Lion, Tiger, Bear | 289 torpedo ready for action. Buck Rodgers fantasy come alive, said Alice. Blau-35 alloy. The whole things made of it! exclaimed Bea. Just like bloody ol Anton. And faster than your precious stolen Heinkel, an amusing tale I might add. Well played, said Schafer. The Bear can presently achieve 880 kph with much more to come. Hopefully Herr Gerlach and Porsche can make that happen. Oh? asked Bea nonchalantly. Any armaments? asked Bernie. He swiveled around, marveling at the 100-meter or so diameter cavern which went on seemingly forever, the walls somehow made into smooth, polished-to-a-shine black anthracite. Wood buildings, barracks, mess halls, infirmary, and offices were built into one side, and a supply depot next to them. The sounds of winches, cranes, mining trucks carrying ore, and generators filled the void, the cavern smelling of beans, bacon, exhaust, and chemicals. Vent fans whirred above, exhausting toxic fumes through other hidden tunnels cleverly built by expert engineers. A generator shed had a yellow high-voltage sign, the electricity supplied by diesel, the exhaust plumbed into the ceiling. Far off, gangs of threadbare Arab slave workers marched in a long column. Nothingfancy, its all business here. Bad business all round. Klemperer said a stern: None. Cargo only. A heavy-lift long-range transport. Recoil weapons are useless due to the electromagnetic plasma bubble surrounding him. He would become dangerously unstable in ffight. That makes perfect sense to me. Bernie felt his neck cramping up from his head-high position. How many round trips? Over sixty, bragged Klemperer, hands clasped behind his back and tipping up and down on his toes. Everything you see here was brought in by transport or the Bear. Ore and rare earth materials outbound, supplies and personnel inbound, five hours flight time on average to southern Germany. Minor onboard repairs and maintenance are in progress, timely efficiency is our goal. Luftwaffe crew towed inside the Ju-290 in case any rarely-seen British reconnaissance planes were meandering about, the rough airstrip routinely camouflaged with cut trees, painted aluminum rocks by the truckload, and shrubs on mobile wood platforms. Within the hour it would blend in with the rest of the valley. Herr Schafer, I need to visit the toilet, said Bernie.