"James Rollins - Black Order" - читать интересную книгу автора (Romeyn Henry)

middle, four of the largest men, former Nordsee dockmen, bore poles on their shoulders, bearing aloft
massive crates.
There was a reason the Russians were striking this lone city deep in the Sudeten Mountains between
Germany and Poland. The fortifications ofBreslau guarded the gateway to the highlands beyond.
For the past two years, forced labor from the concentration camp of Gross-Rosen had hollowed out a
neighboring mountain peak. A hundred kilometers of tunnels clawed and blasted, all to service one secret
project, one kept buried away from prying Allied eyes.
Die Riese...the Giant.
But word had still spread. Perhaps one of the villagers outside the Wenceslas Mine had whispered of the
illness, the sudden malaise that had afflicted even those well outside the complex.
If only they'd had more time to complete the research...
Still, a part of Jakob Sporrenberg balked. He didn't know all that was involved with the secret project,
mostly just the code name: Chronos. Still, he knew enough. He had seen the bodies used in the
experiments. He had heard the screams.
Abomination.
That was the one word that had come to mind and iced his blood.
He'd had no trouble executing the scientists. The sixty-two men and women had been taken outside and
shot twice in the head. No one must know what had transpired in the depths of the Wenceslas Mine...or
what was found. Only one researcher was allowed to live.
DoktorTola Hirszfeld.
Jakob heard her sloshing behind him, half dragged by one of his men, wrists secured behind her back.
She was tall for a woman, late twenties, small breasted but of ample waist and shapely legs. Her hair
flowed smooth and black, her skin as pale as milk from the months spent underground. She was to have
been killed with the others, but her father, Oberarbeitsleiter Hugo Hirszfeld, overseer of the project, had
finally shown his corrupted blood, his half-Jewish heritage. He had attempted to destroy his research
files, but he had been shot by one of the guards and killed before he could firebomb his subterranean
office. Fortunately for his daughter, someone with full knowledge of die Giocke had to survive, to carry
on the work. She, a genius like her father, knew his research better than any of the other scientists.But
she would need coaxing from here.
Fire burned in her eyes whenever Jakob glanced her way. He could feel her hatred like the heat of an
open furnace. But she would cooperate...like her father had before her. Jakob knew how to deal with
Juden, especially those of mixed blood. Mischlinge. They were the worst. Partial Jews. There were some
hundred thousand Mischlinge in military service to the Reich. Jewish soldiers. Rare exemptions to Nazi
law had allowed such mixed blood to still serve, sparing their lives. It required special dispensation. Such
Mischlinge usually proved to be the fiercest soldiers, needing to show their loyalty to Reich over race.
Still, Jakob had never trusted them. Tola's father proved the validity of his suspicions. The doctor's
attempted sabotage had not surprised Jakob. Juden were never to be trusted, only exterminated.
But Hugo Hirszfeld's exemption papers had been signed by the fuhrer himself, sparing not only the father
and daughter, but also a pair of elderly parents somewhere in the middle of Germany. So while Jakob
had no trust of the Mischlinge, he placed his full faith in his fuhrer. His orders had been letter specific:
evacuate the mine of the necessary resources to continue the workand destroy the rest.
That meant sparing the daughter.
And the baby.
The newborn boy was swaddled and bundled into a pack, a Jewish infant, no more than a month old.
The child had been given a light sedative to keep him silent as they made their escape.
Within the child burned the heart of the abomination, the true source of Jakob's revulsion. All of the
hopes for the Third Reich lay in his tiny hands— the hands of a Jewish infant. Bile rose at such a thought.
Better to impale the child on a bayonet. But he had his orders.
He also saw how Tola watched the boy. Her eyes glowed with a mix of fire and grief. Besides aiding in
her father's research, Tola had served as the boy's foster mother, rocking him asleep, feeding him. The