He carried a small wooden crate with a rope handle in one hand and a large envelope in the other.“The Fuhrer is dead.” Himmler informed him flatly... “He has left you these instructions.” He handed him the envelope, then set down the crate. “And this.”Schell fought back tears while he examined the envelope. The Fuhrer had sealed it with wax. The wax had been broken. He looked up at Himmler at the same time that another artillery round shook everything. Himmler stood unflinching, giving a look. He didn’t normally use the couch. It took a moment and then she spotted it.“What’s that?” Maggie asked.“That is Patches,” Guy answered. “He’s my cat. Or maybe I should say that I’m his person.”“I don’t like cats,” Maggie said while glaring at the beast.Disinterested in her opinion, the cat looked at her and yawned. Guy scratched it behind the ear and it turned its head into his hand.“I do,” Guy said.“You’re getting rid of it,” Maggie said.Flippantly, Guy said, “I’d rather get rid of you.”“You. More

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