Free The Hunt aka 27 by William Diehl Page B

disguise, a soldier and a survivalist, an acrobat. You believe in the Third Reich. And . . you are a killer. Two squads of American Marines in one encounter, correct?”
    He stopped and looked down at I n gersoll.
    “Yes, Führer, that is correct.”
    “Was it difficult? The killing, I mean?”
    Ingersoll stared at him for a few seconds and smiled. “On the contrary, Führer, it was very satisfying,” he said.
    “There, you see,” Hitler said, spreading his arms to his sides. “Unique talents. One of a kind. Did I tell you, Willie?”
    “ Yes, mein Führer, you told me,” Vierhaus agreed, accepting the fact that the plot had suddenly become Hitler’s.
    “Is the Third Reich your dream, 1-lans?”
    “Yes.”
    “The most important thing in the world?”
    “Yes.”
    “More important than your career, even life itself?”
    “Yes!”
    Hitler poured himself another glass of wine. His gaze was riveted to Ingersoll’s. He sipped the wine and leaned forward again and nodded.
    “I believe you. And I believe that if I told you I had an impossible mission to be performed, a mission requiring great personal sacrifice, one which would require giving up your name, your career, your fortune—everything—I do believe that if I asked you to take on such a mission, you would say yes.”
    Ingersoll said nothing. Hitler’s words had put him in a near trance of ecstasy.
    “Even if this mission meant living in a country you detest for years, six, seven, perhaps?”
    Now Hitler leaned closer, his voice a whisper.
    “Even if I tell you this mission is so secret that I cannot tell— even you—what it will be. Only the professor and I will know, until it is time for you to act. Even then I believe you would accept such an assignment.”
    “It would be an honor even to be considered for such a task,” Ingersoll whispered back.
    “Well, Hans Wolfe, so you are. You are the man I want to carry out that mission.”
    Stunned, Ingersoll looked back and forth between the two men.
    Is he serious, he wondered. Is this some kind of a test of my loyalty, my trust in him?
    “There is within the SS a highly guarded unit called Die Sechs Füchse, the Six Foxes. It is headed by Professor Vierhaus. There are only five members, including himself. Each of the other four is a unique individual, like yourself. Each has been given a specific mission to perform. Each is known by a code name known only to Willie and myself. Even Himm l er does not know their identities or their individual objectives. There are no written reports and no records kept by the Six Foxes. The reason is that these missions are so sensitive, so secret, that we cannot afford even the slightest breach of security. The individuals themselves do not know the nature of the assignments. Obviously if they were caught and gave up the secret, that mission would have to be abandoned. And each of these missions is vital to the future of Deutschland.”
    “I understand,” Ingersoll said.
    “The agents of Die Sechs Füchse report only to Vierhaus and he reports only to me. The particular assignment we have in mind for you would, in the event war is imminent with the United States, paralyze their war effort and neutralize them. It would, we are certain, keep the United States out of the war. In other words, Hans, this mission could directly affect the outcome of our struggle . So, if you choose to accept and are su c cessful, you will be the single most important war hero in the history of the Third Reich.”
    Ingersoll’s excitement flooded over. He began to speak but Hitler held up a finger.
    “Before you say anything, Hans Wolfe, you must understand if you accept this job, both Hans Wolfe and Johann Ingersoll must die. You would become a man without an identity. A number.”
    “A number?”
    “Willie ………. Hitler said.
    “You would be known only as Siebenundzwanzig.”
    “Twenty-seven? Why twenty-seven?”
    “You will understand in time,” Vierhaus said. “Between the