gift that I promised our Argentinian

friend? The stone?’‘The stone . . .’ Bormann began but this time Müller

interrupted him.‘Everything will be in order by the time we leave,

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mein Führer.’Hitler frowned. ‘See that it is. I gave my word to

the señorita.’Müller saluted and the Führer planted his hands on his

hips, his eyes bright.‘Take heart, gentlemen, the real war is just about to

start! This weapon – this wonder weapon – will rain deathon any city we choose: first New York, then Moscow, andfinally Churchill’s London. We will bomb them all backinto the Stone Age!’

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