Explore "Before Tomorrowland" by Jeff Jensen on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
THE THICK atmosphere of cigarettes and diesel dissipated as Rotwang stepped through the submarine's exit hatch and into the fresh air. The mouth of the Hudson lay three miles ahead, crowned by the afternoon glow of New York City's towers. He hoped he wouldn't step foot inside a U-boat for the rest of his hopefully infinite life. It would have also been fine if old Lohman died reclined in Rotwang's leather chair, with two lungs full of salt water and Nazi blood.
Unfortunately, Lohman was getting off the boat, too. He stood just ahead of Rotwang, clasping the U-boat's deck rail with a frail hand wrapped in a plastic antimicrobial glove. Hagen stood by his master, ready to help him down the sub's starboard ladder and into one of three twenty-foot open-topped motorboats bobbing along the Dunkelstar's side. The Nazis'