Amber

Epilogue

“Come on in, gentlemen.” Admiral Liptow welcomed Maddock, Bones, Willis and Professor into his office on the third floor of a secure building on base. “Be seated, please.” He waved to four chairs lined up in front of his large, oak desk. The four SEALs sat, Bones setting a backpack on the floor in front of him.

“First of all,” the admiral began, “let me say that I’m glad to see you back safe and sound. From what I understand, things got a little dicey.”

The SEALs nodded but said nothing. The admiral continued.

“And you gathered solid intel. I’ve seen your pictures already,” he said, nodding to an assortment of printouts laid out on his desk, shots of the Wilhelm Gustloff, and of the Amber Room. “Sad to think all this beauty is gone forever, right?” Despite his words, it didn’t look to Maddock like the admiral was all that sad.

“Not quite all of it.” Bones bent down and pulled something from his backpack. Then he lifted it and set it on the admiral’s desk.

The Prussian eagle mosaic from the Amber Room, covered in a layer of dust and sooty ash.

It had a couple of dents here and there that it incurred during Bones’ climb out of the chamber, but by and large it was none the worse for wear. Bones produced a flashlight and demonstrated the “curse” for the admiral by projecting it on his desk. Professor relayed the story about the disgruntled worker during the Amber Room renovations.

The admiral shook his head, smiling. He pointed to the dirty eagle. “So that’s it? That’s all that survived of the Amber Room?”

Maddock nodded. “Except for the legends. I doubt they’ll ever die.”