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Excerpt:
Just as the guards at the checkpoint had earlier done, this pair of torturers sprang to stiff, straight-backed attention.
The sound of their heels clicking together reported like pistol shots, and their voices sang out the "Sieg heil!"
Vommer good-humoredly returned the salute, while Greta made a small nod of her head in acknowledgement.
In their hamlike hands, the torturers still clutched the instruments of their vocation - pliers for one, a long wicked jabbing needle for the other.
As for their victim, she slumped limply on the three-legged wooden stool, gasping for breath, whimpering, too dazed to turn around.
Greta took in the scene with the rapt enjoyment of a child viewing a host of gaily-wrapped presents under the Yuletide tree.
The torturers were an odd pair -- one of them young, neat as a pin, muscular; the other middle-aged, sloppy, beefy.
The young man was correctly uniformed, while the older man had removed his tunic, stripping down to his undershirt above the waist, a beer belly slopping over the tops of his gray trousers.
As for the victim, she was a young woman (not liable to get much older, now that she had been delivered into the dungeons of the Gestapo), a young woman of Greta's age, with reddish-brown hair, with a fine thoroughbred physique.
Her body shook with shivering. It was glossy with cold sweat and white, pale deathly white, with fear and pain.
The victim was naked - naked, that is, but for a curious contrivance which was fastened to her upper body, a kind of metal harness.
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Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2017
Abe Layzer
Copyright © 2017
Table of Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
"For those defilers who dare to desecrate the temples and tombs of the gods, a cruel and unusual destiny shall be theirs!"
BERLIN, 1933:
Clockwork ticking sounded like the throb of a mechanical heart beating in the near-darkness of this astronomical observatory outside Berlin.
Berlin, city of defilers - and never more so than now, when the little corporal from Austria, Adolf Hitler, had recently taken supreme power.
Most nights, graduate assistant Dieter Manheim, a mild, unprepossessing young man in his early twenties, maintained his lonely vigil by himself.
But not this night.
This night, the telescopic platform towering high in the lofty heights of the observatory dome was crowded with guests.
Dieter, who normally held this watch all to himself, was now crowded out of the way, toward the rear of the platform, far from the telescope.
Why, not counting himself, there were half a dozen others on the platform, and a baker's dozen more below, on the metal stairs and landings of the platform.
And a strange crew they were, too!
Peering into the eyepiece of the great-lensed telescope was one of Germany's most distinguished astronomers, Dr. V. T.
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!
