Blood Eagle
Chapter One
EAST BERLIN
AUTUMN 1951
Bruno Winterhalter swore softly to himself as he squirmed his stocky body deeper
into the dripping concrete crawlway, lit only by the underpowered electric torch he
pushed ahead with his right hand. Marta did not like him to swear, but she was not here,
and he did not like this place.
He was alone, deep beneath the Potsdammer Platz, following a maze of old
electric cable, his tools in the worn leather holster he had hitched around into the middle
of his back. There was a little stale, greasy water in the bottom of the concrete conduit,
and his belly and thighs were already soaked from it. He shivered and wrinkled his nose
at the musty, oppressive stench of the place. It was an ogre's lair, he thought, a tomb, a
dank place where neither sunshine nor fresh air had ever come. He sighed, and pulled
himself forward another three meters.
He knew he had to be close to the wall of the bunker. Scheissen! he murmured.
Shit, I wonder what evil things are ... read full excerpt from Blood Eagle ebook
