It's June 30, 1934, in a wealthy suburb on the outskirts of Berlin.

A housekeeper is washing the dishes in the kitchen of a large villa, when suddenly she

hears the distant growl of a car engine. A housekeeper looks

through the window as a black Mercedes-Benz pulls through the front gates, its wheels

crunching over the gravel driveway. The housekeeper watches as four men wearing trench coats and

fedoras climb out of the car and begin walking toward the house.

The housekeeper quickly turns off the tap.

Then she unties her apron and rushes through the lobby.

She opens the front door and looks suspiciously at the men standing at the stoop.

Can I help you, gentlemen, she asks.

One of the men steps forward and removes his hat.

He smiles at the housekeeper, but behind his round spectacles, his eyes contain no warmth.

Guten Tag Freulein, he says, is Genovon Schleichholm? The housekeeper hesitates.

She knows her employer is in the nearby study, likely pouring over papers or talking on the phone.

But she doesn't remember him saying anything about guests, so she's about to turn the men away.

But then she hears Schleiker's voice drifting from the study.

The men hear at two and exchange glances.

They push past the housekeeper, stride through the lobby, and barge into Schleiker's study.

Schleiker stands from his desk, annoyed at the intrusion.

One of the men barks, are you General von Schleiker?

Schleiker nods.

But before he can utter a word of protest, the men reach inside their trench coats and pull out Luger pistols.

...