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The assassin watched as SS-Sturmbannfuhrer Brandt squeezed out of the backseat like an over-ripe melon and tugged on the bottom of his uniform tunic in a futile effort to cover his sagging beltline.
The obese officer barked a command to the SS troopers and plodded toward the warehouse.
At exactly 2200 hours, a flash of headlights swept through the gloom as a long, black auto wheeled around the corner and screeched to a stop behind the trucks.
The driver jumped out and opened the rear door of the powerful German-built Horch.
German artillery units were pounding the Wola District two kilometers to the west, and an acrid, smoky haze hung in the air. A few minutes earlier, two canvas-covered trucks had pulled up in front of the deserted three-story warehouse, and several prisoners wearing black-and-white concentration camp uniforms had jumped out and begun unloading wooden crates.
The lamps along Stawki Street, just west of Warsaw's City Center, had been shot out during the first days of the Rising, but the night sky was illuminated with brilliant, yellowish-white flashes.American Adam Nowak has been dropped into Poland by British intelligence as an assassin and Resistance fighter.During the Warsaw Uprising he meets Natalia, a covert operative who has lost everything—just as he has.The German war machine is in retreat as the Russians advance.In Warsaw, Resistance fighters rise up against their Nazi occupiers, but the Germans retaliate, ruthlessly leveling the once-beautiful city.Brandishing an assortment of weapons, they charged past the stunned prisoners and barged into the warehouse.From inside, shouts in Polish and German —Gunshots —Then it was quiet."Ja, was ist —"The assassin drew the Walther P-38 from the holster and in one smooth motion fired a single shot into Brandt's forehead, then a second into the chest of the driver. The striped-uniformed prisoners dropped the crates and stood ramrod stiff, arms in the air, their faces white with fear.He stepped over Brandt's body and fired two quick shots at the SS troopers, who stood staring at him in frozen astonishment. An instant later, a group of men wearing red-and-white armbands bolted from the shadows of a building across the street.The SS troopers appeared nervous, though this neighborhood was still under German control. He had made sure it was a clean shot to the head so as not to soil the jacket with blood.He wanted to look his best for SS-Sturmbannfuhrer Karl Brandt.