CHAPTER I


                         THE GHOSTS OF THE GENERAL STAFF



Location- Berlin, Germany

The discovery of hitherto unknown documents in the bowels of the German archives revealing a location thought to have been established by the Science Division of the SS has caused a stir in historical circles. It is possible that this facility, hidden on the Courland Peninsula in Latvia, could contain clues to the Science Division's secret research bunker and he trove of loot within. 


Access to the records building is forbidden without the permission of the German Cultural Ministry. 

If you have an invite, it's simply a matter of following your guide to the basement where the records of the Wehrmacht's Army Group North is stored in Halle 13C. Invites are not particularly difficult to obtain, but the Germans do check before issuing one.

 Otherwise you'll have to either break in at night or seduce, impersonate or bribe a guard or employee. 

Being a government building the records department has impressive security systems including alarms, tripwires, and cameras. It is patrolled by officers of the Berlin police, who are armed with batons, pistols, and pepper spray.









Tom Carson craned his neck to look up at the buildings around him as the taxi came to a halt outside the German cultural ministry. Thanking the driver in his stiff German Carson stepped from the taxi and made  his way to the entrance. 
The man behind the desk inside greeted him with a smile. "Good evening, sir. How can I be of assistance?" 

Carson rummaged inside his coat. "I'm Captain Carson, I have an appointment to view some of the contents of of your archives for a book I am writing."

"Very good, sir." The receptionist said after checking his log. "Herr Apfel will be along shortly. May I see some ID?"

Barely had Carson shown his passport Herr Apfel arrived. "Mr. Carson? I am Ferdinand Apfel. Please follow me, I will show you the way."

Carson nodded and walked towards the lift, Apfel spouting pleasantries. 




[@Simple Unicycle]


Three vehicles pulled up at the loading bay of the Records Building. Two grey Audis escorted a Mercedes van, looking very much like a prisoner transport. The guard at the kiosk inspected their papers before hitting the controls to open the door and let them in. They swept through and stopped in the bay, disgorging a phalanx of dark-suited men wearing ear mics. Theodore 'Theo' Becker, second in command of the Berlin section of Talon Corporation, stepped from the lead Audi as a grey-haired German police officer approached. 

"Theo, old friend, it is good to see you." the officer said, shaking Becker's hand. 
"It is, Karl, it is." Becker responded. "So we are clear to proceed? No interference?" 

The policeman shrugged. "You know I can't give you a certainty for that kind of thing. Keep things quiet. You should be able to find what you're looking for and get out without problems. If you make a racket...all bets are off." Becker nodded at his men. "Get the little shit out here." 

Two Talon troopers emerged from the van, dragging Don Richardson along with them. Becker pointed to the policeman. "You see that, Richardson? We got the cops on our side, too. Don't fuck me about, or you'll be sorry. You find us the rest of those co-ordinates, and we stay friends. Got it?"