Jody did so, gently, and the car started back. His right arm across his chest, his hand on the steering wheel, Herbert turned around. He guided them along the rough-hewn path, through the trees, as the orange glow of the fire flashed dully on the rear window.

Bullets clanged against the front of the car, but with less force than before. They were shooting through the fire, blindly, as somebody shouted for everyone to calm down.

Chaos on Chaos Days, Herbert thought with some satisfaction. Feuer stopped by fire.

The ironies would have been delicious if he had time to savor them.

The car continued to move backward. The steering was awkward and they jerked on the broken front wheels and slammed the occasional tree as they retreated. Soon, the camp was just a glow reflected against the low-lying clouds of the evening sky. Herbert was beginning to think that they might actually get out of the woods alive.

And then the car died.

CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

Thursday, 9:14 P.M.,

Wunstorf, Germany

Karin Doring coolly brushed away the fiery beads of gas which rained down on her. Her mind was on the cowardly behavior of her followers, but she refused to allow that to distract her. Like a fox, her eyes were on her prey. She watched the retreating car through the flame and smoke, through the rushing, tumbling mass of her followers.

Clever man, she thought bitterly. No headlights. He was backing away, driving by the dull glow of his braking lights. And then those lights went off. The SA dagger dangled from her belt hook by its metal clasp. The gun she held would be for the man. The dagger: that was for the girl.

Manfred grasped her shoulder from behind. "Karin! We have wounded. Richter needs your help to restore--"

"I want those two," she sneered. "Let Richter deal with the bedlam. He wanted to lead. Let him."

"He can't lead our people," Manfred said. "They won't accept him yet."

"Then you do it."

Manfred said, "You know they'll only march into Hell for you."

Karin rolled her shoulder to throw off Manfred's hand. Then she turned on him, her expression feral. "Into Hell? They scattered like cockroaches when the American turned on them. They were beaten back by one man in a wheelchair with only an hysterical girl to help him! They shamed me. I shamed myself."

"All the more reason to put the incident behind us," Manfred said. "It was a fluke. We let down our guard."

"I want revenge. I want blood."

"No," Manfred implored. "That was the old way. The wrong way. This is a setback, not a defeat--"

"Words! Bullshit words!"

"Karin, listen!" Manfred said. "You can rekindle the passion another way. By helping Richter lead us all to Hanover."