After escaping from Gestapo headquarters and eluding their manhunt for the last couple of hours, you manage to make it back to your apartment hideout under cover of darkness. It'll only be a matter of time before they track you down here, so you've got to grab as many weapons and ammo as you can and then get the hell out of Paris. You'll worry about trying to contact Little Red Riding Hood later on. As you shove as many clips into your backpack as it'll hold, you notice something behind your front door that you missed when you first came in. A small envelope, apparently the only thing that came in today's mail. You don't have much time, but you stop what you're doing to pick up the envelope and see what it is. There's no return address on it, but the postmark indicates it was mailed in Paris three days ago. From the weight of the envelope in your hand, you can tell there's an object inside of it. You rip it open and find a small key taped to a single sheet of paper, and you start reading the letter...

If you're reading this, Blazkowicz, it means the Gestapo finally caught me and I didn't get the chance to meet with you. I hope to explain everything to you at our meeting, but if the Gestapo prevent this, I will tell you everything here. It's very important, then, that you continue in my place and get the information I have to the Allies. As I told you before, the Gestapo have been one step behind me ever since I escaped from Germany with the plans to Rheingold. I've made it as far as Paris with the intention of reaching England and delivering the plans to Churchill, but I suspect I will not make it out of this city. The Gestapo have been closing in on me relentlessly, and I know I can't evade them forever. For this reason, I've decided to contact you and pass the information on to you. I've thrown the Gestapo off for the moment, and hopefully they won't find me until after we've met and I've given you the plans and you're on your way to England in my place. I will stay here and allow them to capture me to buy you the time to go on. However, there's always the chance these bastards will find me before we meet in just a few hours, so I'm sending you this letter as insurance. The key taped to it will open safety deposit box 314 at the Banque Argent de Sang in Geneva. Before reaching France, I hid in Switzerland for a couple of weeks, and I left copies of the Rheingold documents in this safety deposit box. If the Gestapo get me before we meet and I give you the plans, they can't find this key on me, and you'll need it to get the information I won't be able to give you. So even if they get me before I can see you, I'll still be one step ahead of the bastards. Good luck, and watch your back. They're everywhere.

They're everywhere... You certainly have firsthand knowledge of that. Thankfully, Agent 17 had the foresight not only to have a Plan B, but also a Plan C if Plan B didn't work out. You're holding Plan C in your hand right now, a little key with the number 314 engraved on it. If everything had worked out as Agent 17 hoped, you'd be on your way to England right now and he'd be just as dead as he already is. Now you've got to go in the opposite direction, to Switzerland. You crumple the letter and envelope, toss them into the waste basket and burn them, then bury the key deep in your pocket. Cramming the last of the ammo into the backpack, you close it and grab a machinegun. After you get out of Paris, you'll head south into the countryside and hook up with the Maquis at one of their camps. If anyone can smuggle you out of France under the noses of the Gestapo and get you into Switzerland, they can. You'll worry about what to do after that once you've gotten the plans. You're just about to turn off the light and head for the front door when you hear the sound of screeching tires on the street outside. You turn off the light and move to the window, trying to stay out of sight. Slowly, you move back the curtain, just enough to take a peek. There are two Gestapo staff cars right in front of the building, and you can hear what sounds like half-tracks approaching from another street. Agent 17 was right. They are bastards.