Ghost Flight

74

The Ju 390’s rear cargo hatches turned out to be typical pieces of solid German engineering. On either side were double doors around six feet in height, which opened outwards. They were fastened by twin metal bars that ran the length of their centre, slotting into holes in the floor and ceiling.

The hinges and locking mechanism looked well greased, and Jaeger figured they should move easily. He applied force to one of the levers, and it barely creaked as he pulled it upwards, freeing the doors. He put his weight against them, and the next moment they swung wide. The instant they did so, the thick sludge of mist that clung to the aircraft’s interior began to leak into the open.

Jaeger was surprised to see that it appeared to be heavier than air. It poured out of the aircraft, snaking to the ground and pooling like a dense toxic soup. When a shaft of sunlight hit the gas cloud, it appeared to glow from the inside with a strange metallic shimmer.

It reminded Jaeger that he had been also tasked to carry out some tests, to establish the source of the toxicity emanating from the warplane. He had been so caught up in the search it had almost slipped his mind.

But time enough for that later.

Right now he was burning up, and he needed a few minutes’ breather and some air. He took a seat on one side of the open doorway, Narov taking up a position opposite him. From the corner of his eye he could see Dale filming away, as he tried to suck every last frame of this awesome discovery into his camera lens.

By the light streaming in through the open hatch Jaeger noticed what looked like a picture of a MANPAD stencilled along one side of a nearby crate. He bent to inspect it. Sure enough, it showed what appeared to be a shoulder-launched surface-to-air missile.

Narov traced the lettering running along the crate’s side. ‘Fliegerfaust. It means literally “pilot fist”. The world’s first shoulder-launched surface-to-air missile, to shoot down Allied warplanes. Again, thankfully, it came too late to make much of a difference to the outcome of the war.’

‘Surreal…’ Jaeger muttered. ‘So many firsts… It’ll take an age to catalogue all the secrets lying around in here.’

‘What exactly is so surprising?’ Narov asked, as she stared out into the white bones of the dead jungle. ‘That the Nazis had such technology? They had this and so much more. Search that warplane fully, and who knows what else it may reveal.’

She paused. ‘Or is your surprise that this aircraft is in American markings? The Allies supported the Nazis’ efforts to relocate their weaponry – their Wunderwaffe – to the far-flung corners of the earth. By war’s end we were facing a new enemy: Soviet Russia. It was a case of the enemy of my enemy is my friend. The Allies gave their blessing at the highest level to those Nazi relocations – hence why this aircraft is in USAF colours. The Allies – the Americans – owned the skies by then, and none would have made it through otherwise.

‘By war’s end it was a race against the Russians,’ Narov continued. ‘By seizing for ourselves the Nazis’ secrets – their technology and their foremost scientists – we were able to win the Cold War, not to mention the space race. Back then, that was how we justified it all.’

‘We?’ Jaeger interjected. ‘But you’re Russian. You said it yourself – by the end of the war you were the enemy.’

‘Of me you know nothing,’ Narov muttered. She was silent for a long moment. ‘I may sound Russian, but my blood is British. I was born in your country. Before that, my distant heritage is German. And now I live in New York. I am a citizen of the free world. Does that make me the enemy?’

Jaeger shrugged, half apologetically. ‘How was I to know? You’ve told me zero about yourself or—’

‘Now is hardly the time,’ Narov interjected, gesturing at the Ju 390’s cargo hold.

‘Fair enough. Anyway, keep talking – about the warplane.’

‘Take for example the Mittelwerk underground facility,’ Narov began again, picking up her thread. ‘In early May 1945, American forces overran it, and the first V-2 rocket systems were shipped out to the US. Just days later, Soviet army officers arrived to take over the complex: it lay within the Soviet zone of occupation. The American Apollo moon landings were built upon those V-2 technologies.

‘Or take Kurt Blome, the director of the Blitzableiter. One reason the Nazis’ biological weapons programme was so advanced was that they had thousands of concentration camp victims to test them on. At war’s end, Blome was captured and put on trial in Nuremberg. Somehow he was acquitted, after which the Americans hired him to work for their Army Chemical Corps, on a top-secret weapons programme.

‘We cut deals,’ Narov announced, unable to keep the bitterness out of her voice. ‘And yes, we cut deals with those who were unspeakable – the very worst of the Nazis.’ She eyed Jaeger. ‘You have never heard of Operation Paperclip?’

Jaeger shook his head.

‘It was the Americans’ code name for a project to relocate thousands of Nazi scientists to the US. There they were given new names, new identities, plus positions of power and influence – as long as they would work for their new masters. You had a similar programme, only with typical British irony you named it Operation Darwin: survival of the fittest.

‘Both projects were completely deniable,’ Narov continued. ‘Operation Paperclip was denied even to the level of the US president.’ She paused. ‘But there were layers of deniability that went even deeper. Aktion Adlerflug – Operation Eagle Flight – it is stamped on every one of the packing crates in this aircraft’s hold. Aktion Adlerflug was the codename for Hitler’s plan to relocate Nazi technology to places where it could be used to rebuild the Reich. It was a project that we – the Allies – endorsed, as long as they worked with us against the Soviets.

‘In short, you are sitting aboard a warplane that lies at the heart of the world’s darkest ever conspiracy. Such was – is – the secrecy involved that most of the British and American files related to this activity – not to mention the Russian files – remain closed. And I doubt they will ever be opened.’

Narov shrugged. ‘If all of this surprises you, it really should not. The supposed good guys cut a deal with the devil. They did so out of what they believed was necessity – for the greater good of the free world.’