Felix was falling. His throat clenched so terror-tight he could not even scream. Shutting his eyes made no difference in his level of fear. There was still darkness and falling, darkness and the cold claws of night against his face. His stomach felt closer to the cabin of the Immelmann IV than to his own body. His heart refused to obey even the most basic laws of survival, starting and stopping and starting again as he fell…
as he fell…
as he fell…
Count out fifteen seconds, then pull the cord.
“One… two…” Felix was moving his mouth, but he couldn’t hear himself. There was the wind roaring past his eardrums, but there were also Baasch’s many instructions. Intricate plan pieces rattling through his head.
Use the Hitler Youth membership badge on your uniform to pick the lock on your cuffs. Then you will free Inmate 121358ΔX. On the wall of the cabin is a red lever. Point it out to the girl, but not too quickly. You’ll want to jump as close to the fourteen-hour mark as possible. Do you have a watch?
So much of what had happened in the past few hours had been staged. From the Immelmann IV’s flight path to their placement in the Führer’s personal cabin to the manageable altitude. It was all part of the SS-Standartenführer’s plan—releasing the rat from the trap.
But Felix’s fear was far from fake. He’d thought he’d do anything for his family. But he knew now—shamefully, without a doubt—that he couldn’t have jumped on his own. If the girl hadn’t pushed him, he’d still be up in the Condor, on his way to Germania and more crushed fingers and the Wolfe family’s gravestoneless fate.
But the girl had pulled Felix to the edge, looked straight into his eyes, and pushed.
For Adele! That was what she’d told him, without even knowing how terribly true it was. How much salvation and damnation there was in her single shove. The Wolfes were safe, but there would be blood. Blood for blood. Blood to pay. An entire world of it.
Salvation, damnation, salvation, damnation.
As he fell…
as he fell…
as he fell…
Count out fifteen seconds. Surely it had been that long! Felix pulled the cord. The parachute released, thin fabric pluming in the night. Its harness cut against Felix’s arms. His world snapped into place.
The moon hung high above, gleaming as bright as Baasch’s Totenkopf. All was silver and dark. Far below he could see the peaked crowns of lush pines. Odd… should there be this many trees?
No. No, no, no… NO!
On the plane, when Felix went to check his watch, he’d found the hands stuck in place. Time stood still, and he’d had no idea when it had stopped. Five hours ago? Eight? Three? They’d already been flying for so long.
That was the moment the Immelmann IV started to tilt back to earth. That was the moment when Felix feared that Germania was only minutes away. Their fourteen hours was up, and it was Now or never!
But Germania—its sparkling collection of monuments, the thunderous curve of the Volkshalle’s dome—was nowhere to be seen. The ground was lightless; velvet dark wilderness rolled out for kilometers. Not a farm or a town in sight. Just trees upon trees upon trees.
They’d jumped too soon.
To the distant right and far left, Felix spied the other escapees’ parachutes. The lives of Luka and the girl hung by threads, just a few centimeters of fiber between them and drop, fall, death.
All of this reminded Felix that he was still falling. Still suspended in a place no man should be.
What would happen when he reached the ground?