VI.

London, 1935 

Dr. Heinrich Braun folded his arms and stared at his colleagues in disgust. He was beginning to feel like his trip from Germany was all for nothing.

“I just don’t think you’re grasping the moral implications of this compound,” Dr. Bailey said, cleaning his glasses on his lab coat. 

Heinrich scoffed. “Moral? Tens of millions of deaths in the Great War could have been prevented with this agent. It does far more damage than any artillery. Don’t talk to me about what is moral when you so clearly have a stake in the creation of aircraft and tanks.”

“I’m a scientist, Dr. Braun. Not a military advisor.” 

“Please. The longer you pretend to not be in cahoots with th...

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