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Turning about he entered the house. Herman appeared at once and bowed. Stan followed him into Domber's library. A table had been set before an open fire. Domber was seated in an easy chair, puffing on a cigar. "Have a pleasant stroll in the garden?" he asked. "You certainly requisitioned a nice place for yourself," Stan remarked. "Oh, I have owned this for years," Domber said. "This is my home."
Domber leaned into the cockpit. Stan pointed to the valve. His fingers closed over it and began to turn it. Then his right arm shot out. His fingers gripped Domber's yellow tie. The Dutch Quisling's eyes bulged and he pulled back. In that instant the Allison surged into full, smooth power. Stan kicked down on one brake and snapped her around.
The guards saluted as Domber got out. He puffed up like a pouter pigeon and shouted: "Heil Hitler!" They walked up the steps and entered the house. A man met them in the vestibule. He took Domber's hat and cane and stared at Stan. "See that Lieutenant Wilson is furnished a complete outfit of clothing. Show him to the east room." Domber spoke in English. "Yes, Herr Domber," the man said and bowed.
"Certainly," Stan said and laughed. He might as well live high while he could live. As they went out to enter Domber's car, Stan asked, "Why do you go to all of this fuss? I can't understand you Germans. There was a lot of fuss in planning to let us escape. Now you are putting on a big show for me. You could get results without it." "We have much humor," Domber said.
Domber's face was red and his mouth was screwed into a snarl. Suddenly Stan felt sorry for Swen. He nodded to Hans as he climbed up. Looking down he saw the mechanics with their bulging coveralls crowding in close. Several of them had ripped their suits open and had their hands inside. Stan eased back against the shock pad. The left brake was the one to kick down hard.
When will you wish to try it out?" "Tomorrow afternoon," Stan said. "If you worked tonight you could try it out in the morning?" Domber suggested with a leer. "Yes, I guess so," Stan said. "Fine. I know you won't mind working tonight." "Of course not," Stan said and felt an itch to lay his fist against Herr Domber's receding chin. "You will honor me by having dinner with me tonight?"
The common people of Germany might be eating poorly and tightening their belts, but Herr Domber's table gave no hint of lack of supplies. There was real coffee, strong and black, fruit, fish, fresh vegetables and a roast squab for each diner. Stan put aside all unpleasant thoughts and ate heartily. While they ate, Herr Domber kept up a steady conversation. He talked about fighter planes.
You are a very capable man, Lieutenant Wilson." "You flatter me," Stan said smoothly. "But how are you going to get back to Germany?" "Don't try to stall for time. I have killed your pals, Allison and O'Malley, the idiotic Irishman. Now it is your turn. I shall break a container of Herr Domber's gas in this room before I lock you in." "Is that the way you killed Allison and O'Malley?" Stan asked.
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