Von Duesen had caught so many Jews in the last twenty-four hours his commanding officer, General Steuben, did not mind that his night reconnaissance had been a bust. Von Duesen stood ramrod straight in the general’s quarters as he finished his debriefing. A large map of the area was pinned to the wall.

“Today we searched all around this area here.” Von Duesen pointed out his route. “We found many abandoned farmhouses and took a total of thirty-six prisoners into custody.”

“Excellent work, Major,” the general said. Von Duesen nodded in appreciation.

“Once the area is Judenfrei and the country is ours, we will be able to relocate many of our people here. The farming is excellent, the soil quite fertile. This may become the fuel that drives the Reich to conquer all of Europe. The land here could grow enough crops to feed thousands—maybe millions.” General Steuben grew excited at the thought. The gestapo knew the führer’s master plan. Once this area was cleared of Jews and the Russian army was defeated, Hitler would relocate German citizens here to farm and expand the empire.

“Ja,” the general went on. “Ukraine is indeed rich in resources. When the Russian army is crushed, we will control an entire continent. Our enemies will fold like tents in the wind before the might of the Reich.”

“Heil Hitler,” Von Duesen said as he performed the traditional salute. But part of him doubted the boasting general. Karl’s brother, Heinz, was serving with a German infantry battalion on the Russian front. In truth, the German army was retreating after vicious fighting in the city of Stalingrad. The Battle of Stalingrad had been a disaster. Heinrich had written him that though the Russians were outnumbered, outgunned, and without supplies, they simply refused to give up.

In the end, the Russians would not be broken. They called upon every able-bodied citizen, including children, women, and old men—anyone able to hold a rifle—and they fought like demons. They made the soldiers of the Reich pay in blood for every plot of soil they took. The German army was now regrouping in the east, while the Russians licked their wounds and prepared to go on the offensive. The führer was considering what to do. The word from London was that the Americans and British were not ready to attempt to retake Europe. They had overwhelmed the German army in North Africa and were on the move against vastly inferior Italian troops in Italy. But for now, the Reich held the bulk of Europe and had only the Russians to contend with. Millions of angry, bloodthirsty Russians who wanted revenge.

But Von Duesen was not yet ready to believe the Reich could be defeated. Their blitzkrieg tactics had earned them control over almost the entire European continent. Setbacks in Africa and Russia were nothing to worry about. Karl was a believer. He always had been. Born in Munich to a wealthy family, he had been a prominent leader in the Hitler Youth movement during his university days. When he graduated he had joined the army. Karl was smart, but more importantly he was cunning. And he had moved up quickly through the ranks. Now he was the youngest officer of his rank in the gestapo. His tall, strong body, cropped blond hair, and intense blue eyes made him a poster boy for the führer’s master race. An Aryan nation that would rule the world.

No. He shook the negative thoughts from his head. The Reich would prevail. Of this he was certain. Adolf Hitler had restored the pride of the German people after the humiliating defeat of World War I. And when they conquered their enemies this time around, a glorious new day would dawn. He was glad to do his part.

“What are my orders, mein general?” he asked.

“The same, Major,” he replied. “The same.”

Von Duesen smiled. Tomorrow he would return to the field. And he would hunt.

Soon, all of Ukraine would be Judenfrei.