Eva Braun was getting restless. Bormann had rationed her visits to the Führer to twice a week, normally for no longer than an hour and, for the rest of the time, she languished in her tiny, filthy cabin. She resolved that something had to be done and made her way to Bormann’s, prepared for a face-to-face confrontation with the man who was dictating events and controlling her life. A man she sincerely loathed.

The door to Bormann’s cabin was slightly ajar and she knocked twice before entering. Unknown to Braun, he was up on deck, harassing the captain with his daily complaints about the lack of speed on the voyage. He repeatedly reminded Küpper they had a schedule that had to be kept to, no matter how unrealistic it may be, and failure was not an option. The German skipper was left under no illusions as to the consequences of a late arrival in Argentina.

The small wooden table in Bormann’s cabin was covered with typed paperwork, arranged into a number of neat piles. Braun’s curiosity got the better of her and she picked up a handful of papers from the closest one, which were clearly bank statements. The headers revealed the banks were based in South America and some of the bottom-line figures were absolutely staggering. Most of them contained millions of US dollars, and, in two cases, she spotted figures in excess of a hundred million. Her eyes flicked to another pile that contained complex architectural drawings of what she thought was likely to be her new home. She was holding the top sheet high in the air to get a better look when Bormann entered the cabin. He slammed the door and Braun jumped back in surprise, dropping the sheet onto the floor.

“Eva, I don’t appreciate you searching my cabin. As far as I’m aware, we’re not scheduled to meet today.”

Braun could sense large streaks of redness breaking out on her milky complexion and was desperately searching her brain for a suitable reply when Bormann softened his tone. “Anyway, I see you’ve been looking at the designs for the Führer’s new residence.”

She still hadn’t regained her composure and blurted out a bland remark. “It looks amazing, Martin. Will it be ready in time?”

Bormann bent down and picked up the drawing. “My dear, it will indeed be ready. All part of the plan.”

“Martin, all you and the Führer talk about is the plan. Yet neither of you ever discuss it with me. What is it and where do I fit in?”

Bormann pursed his lips and forced them into a crooked grin. “Eva, there is one essential part of the plan that you need to carry out and you cannot afford to fail.”