The three automobiles and four trucks behind him also extinguished their lights on his cue. Korsch had brought plenty of assistance. He had the feeling this was a big operation, and he wasn’t about to let a single one of the vermin survive the night.

He hadn’t told the milksop sentimentalist next to him any of that, of course. But the girl was a half-Jew herself. They could not let her live any more than the Hebrew mother or the resistance-leading father. If this underling of his was as sharp as he thought, why was he so blind to the obvious with respect to the girl?

There were the trees. Korsch slowed still further, then slowly turned in and began creeping up the steep, curved drive.

Gustav’s lungs were laboring now, his chest feeling an increased tightening grip of fear. He knew before this night was over he would square off face-to-face against Sabina’s father—and either have to kill him or feel a bullet from Korsch’s gun in his own back.

Gustav had never believed in premonitions, but now the reality of this one had seized his entire being in a panic from which he could not hope to escape.

94 Angel of Death

94

Angel of Death

Emil Korsch knew he had set his plan well.

No one would escape alive.

When they had nearly reached the crest, he stopped. He waited about two minutes. That would give the fifteen men in the last truck time to jump down, spread out and quietly encircle the house, then slowly creep up the hill. Every corner, every exit would be guarded by an armed SS trooper. Two of the men carried searchlights, which, as the cars roared up in front, they would turn on to immediately illuminate the entire back of the house. All his men had orders to shoot to kill.

Now!

Korsch thrust the engine into gear and slammed his foot down on the accelerator. With lights blaring the car screamed upward and onto the flat entryway, sending gravel flying in all directions. He careened wildly forward, braking to a stop, headlights pinned against the front door.

It took but a few seconds for each of the other cars and the trucks to likewise skid to a stop.

Amid shouts and openings of doors and the sound of booted feet jumping to the ground and running across the gravel to their positions, within seconds the estate von Dortmann, once proud refuge to those in need, stood bathed in the glaring and ominous light of the Nazi Gestapo’s eyes.

No more would Lebenshaus be a secure hideaway for sojourners in need.

Its secrets had been revealed! The angel of death who now approached vowed that this firstborn Dortmann son would soon know the cost of defying his pharaoh.

Emil Korsch stopped and glanced around at the men under his command.