Impossible Nazi

by Ward Wagher

  Schloss rubbed his hand across his face. “I think, though, we will see a few articles in the papers on the disappearance of so many influential people.”

  “That should make people stop and think before consider trying something like this,” Rainer said.

  “And that’s what worried me. We should not be in the business of disappearing people.”

  “At least we are practicing some modicum of Due Process.”

  Schloss shook his head. “At least. Goering just wanted to shoot them and be done with it. But, I had to sign the death warrants, Karl. I had to take responsibility for that.”

  “The execution squad will see your signature on the warrants,” Rainer commented. “Word will get around.”

  “And the rumors will start.”

  “No, no, that’s not what I meant. People will be reassured that you are following due process. They may not like it.” Rainer shook his head. “I don’t like it. But, it reinforces the rule of law.”

  “Such as it is. But there are three dozen people in that stack. I know because I counted.”

  “It was the best of a few bad options, Herr Schloss.”

  “Oh, I know that. It’s just that we seem to keep finding ourselves in these situations. I’m starting to look at myself as the Impossible Nazi.” He chuckled softly. “I look at these events and tell myself that they are simply not possible.”

  “And yet, you seem to manage your way through them,” Rainer replied. “And, I don’t think anyone else could do it.”

  Schloss took the stack of warrants and handed them to Rainer. “Here you go, Karl. I just transferred an unpleasant job to you. Now, get out of here. I need to go upstairs and somehow make peace with my wife. Talk about an impossible task.”

  Rainer stood up. “Very well, Herr Schloss. I do not take any more pleasure in this than you do. I will see you tomorrow.”

  “And we get to do this all over again.”

  “Hopefully not exactly the same way.”

  Schloss followed Rainer through Kirche’s office and into the hallway.

  “Kirche,” Schloss called, “I’m calling it a night. Good night, Karl.”

  Reichsprotecktor Karl Rainer watched the Impossible Nazi walk to the stairwell that led to his apartments

  .

  § § §

  November 23, 1942; 10 PM

  Eretz Israel Hospital

  Haifa, Judaea

  Waves of pain crashed on the shores of endless night. He did not know his name or where he was. He struggled to swim upward against the currents of darkness that enslaved him. This had been his entire existence. It seemed to have no starting point and no end.

  Then other sounds intruded, and this was different. Conversations heard, but not understood. The clanking and rattling of metallic instruments imparted a background. He turned and swam towards that growing awareness.

  He opened his eyes to a darkened room. A low wattage bulb held the night at bay. Curtains covered a darkened window.

  “I see you are with us again, Rav Otto,” a soft voice came from the shadows in the corner.

  “Who? Where?” Otto Skorzeny croaked. It took all of his concentration to make his voice obey his will as well as fit together the pieces of his existence.

  “You are in a hospital, Otto. It seems you did not follow your own advice and duck. Fortunately, Judaea is not rid of you just yet.”

  “The Jordan,” Otto said.

  “Right. For the record, your people stopped the incursion cold. The war continues, but we are slowly gaining control of our own territory and making the borders meaningful.”

  “When can I get back to my team?” Otto was proud to be able to compose complete sentences.

  “Oh, you will not be going back. You are simply too valuable to the nation to spill your blood on the banks of the Jordan. You will be joining President Ben Gurion’s personal staff.”

  “You know I am not worthy of something like that,” Otto Skorzeny protested.

  “Yes. Yes, we know that, Rav Otto. Your penance is to serve Judaea. As you have done.”

  Yes, Otto agreed, that is worthy penance for my days in Eastern Europe killing Jews. And I am satisfied to serve them.

  And Otto Skorzeny went back to sleep to rest for the coming day. Reuven Shiloah quietly eased from the chair in the shadows and moved to the door.

  “Keep a close watch on this one,” he said to the guard outside the door. He is critical to our land.”

  The End

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Ward Wagher lives in Greenville, South Carolina with his wife. A college professor and an Information Technology professional, Wagher writes Adult Christian Fiction, and Christian Science-Fiction.

  Visit Ward’s web site at www.wardwagher.com. He can be reached at ward.wagher@gmail.com