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“No results, huh?” Sam drank half the glass, placing the tumbler down on the fine deep brown table. Apparently, no one was worried about damaging the polish. “It turns out that when you send all your Jewish scientists to concentration camps, it slows down your research.”

She gave him a stiff smile in acknowledgement. “In the spring of 1945, American troops raced through the area where the program had been moved. There, they captured or destroyed a lot of paperwork, equipment, and a prototype nuclear reactor — all which they brought back to Oak Ridge. By August, the Manhattan Project had developed the technology needed to make Little Boy with which we used to bomb Hiroshima, and Fat Boy, which we dropped on Nagasaki. Do you know anything about Die Koloratursoubrette?”

“No, ma’am, nothing whatsoever.”

The secretary pushed to her feet and began to pace back and forth on that blue carpet, a floor that had been trod in worry many times over the years. She said, “On April 22, 1945, Colonel Boris Pash commanded the Alsos Mission — an Allied team of military, scientific, and intelligence personnel to determine enemy scientific developments during World War II and specifically, the progress of the German nuclear energy project — after rendezvousing with the 1269th Engineer Combat Battalion at Freudenstadt, crossed the intact bridge at Necker River in Horb, and set his eyes on the small German town of Haigerloch.”

“I’ve heard of Haigerloch. Didn’t they find the remains of an experimental nuclear reactor in an old barn there?”

“Hidden in the beer cellar of a castle in the small south German town of Haigerloch, to be exact,” the Secretary of Defense corrected. “As you can guess, the team dismantled the machine and took it back to Oak Ridge, where the scientists from the Manhattan Project reverse engineered some of its specifications to overcome their own barriers.”

Sam nodded. “I’m sure I read about it somewhere, years ago.”

“What you probably didn’t read about though, was that when Colonel Boris Pash finally captured Werner Heisenberg at his retreat in Urfeld, on May 3, 1945, he discovered a set of plans for a fully functional nuclear weapon.”

“Germany had engineered a functioning nuclear bomb?”

“Yes. They beat us to its development by nearly six months. If it wasn’t for the luck of a fire in Haigerloch, which destroyed their heavy water reserves, Germany would have been able to produce multiple nuclear weapons. Just think what sort of outcome that would have meant for the Allies in World War II? We might be living in a very different world.”

“A horrifying thought.” Sam shook his head. “What’s this all about, ma’am?”

The Secretary of Defense answered without hesitation, “There’s a young man, named Alex Goodson.”

“I don’t know that name, either, ma’am.”

Her lips formed a curt smile. “One day, he’s nobody special — a computer geek who likes to play video games, a young man placed on the high-functioning end of the Autism spectrum. He’s bright, antisocial, but not a big achiever.”

“Go on.”

“The next day, his father dies, and he’s called to Manhattan — an inauspicious and rather ominous name in this case — as sole beneficiary of a will. Not his father’s will, but his grandfather’s. His grandfather was a German immigrant originally named Wilhelm Gutwein who changed his name to William Goodson when he arrived here during World War II, using forged papers.”

Sam raised his eyebrow in incredulity. “Running from the Nazis?”

“No. Not at all. He arrived here in a plane, a Focke-Wulf 200S Condor.”

“Wait a sec, I’ve heard of the Condor.” Sam closed his eyes trying to remember what he’d read about the unique aircraft that seemed so familiar to him. “That’s right, wasn’t it a big plane used in trans-Atlantic travel before the war? The Germans converted them into bombers.”

The secretary replied, “That’s right, Sam. He was sent here by the Germans on January 12, 1945, on a mission to bomb Washington, D.C. His cargo was a unique weapon, one that had never been used before.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” Sam swallowed. “Are you telling me the Germans had nuclear bombs before the end of World War II?”

“Bomb. Singular.” The Secretary of Defense stopped pacing and gave Sam a level-eyed stare. “That’s exactly what I’m saying, Sam. Alex Goodson has just discovered, via his grandfather’s will, that his progenitor was a German pilot trying to attack the United States with an experimental nuclear bomb.”

Sam shook his head. “I can’t believe it.”

“It gets worse.”

“Go on.”

“Our recent intelligence is that the bomb arrived in the country, but obviously, didn’t explode.”

Sam’s skin went cold. “So, it’s still sitting out there, somewhere?”

The secretary put her hand over her face for a moment and sighed. “A few days ago, Alex Goodson posted a topographic map online, which he’d found in his grandfather’s journal. In the image the site of the wreck was identified with a small note stating a German bomber plane crashed here in 1945. Next to that, he posted a simple question, anyone know where this place is? Within a few hours, the first treasure hunters had started their search. By the next day there were hundreds, exploring the region for the lost aircraft.”

“Do we have an operation on site?”

“Yes. There’s a specialist team from the 832nd Ordnance Battalion US Marine Corps out of Fort Lee, Virginia, there now. All the treasure hunters and residents have been removed.”

“Have they found anything?”

“A wrecked Condor, buried deep within the Maryland Gold Mine, located near the Great Falls of the Potomac.”

“And,” Sam paused, cleared his suddenly dry throat. “Did they find the bomb?”

“Not yet. They’re still searching the wreck.”

The phone started to ring on her desk. She strode over, picked it up. “What did you find?” The question came out as hard and fast as machine gun fire.

After a brief, one-way conversation, she said, “I understand,” and hung up the phone.

Sam stood up. “What is it? Did they locate the bomb?”

“No. It had already been moved. The wreckage was located, including an empty bomb bay.”

“So, the bomb was dropped — Lord knows where — it didn’t go off, and has remained hidden in some old building, junk yard, or in someone’s back yard?”

“No. Its cradle had been carefully dismantled manually and the bomb transported. We searched the crash site. No sign of radiation was discovered.”

“What was it, then? Some other type of weapon?”

“I misspoke,” the secretary said. “No signs of the bomb’s physical components were found. Geiger-counter tests show that the bomb had been there at some point. It gave off radiation.”

Sam shook his head again. “What are you telling me?”

“I’m telling you that someone beat us to the bomb, Sam.” The Secretary of Defense sighed, heavily. “And now we have a Broken Arrow right here within the vicinity of Washington, D.C.”

Chapter Five

A Broken Arrow was an unexpected event that involved nuclear weapons or nuclear components, resulting in the accidental launching, firing, detonating, theft, or loss. To date the U.S. Department of Defense has officially recognized thirty-two Broken Arrow incidents, with the revelation about this latest one making it thirty-three.

Sam felt bile rise in his throat.

On top of the seven-hundred-thousand permanent residents of the capital city, Congress was currently in session. There was little doubt in his mind about the intended target if a terrorist organization possessed a working nuclear weapon.