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“This is the newly renovated Berghof and the surrounding property the Nazis purchased.”

“They bought all this from the other owners and farmers?”

“Well, they bought it or just took it. Who’s going to say no to Hitler?”

“All right, so this is all Nazi property,” said Bauer. “And you want me to enter it by crossing the Larosbach River?”

“Yes, there’s a bridge right… here.” Von der Haas pointed on the map. “You’ll head toward the compound. The area is mostly wooded. Some shrub and undergrowth. At times you’ll be covered, other times you’ll probably have to crawl. You will reach this spot here, this x that I’ve drawn where these roads intersect, Oberau and the Führerstraße. There is a concrete bypass right there. See where I’ve marked?”

“I see it. But why do I care about being within sight of a concrete bypass?”

“Because at some time between ten and eleven on any given morning, Adolf Hitler will walk across it.”

Bauer drew back, then looked at the map again. “The red dotted line,” he said.

“Exactly. That meandering half circle red dotted line reflects a path Hitler will walk every day he’s at the Berghof. It’s a ritual, rain or shine or snow, any time from ten to eleven in the morning—he walks from the Berghof to the teahouse on the Mooslahnerkopf.”

“I’ve heard of it. The teahouse on the hill.”

“Yes. Sometimes he walks only with his two German shepherds. Other times, he is with guests. They eat tea and cake at the teahouse. Sometimes Hitler gets sleepy, and they drive him back to the Berghof. But he always walks there.”

“So I have to get him on the way there,” said Bauer. “What is this orange line?”

“The orange line is a wire fence. You’ll be on the other side of the fence.”

Bauer shook his head. “So I’ll have to shoot him through a wire fence?”

“You’ll have to cut a hole through it. But not too big a hole, or they’ll notice.”

“That sounds easy!” Bauer threw up his hands. “Okay. So around ten.”

“Yes, but not before then. The RSD runs a dog patrol through there before he takes his walk, so the key is to arrive right around ten, not earlier.”

“And SS patrols,” said Bauer. “I take it the red lines on the map are SS patrols?”

“Yes. They patrol the path routinely. When Hitler walks it, they keep a respectful distance. So you should have a clear shot. But they won’t be far away. And there are sentry towers—one near Göring’s residence here, and a second by the theater hall they are building here.”

“So a lot of visibility.”

“Yes. And some measure of unpredictability. I cannot tell you precisely where the SS patrol units will be at any given time. All I know is that they rarely patrol beyond the wire fence. But that’s not a guarantee, Bauer. And the escape? The escape will be tough.”

Bauer chuckled. “Tougher than the approach?”

“Yes,” said von der Haas. “But not impossible. I have an idea.”

99

AT MIDNIGHT, BAUER AND von der Haas crossed the bridge over the Larosbach River and walked through the wooded area. They again used flashlights covered with blue cloths, no more light than minimally necessary to see their way. They remained constantly on guard for sentries and SS patrols, but the good news was that the patrols would reveal themselves through their flashlights or car lights.

Ten minutes into their slow walk, Bauer saw movement to his left. “Ten o’clock,” he whispered. He raised his gun and turned as a shape rose up.

A sentry emerging from a crouch? Or an animal, a wolf or fox?

A low growl came from the figure. An animal.

Von der Haas raised his weapon as well, but Bauer pushed it down. He picked up a fallen branch and tossed it at the animal. “Go!” he hissed as quietly as he could. The animal turned and sprinted away.

He took a deep breath as his heartbeat decelerated.