The engine suddenly rumbled beneath him and revved. Then with some jerking and juddering, daylight started to stream in through the window. They were outside.

Oliver leapt up and looked out the back. The sight that confronted him sent icicles down his spine.

1940s Germany was filled with swastikas.

CHAPTER THIRTY ONE

Oliver gasped at the sight through the window. On every gray building hung a flag with a swastika. On every road sign, on every car window. It was like a jubilee, but instead of colorful bunting there were flags with the hateful symbol upon them. Oliver swallowed, anguished by the sight of them, by the sea of red and black.

The streets were more or less empty, with just a few passing cars and other military trucks. Oliver watched as they drove through a checkpoint manned by the German army and past a truck at the side of the road with soldiers standing beside it, guns at the ready. He felt sick at the sight of it all.

He tore his gaze from the window, turning back to the bomb. He would have to make a decision, take a risk. If he chose the wrong wire the bomb would explode and the world would end. But if he did nothing, Hitler would detonate the bomb and the world would end anyway.

Oliver tried to approach the bomb, but the truck was jostling him too much. He was flung sideways as the truck made a sharp left turn, falling to his knees painfully. No sooner had he drawn himself to his feet than another sharp turn flung him to the floor again. Beneath him, speed bumps made him bounce up and crash back down. His teeth crunched together, over and over, as the truck careened over them.

Then suddenly they stopped. Oliver hauled himself to standing and hurried to the window. Theyd reached an imposing-looking gray building, surrounded by barbed wire. Oliver realized with dread that this could be none other than Hitlers headquarters.

The truck began to move again, passing them through the checkpoint. Guard towers cast dark shadows over everything. Oliver gazed up at them, trembling at the sight of the heavily armed soldiers patrolling back and forth upon them.

Then the truck shuddered to a final stop, the sound of its engine cutting out. It was too late. Theyd arrived. Time was up and Oliver hadnt had a chance to pull a wire. He hurried to hide behind the crate, some instinct of self-preservation forcing him to flee rather than be caught.

He heard the sound of scraping metal as the back doors of the truck were opened from the outside. He peeped out from his hiding place and saw, with terror, a very familiar face. A face known and feared by every human on the planet. Hitler.

CHAPTER THIRTY TWO