In his quarters Hitler, his tunic unbuttoned, sat at his desk, listening to Wagner music on a hi-fi powered by a generator running in a room below. Fitted on Hitler's hands were two glove puppets--Stalin and Hitler--pummeling each other while Hitler refereed.

In the jungle thicket McKay, Diego, Ringawa, and their eager mercenaries tensely waited for the first signs of light, and the first sound of aircraft approaching.

At the picnic table in front of Gebäude Ein, Kegel and Dorsch sat playing a game of cards. Other Nazis moved about on the grounds, some heading for Gebäude Zwei to get ready for another day's sleep.

Near the table Hi idly paced. He had spent most of the night with the Führer after dinner, discussing those damnable memoirs. Hitler wouldn't yield on even the most ridiculous points, such as his contention that the British had secretly asked Nazi Germany to bomb them, to help test their air defenses. Now, as dawn neared, Hi had ostensibly been watching the Obergruppenführers' card game, but his eyes kept moving eastward, looking for those first rays of light, then westward, for some garlic from Canutama, then eastward again, where some buddies from Nova Dolencia, he hoped, were lurking in the foliage. Hi was worrying, too, about Eva and the Countess. They had to be out of Neuanfang before the garlic arrived. And it damn sure better arrive, Hi thought, because so far the dragon's blood was having no visible effect at all.

Kegel was in a good mood--and not because he was winning the card game, which he always did. He had a date scheduled later with the Countess. He had been to see Müller about his blood type. Müller told him that it didn't matter, that vampires could suck any type. Kegel said that nonetheless he had to know what his was. Müller, who didn't want to be bothered--he was waiting for the effect of D.P.E. to kick in--told Kegel that the answer was simple. All members of the master race, Müller said, were Type A Plus. Kegel marveled, saying, "You learn something new every day."

Dorsch was mad, and not because of the card game. He had been mad ever since dinner. "Dim-witted twits. That's what he called us," Dorsch grumbled, studying another bad hand. "Did you hear, Kegel? We are dim-witted twits."

As he was listening, Hi saw it: the first glow of sunrise behind the black wall of jungle.

"Don't take it so personally, Dorsch," Kegel said. "You will soon be going to Lima. Be glad."

"Bah! To travel means having to scavenge, not knowing where your next meal is coming from."

"Then may I go in your stead?"

" 'Dim-witted twits,' " Dorsch mumbled.

Kegel suddenly noticed with amazement that Dorsch, unawares, had smoke coming out of his ears.

"Obergruppenführer, you are fuming," Kegel said.

"Of course I am fuming. Shouldn't you be?"

Hi, his eyes on the dawning light, suddenly turned, realizing what he had heard. He saw Dorsch smoking, beginning to gasp, and Hi couldn't help smiling.

Hi heard a man scream, turned, and saw the Hauptsturmführer come stumbling out of Gebäude Drei. The Nazi was bleeding from mouth, nose, and ears. He was shaking, smoking, and screaming. Then, as the Hauptsturmführer fell to his knees, other screams of agony on the compound began.

Kegel, dumbfounded, rose from the table. He, too, was beginning to smoke. "Mein Führer!" he yelled, in sudden searing pain. All over the compound SS men, some just having landed from the night's bat patrol, were bleeding, screaming, and falling. Hi had the impression that the first light of day helped hasten the extract's effect.

As Kegel rushed unsteadily for Gebäude Ein, Hi watched Dorsch begin to bloat where he sat, his immobilized body slowly bursting open, blood pouring from his massively rupturing flesh.

Hi turned and ran for Gebäude Zwei and his gas mask. The planes, if they came, wouldn't know if they were needed or not. According to plan, they would dust first and ask questions later.

Hitler, oblivious to the screaming outside as Wagner music filled the chamber, was still refereeing his puppet fight when Kegel came bursting--literally--in. Hitler rose to his feet at the horrid sight, as swollen Kegel, bleeding and choking, staggered to the desk. Hitler, with no time to get rid of the puppets, hoped Kegel wouldn't notice them.

"Mein Führer," Kegel croaked like a frog, bloating, expanding--then suddenly exploding, in a red blur of blood and flesh.

Hitler looked around in amazement. Just as Hickenlooper had dreamt, Kegel had filled his quarters with a thousand bloody pieces of himself. There were even bits all over Hitler, his coat stained with blood.

"Kegel!" shouted the Führer, "is this some kind of joke?"

Hi, gas mask in hand, rushed into Eva's quarters. He hustled Eva and the Countess to the door. "Get out of here fast. Head for the jungle. Go east, away from the compound."

The Countess headed out, but Eva said, "Hi, let me stay. There must be some way I can help."

"You can help by getting away, so I'll know that you're safe." Hi grabbed her by the arm. "God knows what'll happen when that garlic gets here. Now let's go."

That garlic had McKay in a bind. It was dawn. He and his men could hear screaming from the compound, and a commando was dispatched through the several yards of thick jungle between their position and the clearing for a look. But the garlic wasn't there yet.

"What do you think?" Diego asked. "We better go in."

"You're damn right," said Ringawa. More screams from the compound.

"It could be a Nazi trick," one commando warned.

"Yeah, these are vampires, man," said another.

"Where's that damn garlic?" said a third.

McKay had to decide. He looked at his watch. "We'll give it two minutes to get here."

"We gotta go in!" Ringawa yelled at him.

"Disobey me," McKay warned Ringawa, "and I'll have your golden locks shorn."

The commando dispatched to the clearing peeked out wide-eyed from the thicket. Several Nazis, dead or dying, lay around on the compound in big pools of blood. The commando saw a striking woman in red hurrying in his general direction, while behind her another woman, who appeared to be Eva Perón, stopped and looked back.

Meanwhile Hi rushed into the Weinberg. He found Frankel and Spitz in their death throes, bloating, swaying on their feet, Spitz clinging to his superior in their confusion and agony.

Hi grabbed the two chummily by the shoulders. "How's it going, mush heads?" he asked, and clobbered their heads together. They burst open like two blood-filled melons.

Crowley lay all but dead on his bunk. He struggled weakly to his feet as he heard the rattle of a key unlocking cell doors. "Everybody out and head for the jungle!" he heard Hi saying. "Head east and wait! Get off of the compound!"

Hi appeared outside Crowley's cell. "I see you made it, pal," Hi smiled, unlocking the door. "Way to go."

Meanwhile Hitler had discovered the split-open body of Bingle near the door of his quarters. Poor Bingle had apparently tried his best to get to work that morning. With a Luger pistol in hand, an SS dagger on his hip, Hitler descended the stairs. Heading for the Gebäude Ein main hall, he saw the Scharführer, bleeding and bloating, coming toward him. Hitler stopped as the Scharführer, much more confused than usual, staggered up to him.

"Mein--" That's as far as the Scharführer got. Blood spewed from his mouth, and before Hitler's eyes he began deflating like a baloon. "Fuuuuuuuuuuuuu . . . ."

Outside, with morning light on the compound, Hitler headed straight for Gebäude Drei. He walked past SS bodies lying in their blood, with dying SS men calling out to him pleadingly. The Führer ignored them. Of what use were the dead and the dying?

Hitler was going to Munitions. From there he would defend Neuanfang, from whatever was happening, if he had to do it all by himself.