Otto, the administrator at the refugee center in Marienfelde, arranged the meeting. And when Martino entered the lobby the next morning, he found a young man waiting for him. He was in his early twenties, average height and weight, blonde hair parted on the left and green eyes. “I’m Tony Marino,” he said, his hand outstretched.
MarienfeldeThe young man shook it firmly. “Josef Kramer,” he replied. “I believe you may have an interesting proposition for me.”
“Possibly,” Marino replied. “You’re a student?”
“Yes, in the structural engineering program at the Technical University,” Kramer replied.
The door opened and a man entered, middle-aged. He nodded, walked past them, and went into an adjacent hallway. Marino scanned the lobby, searching for somewhere private, but didn’t find it. He look
