Hi spent most of the early evening in the Gebäude Drei storage room--ostensibly working on the memoirs--thinking about how not to drink any blood without possibly arousing some suspicion in Hitler and the others. Short of not showing up, he could think of only one thing to do.

But first there was Müller to deal with. When he walked into the Weinberg at eleven, Hi found Oberschütze Spitz working busily at his desk. Hi nodded hello as Spitz glanced up from his paperwork. Gesturing toward the Weinkellar, Spitz said simply, "They are expecting you, Hickenlooper," and continued to work.

Hi looked calm, but inside he felt panic. Who were "they"? Had Müller set him up? Was Kegel in there? What had Hitler and Kegel whispered about? Spitz, wondering why Hi hadn't moved yet, looked up at him.

"Have they been here long?" Hi asked casually.

"For most of the evening," Spitz said. He went back to his work.

Hi turned and walked toward the Weinkellar door, which had a wall lamp next to it, the only light in the Weinberg except for the two desk lamps. Hi felt sure he was walking into more Murphy's Law. He glanced toward Crowley's cell, but could make nothing out in the darkness between the light of the lamps.

Walking into the Weinkellar, Hi found Müller sitting at the desk in his cubby-hole office. There with him, in a chair by the desk, was Sturmbannführer Frankel. Hi was relieved to see no one else. But he wondered why Frankel was there. If the Sturmbannführer was just visiting, why did Spitz say they were expecting him?

Frankel rose as Hi walked over. "Good evening, Oberschütze." Hi couldn't tell if the smile on Frankel's face was a false one or not.

"Good evening." Hi looked at Müller, but the Obersturmbannführer just sat there, regarding him, with his usual poker face.

"Here to check on your plant?" asked Frankel, still smiling.

"Yes." Hi didn't know what else to say.

Frankel kept smiling for a moment, but then squinted his eyes accusingly. "You are lying, Oberschütze."

Hi looked again at Müller, who still offered no help. Then Frankel laughed, and slapped Hi chummily on the shoulder.

"I have let Herr Frankel in on our little secret," Müller said finally. Hi felt great relief. "He has been a loyal and conscientious officer. He wrings every drop of blood that he can from those stinking wretches next door."

"Please, Obersturmbannführer," Frankel said with false modesty, "you embarrass me."

"He deserves a little reward," Müller said.

"Sure," Hi smiled. "Why not?" Frankel stood there smiling and waiting. Hi looked at Müller. "Got the glasses?" Müller opened a desk drawer to get them, while Frankel, rubbing his hands together, sat back down. Hi had told Müller that the extract, being acrid by itself, went down best mixed with blood, which masked its unpleasant taste. Hi had no idea, of course, how the stuff really tasted, with blood or without, and did not intend to find out.

As Müller arranged three glasses and a spoon on the table, Hi took a vial of dragon's blood out of his pocket. Frankel's eyes widened at the sight as Hi held it between finger and thumb.

"In the absence of Oberschütze Spitz," Hi said graciously, tantalizing them with the vial, "allow me to serve as your waiter."

Vial still in hand, Hi turned and headed for the refrigerator, cater-cornered from the office. Frankel crossed his legs and cheerfully called after him, "Your secret is safe with me. But whatever you do"--he was almost stuttering in his anticipation--"do not tell Kegel or Dorsch."

"Hah," Hi called back as he opened the fridge. "I wouldn't tell those guys how to fly." Taking out one of the three bottles of blood, he uncapped it as he went back to the office.

"It's best," Hi said, "to pour one glass from each bottle." He poured Müller's glass first. "That way no one will notice there's a little blood missing."

"Good idea," Müller said. Hi liked the irony of the comment, coming from a man who would kill anyone caught stealing blood.

As Müller and Frankel expectantly watched, Hi carefully poured a dose of the dragon's blood from the vial into Müller's glass of blood. "Stir it up," Hi said, "and then down the hatch." He smiled at Frankel. "You're next, Sturmbannführer."

Hi headed back to the fridge. "Like I said," he called to them over his shoulder, "it'll be a few hours before we feel the effect." At the fridge Hi's back was to the office. Through the office doorway the Nazis couldn't see the fridge anyway without leaning over and craning their necks. Müller and Frankel sat relaxed, unsuspecting. as Hi opened the fridge, set the first bottle back in, and, before capping it, emptied the vial of dragon's blood into the bottle.

As Hi took out the second bottle with one hand, with the other he exchanged the empty vial for a full one from his pocket. With the new vial in hand, he uncapped the second bottle on his way back to the office.

"The nice thing about it," Hi said as he poured Frankel's glass from the bottle, "is that you can't get addicted." He poured a dose of D.P.E. from the vial--the two Nazis thought it the same vial as before, Hi's hand obscuring the fact it was full--into Frankel's glass of blood. "You can use this stuff once, and not have to worry about getting any more."

With the bottle and vial in one hand, Hi picked up the third glass with the other. "Let me get mine," he said, turning toward the fridge, "and we'll toast."

"But if it does all that you say," Frankel said, eagerly stirring his drink with the spoon as Hi went to the fridge, "how can we not help but worry? There is nothing worse than wanting something that you can't have more of."

On his way to the fridge, Hi emptied the second vial into the second bottle in his hand.

"Don't worry," Müller said. "Herr Hickenlooper will see that we get it."

As Hi returned the second bottle to the fridge, he simultaneously exchanged vials once again. He uncapped the third bottle, poured his glass of blood, and set the glass on the counter. He emptied the vial into the bottle as he set it back in the fridge.

Capping the bottle and closing the fridge, Hi picked up his glass of blood and headed back to the office. As he rejoined Müller and Frankel, he showed off the empty vial. "Well, that's it," Hi said, putting the vial into his pocket. Frankel offered Hi the spoon, but Hi was already stirring his blood with a finger. "Oh, I'm sorry," Hi said, acting embarrassed by his crude faux pas. "I'm used to not having a spoon."

"That's all right," Müller said. "From now on you will have one." He raised his glass in a toast. "Heil Hitler."

"Heil Hitler," Hi said.

"Sieg heil," Frankel said, and eagerly began downing his blood. Hi, as he began drinking his own, watched Frankel and thought, So long, sucker. He watched Müller drinking his too. Have fun in hell, Hi thought.

Hi was relieved that neither Nazi detected any bad taste in his blood, since he had already told them they wouldn't. That meant hopefully no one at the midnight meal would taste something strange and suspect tainted blood. And Hi was exhilarated that the tainting had gone so smoothly. Though it remained to be seen how much help he might need, Hi hoped things were going as well for the operation on the outside of Neuanfang as they were--at least for the moment--on the inside.