When he found it, he eased it on so as to avoid the click of the switch being heard.
The Stermabeitalung lay slumped in the corner, his right leg folded under his left, his head slumped sideways and down. Adam didn't need to see the red hole in the side of his head to know the man was already dead. He still clutched a revolver in his death grip.
Adam knew he was a storm trooper, had recognised him immediately as one of Kaas' Stermabeitalung, brought here to wreak destruction on the politicians of the world. Except someone else had wreaked destruction on him.
Adam searched through his pockets and found a press-pass for the Frankfurter Daily News. He recalled that Kaas had also been with a team of journalists. So that's how they got in. There was nothing else, no further ID, no tags on the clothes. Kaas' men had come in prepared for the worst.
Three left. Including Kaas. Unless one of the others had come to the same fate.
No time to work out why. Got to keep moving, Marcus. Ducking and diving. It's the only way out of trouble.
He listened at the door, and when satisfied there was no-one there, he softly unlocked it and let himself back into the corridor.
There were cheers now from the Chamber. The leaders had entered and were getting the applause of the Bundestag members and the collected guests. Adam went to the end of the corridor and opened the door at the eastern end. Nobody saw him as he slipped onto the viewing gallery. The small crowd was leaning over the balcony, clapping and cheering with those below. Adam stood on tiptoe and looked down. The members of the Bundestag were standing and cheering the two Presidents. In their midst, leading them towards the podium and the two lecterns, was the President of the Bundestag and the German Chancellor. The other leaders of the European nations had moved forward and now stood on the podium behind the two lecterns.
Adam stepped back and looked round the gallery. There was nothing unusual there. He turned to go back into the corridor and take the stairs to the second floor. One of the guests at the far end pulled back from the balcony and turned towards him. He recognised Kragan at the same time that the Nazi saw him.
So the big boys were here. Adam didn't wait, just entered the corridor and climbed up to the second floor. Kragan would have to come after him; Adam knew the real danger came from Curly Top and his men. Except one of them was dead.
The scene on the second floor gallery was a repeat of that of the floor below. He walked behind the crowds, moving fast, checking it out. Nothing unusual, nothing to alarm him. It was too high up anyway. He looked down on the scene again. The two Presidents were taking their places at their individual lecterns. The Bundestag members were in their seats, as were those on the first floor. Up here, this high up, the guests didn't return to their seats. They stayed at the balcony; it was the only way they could watch the ceremony.
Adam heard the President of the Bundestag start to speak, to ask for quiet, to introduce the two most powerful men in the world.
'It is a time of peace,' he said as he opened his introduction. 'A time when people are beginning to come together. When the people of Germany pulled the Wall down with their own hands, they unleashed on the world a glimpse of the future. But the future has to be fought for. It has to be won. Our Germany, this one Germany, can be the symbol of that future. A vision of hope risen from the ashes of the bombs. Sworn enemies, bitter enemies, reaching out to each other as friends. That is our legacy. Our duty. And those gathered in this room will rise to that task.'
Like hell, thought Adam as he looked over the edge, trying to see where the destruction would come from. Wipe this lot out and it's back to the barricades.
The President of the United States walked the final steps to his lectern; the Soviet leader keeping abreast of him to his left. When they had reached their lecterns, the Soviet President sat in the red leathered chair next to his whilst the American leader stood.
Cameras popped, the applause started again and the President of the Bundestag, smiling as a parent with unruly children, waved the gathering quiet once again.
'Two men of destiny,' he continued. 'First, the President of the United States of America.'
The cheers started again, and finally, nearly two minutes later, the American leader started to speak.
Adam had to get down, had to find where they would come from. He left the gallery and went down the stairs at the back, two at a time. If the rehearsal room was anything to go by, it had to be the ground floor, had to be as it was set up at the chalet.
He hit the bottom floor when he heard the first shot. It was distant, through the closed door, but he knew where it had been aimed. Two more shots rang out before he could open the door and enter the Great Hall.
It was pandemonium. Screams, panic, people trampling everywhere. A policeman, his automatic drawn, was shouting at him, ordering him to help control the crowd. Adam ignored him and looked round the Chamber. The shots had stopped. The Presidents were safe, both on the ground with security men on top of them, shielding them from the attackers. One of the officials lay dead behind them, his mouth open in permanent surprise.
Adam looked up and saw a red flag hanging from the top balcony, fluttering its red hammer and sickle at the assembly. As he looked down, he saw Kaas, his face half hidden behind the long lens press camera he had been operating on the first floor. Adam sprinted back to the door and climbed the stairs.
As he came out on the corridor he saw one of the storm troopers at the other end, a gun in his hand. A shot whistled by him as he drew his own automatic and rolled onto the floor, firing as he did so. His second shot knocked the Stermabeitalung down, slicing his face in half.
Still two left, Marcus. Who killed the first one?
He came to his feet quickly and moved down the corridor. He couldn't hear any more shooting, just the distant shouts and panic. Then the door opened at the end and the crowd rushed in, stampeded down the corridor as they fled in terror. Adam stepped back, fought to keep his balance against the rushing tide. Then he saw what had terrified them. The last of the Stermabeitalung appeared at the door, his gun waving in his hand. But he wasn't firing, just fighting to keep on his feet, swaying out of balance. Adam lifted his gun, which further panicked the crowd, and he was knocked down. Then they were past him.
Adam raised his gun again, but never pulled the trigger. The Stermabeitalung suddenly burst forward, as if some giant hand had slammed into his back, and crashed onto the floor. He was dead before he hit it.
Then he felt the cold steel barrel against his temple.
'Drop it,' he heard Kragan say. The bastard had been amongst the fleeing crowd and then had come up behind Adam. And he was suddenly frightened. For the first time in his life the rush of fear coursed through his body. No, Marcus. Not now. And he saw his reason for living. Billie, Billie's sweet face before his eyes.
Kaas came in with two others, rushing through the door where the storm-trooper had just been killed. He'd seen the smaller one before. It was Frick, their leader. The other he didn't recognise. Kaas turned and quickly shut the door into the corridor, locked it with a key he carried.
Adam felt Kragan's gun ease the pressure on his temple.