Hogan, Newkirk, LeBeau and Olsen loitered behind a nearby building, waiting for the group of SS men to unload Weiss' body from the truck. They had an extra wide gurney waiting, but it proved too small for the hulking man, making it extremely awkward to get inside.

The coast now clear, Hogan waited a beat before stepping out. Without a word, Olsen and LeBeau jumped into the truck cab and started the engine. Meanwhile, Hogan and Newkirk slipped into the building.

They found themselves in a small lobby. The smell of antiseptic clung to the air, so strong that it was almost overwhelming. The lighting was bright, but cold, and it was silent as a tomb. The only colour in this world of white was the red from the Nazi flag draped on the wall. Ahead lay a hallway lined with office doors, and to the left a small door labelled stairs. To their right was a set of white swing doors with large windows, through which they could see the team of Nazis wheeling Weiss down a hall.

Hogan didn't like operating in such bright conditions. There weren't any obvious hiding spots, and there was no telling who, or what was behind any of the doors. Finding the information they needed wouldn't be easy without knowing where to look. It would take a bit of luck.

But, so far, luck seemed to be on their side. There was no one around, except on the other side of the swing doors, and they were too preoccupied to notice him and Newkirk.

Resisting the urge to sneak, Hogan stood straight and strode to the door leading to the stairwell. A set of stairs went up and another went down. Hogan opted for the basement first and descended the stairs, Newkirk keeping pace behind him. At the bottom landing was another door.

"And so I told her," Hogan said in a conversational tone as he opened the door, "that if you think Göring is fat*, wait until-" Hogan cut himself off when they were met with an empty hallway.

"Everyone's gone for lunch," Newkirk observed lightly.

"Yeah, maybe." They slipped into the hallway. Hogan went to the first door he found and turned the handle. A broom fell out and nearly hit him, but he caught it and shoved it back into the closet.

"Should we send that broom off to London?" Newkirk asked.

"Funny."

"Well what are we looking for and are we going to find it?"

"Files, papers, anything labelled Stone Breaker." Hogan tried another door. A bathroom.

The next door was locked. That was promising. He pressed his ear to the door to try and pick up any sounds. Nothing. "Got your tool kit?"

"Never leave home without it." Newkirk fished his lock pick from his breast pocket and set to work. Hogan leaned up against the wall beside him to shield him just in case anyone decided to show up. "Piece of cake, really," Newkirk said after a moment. "It's almost embarrassing." He stood up and gingerly opened the door.

The room was dark and Hogan felt the wall until he found the light switch. "Bingo." The room was full of filing cabinets with a lone desk in the corner. Closing the door behind them, they entered the room and went to work. The cabinets were locked, but they were no match for Newkirk who deftly cracked them open.

"Got anything?" Hogan asked as he quickly leafed through the file folders looking for anything that hinted at a connection to Stone Breaker. So far, he was coming up empty.

"Not here," Newkirk informed him. He abandoned his cabinet and moved to another. "Here. Stone Breaker." Newkirk pulled open another draw. "And here." He pulled out a stack of folders and dropped them onto the desk. Hogan grabbed another bunch.

"Take pictures of everything," he ordered, taking a brief moment to look at his watch.

"Right."

Hogan pulled out a small spy camera and flipped open one of the files labelled Stone Breaker Series A-1. He took pictures as fast as he could, turning page after page, not bothering to read them. He stopped dead though when he turned over a photo.

"Oh shit."

It was obvious from the photo and the ones following it that Series A-1 had been their first set of human trials and had resulted in disaster. Generally, Hogan lacked any sympathy for Nazis, but it was nearly impossible to look at the pictures and not be horrified by the ordeal these men must have gone through. Their grotesque bodies looked like they were simultaneously melting and on the verge of exploding. More photos documented their autopsies.

"Bloody hell."

Hogan looked to see Newkirk holding up a picture to show him. Hogan flinched and instinctually darted his gaze. "What series is that?" Hogan asked.

"C-3," Newkirk replied. "Dated March this year."

Hogan checked the date on his. December, 1942. "They're not wasting time before they move onto the next series," he observed. He wondered what differentiated Series A from C, but it wasn't his job to find out. His job was to get pictures so the big heads in London could decipher what it all meant as they tried to reconstruct it. Hopefully, they would skip past the obvious failures.

"We don't have time to go through it all," Hogan said, again looking at his watch. "Find the latest series."

"Let's see. Series I-5." Newkirk slid the file over to Hogan before going back to the file cabinet to look for more.

Hogan flipped open the folder and leafed through the pages until he found a photo. "Hey. It's Weiss." Sure enough, it was their favourite new guard in all his gargantuan glory. Another photo showed a rather small man standing next to a ruler with his height marked on it. It must have been Weiss before his transformation. The contrast was stunning. No doubt it would soon be updated with the results of Weiss' autopsy. That is, if Hogan wasn't about to burn the whole place to the ground.

"There's Series J-1 and K-1 in here," Newkirk reported. He brought the files over and flipped through them. "No photos," he said. "Just pages of chemical formulas and notes." He snapped a picture of each page.

"Must be their newest concoctions they haven't had a chance to test out yet. All right, I think we have enough. Let's rig this place to blow."

Taking out a pocket knife, Hogan cut into his uniform, pulling out a long roll of plastic explosive. He balled a little up and stuck it to the side of a cabinet.

Together, he and Newkirk placed the rest of his supply throughout the room. "Timer is set," Newkirk said after a few minutes.

"Good. Let's find Carter just in case LeBeau and Olsen haven't gotten to him yet."

"There's two more floors to search," Newkirk pointed out.

"Then we better be quick."

"Right." The left the room and hurried down the hall. They slowed their pace before peering around the corner. Standing outside a door was a guard. That was interesting. Just what was in there?

Hogan and Newkirk backed up a few paces before walking around the corner. "So I told her that if she thinks Göring is fat," Hogan said, diving back into his fake conversation, "she should see my mother!"

He and Newkirk shared a laugh as they approached the guard. Hogan nodded to him as he walked past, a gesture that he returned. Newkirk hung back, so that he and Hogan were on either side of him. Suddenly, they each grabbed an arm and drove him right into the opposite wall. Hogan grabbed his head and smacked it against the wall a few times for good measure until the guard went limp.

They braced themselves for a reaction to the noise, but none was forthcoming. So they pushed the guard out of sight of the door and tried to open it. Locked again. Newkirk went to work and soon had it opened. Once again, the room was empty, but brightly lit.

"Take him to the broom closet," Hogan ordered before he went inside.

There were several workbenches covered in beakers, test tubes, Bunsen burners and the like. Very interesting. Of course, he had no idea what any of the chemicals were, but the room was worth investigating. He began rummaging through cupboards, looking for anything of value. "Jackpot." In one cupboard he found a series of thin cardboard boxes, stamped with Project Stone Breaker. He cracked open a box labelled I-5 and found several large vials. He grabbed one and put it in his pocket before reaching for the boxes marked J and K. Four vials were missing from each box, and Hogan could only assume they were intended for the eight new volunteers that were supposed to arrive. Hogan grabbed one of each.

The sound of the door opening made Hogan jump up and whirl around. He was relieved to find it was only Newkirk.

"Guard's squared away," he reported.

"Good. This room's going up too." They set the explosives Newkirk was carrying around the room and set the timer. "All right, let's go find Carter."

They rushed back into the hall and briskly walked through it and around the corner, hoping to find some sign of the others. But the next hall was empty, as was the next, and the few doors they tested were unlocked and shielded nothing interesting.

Suddenly, the lights flickered and then nearly went out completely. A low rumble rolled through the air, causing the light fixtures to shake above them. But that noise was soon drowned out by something else entirely. Something that made Hogan's skin crawl and his hair stand on end.

Someone was screaming.

*While the German people wouldn't dare to speak ill of Hitler, it was actually socially acceptable to make fun of Göring (within reason).