Authors: Alan Bricklin
Looking at the door perched on its support, and not hearing
any splintering wood, he assumed it would hold, and a closer inspection of the
lower hinges indicated that they looked fairly secure and should help stabilize
the new position. "There's an awful lot of downward pressure on that tire,
and I'm not sure we could slide it, but if we attach that tow chain in the trunk
I'll bet we can pull the door open with the car."
"Very good! That will save us time and effort. And if
that doesn't work maybe we can just pull the whole damn door off."
Larry was already walking to the car and let out a short
laugh. "I like the way you think. Back the car up while I figure a way to
hook up the chain." Since the wheel had stout open spokes this was a
simple procedure involving looping the chain through the openings and fastening
it to the tow ring protruding from the rear of the car frame. Larry made the
assumption that if they slowly moved the tire, the door that rested on it would
go along for the ride rather than the tire simply being pulled out from under
it. He had Eva remain behind the wheel while he picked up the crowbar again and
positioned himself so that he could try to lever the door back into place if it
began to lose its purchase on the tire.
"Let out the clutch very slowly and be ready to stop if
I yell." Eva controlled the car with great competence and it inched
forward, slowly taking up the slack in the chain until it was taught and met
resistance, then fed it more gas, not fully engaging the clutch but letting the
car creep along at a snail's pace. As soon as the door moved enough, Larry
slipped in behind and leaned his weight against it, wedging the crowbar between
the door and the tire under it for added control as it proceeded on its slow
journey. Several times the tire started to get ahead of the door but he was
able to maintain their relative positions during the brief, but seemingly
agonizingly long, sled ride. Finally he shouted, "OK, that's far
enough," and Eva took the car out of gear and killed the motor.
Without any kind of congratulations, or even an
acknowledgement of Larry's skill, she marched over to the opening and peered
inside. Several shafts of light from the afternoon sun shone down through
openings in the roof and walls, and while they illuminated discrete patches of
the floor, the small circles of light did little to reduce the dusk-like
atmosphere inside the cavernous barn. He came up alongside her and motioned her
to follow him. "Let's get inside, our eyes will adjust in a minute, just
don't look back out at the light." They stood there in silence and then
Eva abruptly strode off to the far left corner of the barn where she kicked
some dirt and trampled hay aside to reveal the trap door entrance to the
underground storage cellar.
"Here it is," she cried, turning to Larry, arms
akimbo. She watched him intently and could see his initial surprise change to
relief. After her interrogation of Maria, Eva had realized her faux pas when
she had previously agreed to his statement as to the location of the entrance,
but there was no way to remedy that until now. He might chalk up the episode to
a variety of things, but the bottom line was that she had now demonstrated that
she knew what she was supposed to as Maria. Larry, for his part, was
unfortunately only too glad to ignore it and focus on retrieving the plutonium.
He joined her and the two of them cleaned away the debris that covered the
hatch, a heavy metal ring pull coming into view as the full expanse of the
entrance was exposed.
He bent down, took hold of the handle with both hands and
lifted the top aside, easing it down until it rested on the ground. A wooden
ladder led down into a darkness to which they would never become adapted.
"We'll need a flashlight."
"I brought one with. I knew we would need it. Be right
back."
While she returned to the car, Larry inspected the inside of
the barn. There were a few bales of rotting hay, their binding coming lose and
the straw spreading out along the floor, giving the impression that it was
melting. A few cartons littered the floor, apparently empty, and several broken
tools or implements lay scattered around. Overhead there was a pulley system,
part of a block and tackle for lowering items from the storage loft that rose
above the perimeter, extending outward from the walls and supported by sturdy
uprights positioned around its edge forming a colonnade on the ground level of the
barn. Large nails protruded from some of the supports, and a few held the
remnants of what he thought were equestrian harnesses, the closest one looking
like it was rotting, the leather dry and brittle. He stared down into the
opening below, but although he could see several more rungs of the ladder now
that his eyes were more adjusted to the dim light, the subterranean chamber
itself remained a mystery. The sound of Eva returning caused him to look up,
and he watched as her figure moved from the bright light at the door into the
tenebrous interior, motes drifting aimlessly in the shafts of sunlight that
shone down through the roof, illuminating ellipses of the floor much like
spotlights waiting for some performer to step into their glare.
"Here, let's take a look," she said, handing a
large flashlight to Larry. He squatted on his haunches and aimed the beam first
along the length of the ladder and then onto the floor below, angling the light
in various directions to see as much as was possible from his current position.
"The ladder looks intact, but I don't see very much of
the chamber itself." She was knelt behind him, looking over his shoulders
and silently nodded her assent.
"I'll go down and look around. Hold the flashlight
until I get onto the ladder and make sure it's not rotted out." Standing
up, he relinquished the torch to her before sitting at the edge of the opening
and placing his feet on one of the upper rungs, grabbing hold of the supports
and swinging his weight onto the ladder. He placed each of his feet as close to
the supports as possible, where it was apt to be the most secure if the wood
had been weakened from rot, and held on tightly. The ladder held. He tested the
two rungs above him by yanking on them with one of his hands, then checked the
rung below with one foot before transferring all of his weight. "It seems
to be intact; hand me the flashlight." Proceeding gingerly, his right arm
hooked around the upright support on one side and the flashlight in his left
hand, he eased himself down the ladder, each rung taking his weight without
protest. He paused on the third step from the floor and swung the beam of light
around the storage area, a space that was larger than he had thought, and
numerous boxes, cartons, tools and supplies were scattered about. As he placed
his foot on the next rung, he forgot to position it at the edge, and when he
shifted his weight onto it, there was a sudden snapping sound as the wood split
in the center and dropped him down to the final step, which also buckled under
the impact, his extended leg smashing into the hard packed earthen floor and
his body thrown backward onto the dirt. Sharp pain shot through his knee even
before he hit the floor, and he lay there, the wind knocked out of him, praying
that no bones were broken, no ligaments snapped. The flashlight rolled on the
floor, coming to rest several feet away pointing at his head, his grimaces of
pain lit up for Eva to see from above.
"Shit! Are you hurt, Lorenz?"
"Don't know yet. Give me a minute." He lay there
panting, then moved both his arms, rolled his shoulders, twisted his torso side
to side and alternately flexed and extended his left leg. Finally he cautiously
moved his right leg, gently bending it at the knee. Surprisingly, it didn't
hurt that much, and he was optimistic that there was no serious injury. He
pushed himself to a sitting position and called up, "I don't think
anything's broken. Jammed my knee and got the wind knocked out of me. Hopefully
that's all. I'm going to get up now." Larry rolled to his left into a
squat and started to straighten up. Knife like pain exploded in his leg and the
knee buckled, dropping him once again to the floor.
"What happened?"
"Let me try that again." He slid on his butt to
the ladder where he could hold on for support, then attempted to stand, putting
most of the burden on his left leg. This time it worked and he stood there
holding on while he delicately shifted more weight to the injured leg, a move
that elicited throbbing discomfort but not the paroxysm of agony he had felt
before. Still holding on to the upright, his arm like a tether, he took several
steps along the circumference of the path allowed him. Each step brought a yell
of complaint from his knee, but as he walked back and forth a few times the cry
subsided to mere grousing and after a few minutes he was able to walk
unassisted although somewhat out of kilter due to a pronounced limp.
"Alright, I'm going to take a look around."
"I'm coming down."
"Wait. The last two rungs collapsed. I'll help you, but
first let me have a look-see."
Eva, never one for patience, alternately paced back and
forth, and knelt to see, unsuccessfully, what was in the storage cellar.
Larry slowly turned in a circle, shining the light across
the floor and along the walls, the latter devoid of any appurtenance, made of
stone or some kind of cinder block, and enclosing the space in an unadorned
field of gray. The space itself measured approximately ten meters by five, and
two rows of stout piles ran the length of the enclosure, each about two meters
apart and capped by equally strong looking beams that supported the weight of
the overlying barn floor. At first, he was surprised by the large amount of
items, apparently unmolested, that lay over much of the ground, especially with
the shortages and increasing amount of pilferage that were occurring as the war
worsened for the Germans; but he quickly realized that the hidden entrance had
provided the requisite security. Hobbling around, he saw stockpiles of canned
goods as well as mason jars of preserved food, thoughtfully laid away by some
farsighted farmer, a person whose whereabouts he could only imagine. It was not
unusual, Eva had said, for families in this area to have secondary barns at
some distance from the farm house in which they lived and he supposed that was
the case. They may have relocated or been killed or may at this very moment be
on their way over to check on their provisions. It was the latter scenario that
gnawed at Larry and kept him ill at ease, stimulating him to pick up the pace
of his exploration. In a matter of minutes he had circumnavigated the entire
area without seeing anything that looked like the crate that Schroeder had
described to him, a circumstance he did not find unusual considering its
importance. The General had told him that he received permission from the owner
to store something of great value in his hidden cellar, had paid him in advance
and offered his office for favors and protection if needed. The owner, of
course, could have sold it or removed it for his own purposes, but it seemed
unlikely that a farmer would risk the ire of a general and member of the Nazi
party. What was more probable was that he had added his own levels of
concealment, fearful to risk the loss of something so valuable to a general of
the Wehrmacht.
"Lorenz, what is happening? I am coming down." He
heard her clambering on to the ladder and he limped over to where it met the
floor, shining the flashlight to light her way down, ready to help her maneuver
the final two steps.
"OK, hold up now, these last two are broken." He
put the flashlight down, shifted most of his weight to his good leg and held
out his arm. "Reach down and put your arm on my shoulder, I'll ease you
down." She did as she was told, then stepped off the rung and toppled into
his arms, managing, with catlike dexterity, to make sure his right hand was
firmly planted on her left breast as he lowered her to the ground. The erotic
was second nature to her no matter the situation, and Larry, for his part, was
sure she had deftly positioned her body where she wanted it. Despite his
annoyance at the manipulation, however, he could not prevent the tingle in his
loins as her nipple brushed across his fingers.
"Thank you," she said and picked up the flashlight
that lay at his feet. "Come, this is taking too much time." She
walked off, Larry lurching behind, the beam of the light passing methodically
from one item to the next.
"Hold it!" Larry shouted. She had just illuminated
a number of boxes piled in the far corner and was moving the beam along to the
next few objects. "Shine the light on those cartons you just passed over.
They're piled awfully high; higher than any of the others. Let's see what's
under them." He worked his way over to the mound of boxes and began removing
them, Eva laying the flashlight on top of a nearby pile and coming forward to
help him. Removal of the first layer revealed similar cartons of canned goods,
but like any excavation, the upper strata were generally not the most
revealing. They had lowered the height of the stack about two thirds when Larry
hefted a box out of the way and the surface of a tarpaulin came into view.
"This could be something," he commented, purposely keeping the
excitement he felt out of his voice.
Eva picked up the flashlight and brought it over, focusing
it on the new discovery, certainly nondescript, but unlike anything else they
had found so far. Larry made hasty work of the remaining façade that shrouded
their discovery, Eva shoving several cartons out of the way with her knees and
feet, until the core was disclosed, masked only by the tarp. She hastily
reached out and tore it away, revealing the holy grail of their journey, a gray
wooden crate upon which was stenciled in black the Nazi swastika and
"Norsk Wasserkraftwerk." "That's it," said Larry with
finality, as he sat down on a nearby crate.