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Hunting Eichmann: How a Band of Survivors and a Young Spy Agency Chased Down the World's Most Notorious Nazi
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About Hunting Eichmann: How A Band Of Survivors And A
Product Description Hunting Eichmann is the first complete narrative of a relentless and harrowing international manhunt. When the Allies stormed Berlin in the last days of the Third Reich, Adolf Eichmann shed his SS uniform and vanished. Following his escape from two American POW camps, his retreat into the mountains and out of Europe, and his path to an anonymous life in Buenos Aires, his pursuers are a bulldog West German prosecutor, a blind Argentinean Jew and his beautiful daughter, and a budding, ragtag spy agency called the Mossad, whose operatives have their own scores to settle (and whose rare surveillance photographs are published here for the first time). The capture of Eichmann and the efforts by Israeli agents to secret him out of Argentina to stand trial is the stunning conclusion to this thrilling historical account, told with the kind of pulse-pounding detail that rivals anything you'd find in great spy fiction. Review “A riveting and passionate account of one of history’s most fascinating—and morally significant—secret operations. Neal Bascomb has utilized recently declassified documents to add vivid detail to this stirring episode in the struggle for justice for the victims of genocide.” — Michael Oren, author of Six Days of War: June 1967 and The Making of the Modern Middle East“There’s no greater satisfaction than seeing someone guilty of great evil being brought to justice, and few people in history have been guilty of more than Adolf Eichmann. Neal Bascomb tells the story of his capture with great verve and a novelist’s eye for suspense.” — Adam Hochschild, author of King Leopold’s Ghost and Bury the Chains“Admirably researched and relentlessly paced, Hunting Eichmann brings us closer to the manhunt for the Holocaust’s architect than we’ve ever come before. A strangely affecting nonfiction thriller.” — Stephan Talty, author of Empire of Blue Water“Deeply researched... reads like a thriller.” — Philadelphia Inquirer “Chilling, authoritative and timely . . . An exhaustive, well-researched volume that supersedes prior accounts.” — Washington Times About the Author NEAL BASCOMB is the national award–winning and New York Times best-selling author of The Winter Fortress, Hunting Eichmann, The Perfect Mile , Higher , The Nazi Hunters, and Red Mutiny, among others. A former international journalist, he is a widely recognized speaker on the subject of war and has appeared in a number of documentaries. He lives in Philadelphia. For more information, visit http://nealbascomb.com or find him on Twitter at @nealbascomb. Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved. The man from bus 203 was late. For three weeks now the team tracking him had watched their target return from work to his small brick bunker of a house on Garibaldi Street. Every night was the same: At 7:40 p.m., bus 203 stopped at the kiosk on the narrow highway 110 yards from the corner of Garibaldi Street; the man exited the bus; another passenger, a woman, also exited at the same stop. They separated. Sometimes the man stopped at the kiosk for a pack of cigarettes, but this never took more than a minute. Then he crossed the street and walked toward his house. If a car approached, he turned on his flashlight — one end red, the other white — to signal his presence. When he reached his property, he circled the house once before entering, as if checking that all was secure. Inside, he greeted his wife and young son, lit a few additional kerosene lamps, and then sat down for dinner. He was a man of precise routines and schedules. His predictability made him vulnerable. But on this night, Wednesday, May 11, 1960, 7:40 passed, and neither bus 203 nor the man was in sight. The team waited in two cars. One black Chevrolet sedan was parked on the edge of Route 202, facing toward the bus stop. Once the man showed, if he showed, the driver in the backup car would flick on his headlights to blind him before he turned left
