30th of April, 1944.

Eshtariel, Portugal.

Abwehr officer Johnny Yebson enters a picturesque villa overlooking the sea

that doubles as the German intelligence services headquarters in Portugal.

He feels on edge.

But that's normal.

Come in, Yebsen.

It is good to see you.

Good afternoon, Oberzleutnant.

Ever since he agreed to join his closest friend Dusko Popov in spying for the British,

his days have been defined by fear and paranoia.

And now he's been summoned here to meet his new commanding officer, Aloys Schreiber.

Schreiber is a 50-year-old, bald Bavarian Nazi with a foreboding reputation.

He's a doctor of chemistry and one of the

Abver's most senior officers. As Yebson greets him, he notices the scars on the backs of Schreiber's

hands, evidence of an old accident involving a spilled beaker of acid. Congratulations on your

recent commendation. Shreiber guides Jepsen into his office,

then maneuvers himself between Jepsen and the door. There were others more deserving, I'm sure.

Surely not. Though it was unfortunate you missed our recent meeting in Bierrits, I trust you had good

reason. A flash of concern crosses Jepsen's face.

Could Schreiber know about his recruitment to the Allied cause? Anyway, there's unwelcome news,

Yebsen. Sir? I have orders to escort you to Berlin. Jepsen tenses in readiness as Schreiber reaches into his uniform and draws a Luger pistol,

...