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a pinboard covered in tables, graphs and charts had been fixed to the wall. The furnishings were good and the information looked important. Kelly seemed to have found the office of a major official.

He walked around to the desk and tried the drawers. They were locked, but a paper knife lay on top of the desk and, using this as a lever, he managed to force open the wooden drawers. One by one he rifled through them, with no idea what he was looking for. Whenever he came across a chart or a diagram, he thrust it into his pocket. In all he accumulated about eight sheets of paper.

He wondered wryly about the information he was collecting. For all he knew all he’d found were statistics produced by the officer in charge of sanitation.

With that thought he decided to try to explore further within the building. Moving towards the door, he opened it a crack and peered out as best he could. The corridor that the door opened into was in darkness, but the wall opposite gave the impression that it was fluorescing. He carefully opened the door wider and quietly crept across the corridor. The wall was in fact a glass panel that looked down onto what could only be a factory floor. It was the lighting from the factory on the glass wall that had given the fluorescent effect Kelly had witnessed.

People were moving about on the factory floor. Kelly darted back against the wall to avoid being seen and was about to step back into the office when it occurred to him that, provided he stayed on the dark side of the corridor, away from the glass, he would be invisible from below.

Cautiously he moved along the corridor until he was in a good position to observe what was happening.

The space below was filled with instrument benches, but the main structures were a series of metal hoppers, suspended from cross beams, with various pipes and gadgets attached. Underneath each of the hoppers was a single demi-john jar, which collected a clear, transparent liquid, possibly water. People were moving about and coming and going, some with millboards, checking instruments and occasionally examining the demi-johns.

Kelly was trying to make sense of this when he heard voices and footsteps coming down an adjoining corridor. Quickly he moved back to the office he had used previously, closing the door behind him, and stood listening, scarcely breathing.

He listened to an exchange of ‘auf wiedersehen’ between two men, followed by one set of receding footsteps. One down, thought Kelly.

Time to go.

He was about to move from his position behind the door to the window with the view of attempting an escape, when the door swung open and a German officer strolled in. He halted abruptly, standing apparently transfixed by the open window, then wheeled about.

His face registered a mixture of shock, fear and horror at what he saw. The open window, the desk with drawers hanging out, papers littering the desk, this creature in his office. He fumbled for his Luger. Kelly leapt forward, kicked the pistol from his hand and smashed a fist into the man’s jaw. The officer spun backwards and thudded against the wall before collapsing in a heap. Kelly, his body on fire with adrenaline, picked up the Luger. Glancing down at the pistol, he identified the safety catch and set it to ‘fire’.

The fallen officer was partly regaining his composure as Kelly pointed the Luger at him. “Sprechen Sie nicht! Bleiben Sie ruhig!” Kelly spat, ordering the officer to remain silent. Frightened though he was, it was obvious that the officer had no intention of obeying his captor. He opened his mouth, clearly about to raise the alarm. Before any sound could be generated, Kelly thrust the Luger into the German’s open mouth, as far it would go to cut off the sound. Whether by design or instinct, the German’s hands flew up to the weapon and clamped around it. Left with no other alternative, Dan Kelly pulled the trigger.

There was a muffled crash and the officer’s head jerked back and away from Kelly. Slowly he slumped down, leaving a trail of blood and gore on the wall as he slid sideways. The look of shock on his face gave way to one of pleading. Then the lights in his eyes went out.

Instinctively, Kelly dropped the Luger and sprang to the window. He was halfway through when he had second thoughts. He scrambled back into the room, picked up the Luger and jammed it into his belt. He hesitated a second more as he surveyed the documents he had collected, now scattered all over the office. No time, he thought. The shot had been partly muffled, but he was certain others would have heard it.

Clambering out onto the ladder he slid down using his hands and feet as guides until he ran out of ladder and fell the last ten or so feet onto the now semi-collapsed snowball.

Picking himself up, he quickly surveyed the area around the building. His best option appeared to be a vehicle compound about fifty yards away. Resisting the urge to run, he stuck his hands in his pockets and sauntered in the general direction of the compound. Stopping at the open gate he surreptitiously looked around and, believing himself to be unobserved, ghosted into the compound and slid under the nearest truck.

By now, the whole plant was alive with clamour. Lights blinked on, people began shouting, footsteps crunched through the snow towards the compound. Kelly eased himself up so that he was clear of the ground, his back resting on the prop shaft of the truck. He searched around with his hands and feet until he found gaps, protuberances, bolts, anything he could use to hold onto.

His heart sank as he heard a general commotion around the vehicle he was wedged under. There was a clatter as the tailgate was dropped and soldiers could be heard clambering aboard. A conversation was taking place

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