Flight of the Valkyrie

by Christopher Vale

  The Nazis had done just that, though not without resistance from the residents of the ghetto. In 1943, the Nazis attempted to transport the remaining Jewish residents of Warsaw to the Treblinka death camp. The fighting between the Germans and the Jews lasted nearly a month, but the Jewish resistance lost in the end. The Germans burnt down the ghetto, block by block and some thirteen thousand Jews died. At least half of them were burnt to death.

  “Anyway we didn’t go to Warsaw. We fled. Noah had found a nice couple—a Catholic couple—who said they would help us. Dobry and Magda. Oh, how sweet they were! How much they sacrificed to feed all of us down in their basement. How much they risked,” Brygida began to cry again.

  “Just take your time,” Axel said softly and Brygida nodded.

  “They killed them,” Brygida said. “A little pimple faced SS officer forced them to their knees and shot them down in the street like dogs. Then he killed Noah.” She wiped her eyes. “I saw his head explode all over the snow. Then something happened, I moved so fast like…I don’t know, it’s all really kind of a blur to me now, but I somehow got the officer’s gun from him.”

  Axel was dumbfounded. “They didn’t shoot you?”

  “They were about to when Colonel Arnulf saved me. He ordered them not to fire. He told me that I didn’t have to go with the others. He said I was special. He even shot the officer who killed Noah so that I would feel justice had been served. He took me to a facility where I was…,” She trailed off not wanting to talk about the experiments. “Well, I think you know what they did there. The night you were born, I escaped. I was shot as I ran. I lost a lot of blood and collapsed in the street. I was almost run over by a car driven by a very nice German couple who took me home with them and nursed me back to health. It did not take me long to recover and once I did I discovered I had incredible strength. Something about the chemicals or whatever they were feeding the two of you in the womb, I don’t know, but I somehow have these amazing abilities.”

  “And you do not age?” Axel said. “You look like you are in your twenties.”

  “Yes. The Soviet doctors explained to me that my cells do not break down and degenerate like a normal person’s cells would. You will be the same way. Young forever.”

  Axel smiled. “Well, I can’t complain about that,” he said happily. “So what happened then?”

  Brygida shrugged as she took a sip of her coffee. “I started killing Nazis,” she said. “Wherever I could find them. I was sloppy though, untrained. I don’t know how I survived. Then I returned to Poland to try to save as many people as I could. I hooked up with the Polish resistance and through them began fighting with the Soviets. When they discovered what I could do they put me in a very special unit.”

  Rolf finally raised his head and met her eyes. He had tears streaming down his cheeks. “Why did you leave us?” he asked angrily, and Brygida felt her heart break.

  “I didn’t want to Rolf,” she said. “I tried to take you with me the day I escaped, but Arnulf threatened to shoot you.”

  “Why didn’t you rescue us?” he demanded. He was sobbing now. “Every night I laid in bed imagining that my mother would come and rescue me. Axel told me our mother was dead, but I kept saying it wasn’t true that she would come for us. Why didn’t you come for us?”

  “Oh my darling, I tried. I tried so hard to find people that knew where you were.” She reached forward across the table to take his hand, but Rolf jerked it away, standing suddenly, knocking the chair down and fleeing from the kitchen. Brygida stood to go after him, but Axel held up a hand to stop her.

  “I’ll go and talk to him,” Axel said. “I’ll make him understand. Don’t worry. He’s upset now, but it’ll be okay.” With that Axel turned and left to catch up with his brother.

  Brygida collapsed back into her chair. She began to pick up the cup of coffee, but was suddenly overwhelmed with emotions and instead just began to weep.

  Chapter 14

  The car rolled to a stop in front of the farmhouse. Dawn shifted it into park and turned off the engine. She turned to Tom. “You know Ian is going to kill us, right?” she asked him as he opened the passenger side door.

  “Well, either him or the Nazis,” Tom said with a toothy grin. “Wait here with Kammler. I’ll be right back.” Tom stepped out of the car, closing the door behind him. He walked quickly to the farmhouse, climbed the steps, swung the door open and stepped inside.

  Dawn watched Kammler in the rear view mirror as he sat in the back seat staring out of the window. A chill crawled down her spine. Like all sane Americans, she had always hated Nazis, but had never met one up close and personal until she encountered Colonel Arnulf. She had never known evil like she had glimpsed in Arnulf. She still had nightmares to this day about encounters in the alien base in Vietnam. Knowing that Kammler was that evil son of a bitch’s superior in the Nazi ranks, really gave Dawn the willies.

  Not wanting to be alone with Kammler any longer than necessary, Dawn was relieved that it did not take long before Tom returned. He opened the rear door and beckoned Kammler to follow him inside. Kammler stepped out of the car and followed him. Dawn followed Kammler. Tom led the way up the steps onto the porch and then opened the door and stepped inside. Dawn glanced about when she entered the house, but didn’t see anyone inside. Tom led them into the living room and asked Kammler to have a seat in German. He then turned to Dawn. “Are your dinner cooking skills as good as your breakfast ones?” he asked.

  “Better probably,” Dawn said.

  Tom smiled. “Why don’t you go into the kitchen and see what they’ve got to fix.”

  “Okay,” Dawn said, happy to leave Kammler’s presence.

  Tom then placed his hand inside his jacket pocket. “Damn,” he said, then glanced at Kammler. “I left my cigarettes in the car,” he said in German. “I’ll be right back.”

  “Alright,” Kammler said. Tom left Kammler alone in the room.

  A minute passed as Kammler waited in the living room all alone. “Guten Abend Herr Obergruppenführer,” a voice from behind said and Kammler turned in his chair to see Brygida standing behind him, a pistol in her hand. Kammler turned white as a sheet as he recognized the Valkyrie immediately.

  “You!” he shouted in German as he leapt to his feet. “Help!”

  Brygida began to laugh. “There is no help for you here, Kammler,” she sneered. Brygida moved like a cheetah as she leapt forward and slammed the pistol against Kammler’s temple knocking him down. “Do you know how many of my people perished in the death camps you designed?”

  “Brygida, please,” he said as he held a hand up protectively.

  “Oh, so you know who I am?” she asked. Kammler nodded. “Then you must know how badly I want you dead.” With that she raised the pistol and pointed it at him as he cowered in fear on the floor. She pulled the trigger, but instead of the blast he expected, the firing pin simply clicked.

  Brygida squatted down beside him. “Though I would love nothing more than to kill you right here, I am not going to, because you are more valuable alive at the moment. So I want you to believe me when I say I did not attempt to kill you two nights ago. That must have been your little Aryan darling, Freyja.”

  Kammler nodded and Brygida realized that he already knew that. “So, what I want to know is why would your former acolyte wish you dead?”

  “It’s not her,” Kammler said. “Well, not exactly. It’s the people she works for.”

  “The International,” Brygida said.

  “Who?” Kammler asked clearly confused.

  “Nevermind, you just tell me,” Brygida said.

  “There is a hidden base that the surviving SS were to go to and continue weapons development and prepare to continue the war effort.”

  “Why would they want you dead?” Brygida asked.

  “Because I was captured. They certainly assumed that I’d tell where they were. Trading information for my life.”

  “Well, you are going to tell me
where they are,” she reached down and jerked him up and slammed him back down in the chair. Then she reached behind her and produced a knife. “I don’t care how many fingers and toes I have to cut off, I promise, you will tell me.”

  Kammler held up his hands defensively. “Of course I’ll tell you, there is no need to threaten me. They tried to kill me, I’m happy to help you take care of them. I even have coordinates.”

  “Dammit,” Brygida said as she slipped the knife back into its sheath, clearly disappointed he gave in so easily and she didn’t have an opportunity to subject him to at least a little pain.

  Tom stepped back into the room, followed by the others.

  “Tom, what is this?” Kammler asked him in German. Tom shrugged. “Next time you have a question for me just ask.”

  Tom frowned. “Oh, after all you and your kind put this poor woman through, she deserved a chance to make you piss your pants at least once.” Tom handed him a pad of paper and a pen. “Now write down those coordinates.” Kammler obeyed scratching numbers onto the paper. “Where is this base?”

  “Antarctica,” Kammler said as he handed the paper and pen back to Tom.

  “Ugh,” Dawn moaned understanding that word and realizing they would be going to another frozen barren wasteland. “Why don’t the Nazis ever have secret bases in nice places?” she asked rhetorically.

  “What’s in Antarctica?” Tom asked.

  “Soldiers, sailors, secret weapons of all kinds. More genetic experiments, but most importantly is the zero-point energy,” Kammler replied.

  “What is zero-point energy?” Axel asked.

  “A myth,” Tom said. “It’s like free energy taken from the air. Supposedly much more powerful than even atomic energy.

  “Yes,” Kammler grinned. “And there is a zero-point energy bomb at the facility as well.”

  Axel glanced at Tom. “What does a zero-point bomb mean?” Alena asked in English.

  “Trouble,” Tom said.

  “Why don’t we just call in an airstrike? That will solve the entire problem,” Axel said.

  “No, the base is certain to be buried deep underground,” Brygida said.

  “Not to mention we don’t exactly know what would happen if a zero-point energy bomb goes off,” Tom said. “It might be disastrous.”

  “So we’ve got to go down there and get it?” Dawn asked with a frown.

  “No,” Tom replied as he shook his head. “This is too big. I’m calling Ian. The President needs to be alerted.”

  Tom turned to walk to the phone in the kitchen when he felt a hand on his arm. “Have you not been listening Agent Flemming?” Brygida asked. “You call this in and the International will know.”

  “Look, I don’t deny that there might be some Nazi influence in our space and intelligence divisions through Project Paperclip, but there is no Nazi cabal running the world.”

  “Not yet,” Brygida said. “But they are certainly working on it and they are controlling your office.”

  “Tom, whether it’s Nazis or whoever, someone is getting information out of our office,” Axel said. “I mean Freyja knew exactly where we were going to be. There may not be an International Nazi Cabal as mom believes…” Brygida turned with a smile at the word mom, “…but if you phone it in and this becomes a big deal those Nazis in Antarctica are going to get wind of it. Then what happens when they move the bomb before the Presidential bureaucracy gets done polling the populace to see what he should do?”

  Tom stared at Axel. His mind was racing, trying to think of a counter, but he couldn’t. He hated to admit it, but Axel was right. “We’re going to need explosives and while I feel confident we can waltz out of CSOS with our normal gear, securing enough C4 is going to be a problem,” Tom said.

  “I can take care of that,” Alena assured him.

  Tom decided to not worry about how a Russian agent could get her hands on explosives in the United States…at least for the moment. He could worry about that if they made it back from Antarctica. “We’ll have to take this whole base down ourselves,” he said. “That’s not going to be easy.”

  “Well, Tom, I’ve watched Team Blitzkrieg and Hammer and Sickle in action before and we were pretty good,” Dawn said as she and Alena exchanged friendly glances.

  “And this time we’ll have a secret weapon,” Alena said with a smile.

  “What secret weapon?” Tom asked.

  “The Valkyrie,” Alena replied.

  ***

  It was a man and woman who walked through the door. “Mr. Kammler,” the man said as he stepped inside. Kammler sat alone on the couch in the living room. The others had already left, but not before telephoning Martha and instructing her to send agents to the safe house to pick Kammler up.

  Kammler smiled at them. They sure got there fast.

  “We’re here to take you back to Washington,” the woman said in very good German. In fact, it was so good that Kammler barely detected an accent, but there was one there. A Russian accent. Their English was perfectly clean, no American would ever notice, but the German betrayed them.

  Kammler stood up. “Director Paulson sent you?” he asked in German.

  “Yes,” the woman replied, falling for the fake name. Suddenly Kammler brought an elbow into her face, smashing her nose and sending her falling backwards. The man drew his gun and aimed it at Kammler, but the Nazi was quick, slapping the gun to the side and then punching the man in the jaw.

  Kammler felt the glass shatter over his head as the woman brought a lamp down on the crown of his skull. Kammler fell to the ground and received a few swift kicks in the ribs. “Don’t try that again,” the woman said.

  Two shots rang out and Kammler saw the bodies of the man and woman fall to the ground. Boots moved throughout the house.

  “Clear!”

  “Clear!”

  “Clear!” came the voices. Kammler began pushing himself up to his feet and as he did so noticed black dress shoes and dark suit pants. He stood straight to see a smiling Mr. X.

  “Are you alright?” Mr. X asked in perfect German.

  “Yes,” Kammler replied.

  “Did they buy it?” he asked referring to Team Blitzkrieg.

  “Of course,” Kammler said. “Why wouldn’t they? It was the truth after all.”

  “Good,” Mr. X replied.

  “They are on their way to Antarctica now,” Kammler said.

  Mr. X nodded and then glanced down at the dead man and woman on the floor of the safehouse. “It’s a good thing we got here when we did, Hans. I’d hate to think of you in a gulag.”

  Kammler nodded. “Yes, that Slavic bitch must have called her friends.”

  Mr. X smiled. “It doesn’t matter. You are safe now.”

  Chapter 15

  The Falkland Islands

  “Now this is a nice change of weather,” Dawn smiled as she followed Tom along the tarmac.

  “Yes, about sixty today,” Tom replied. “It’s summer here.” They had flown down to the Falkland Islands, a British possession off of the coast of Argentina and approximately three thousand miles from Antarctica.

  “Enjoy it, because it’ll be colder where we’re going,” Axel joked.

  “It’s summer there, too,” Tom laughed knowing that it would still be cold and mostly snow covered terrain.

  “Who are we meeting?” Alena asked.

  “Old buddy from the war,” Tom replied. “He’s a muckety-muck in MI6 now.” Tom suddenly stopped and turned toward Alena. “Let’s keep it under wraps that you’re Russian, alright?” Alena nodded. “In other words, your brother shouldn’t speak.” Alena nodded again. Her accent was clean, but Alexi’s was not.

  Suddenly, a bus pulled up, driven by an old Argentine gentleman. The door opened and a sharply dressed man stepped out. “Canary!” the man shouted excitedly in his thick British accent.

  “Wow, did everyone call him that?” Dawn chuckled to Axel.

  The man gave Tom a big hug. “How have you survive
d this long, mate?” he asked. “I thought you’d have been killed long ago.”

  “I could ask you the same thing, Art,” Tom replied. He then turned to the others. “Everybody, this is Sir Arthur Nelson,” Tom said. “Art, this is everybody.”

  “Oh, a knight,” Dawn said quietly as she poked Axel in the ribs with her elbow. “Sexy.”

  “Nice,” Axel replied. “You know he’s old enough to be your father.”

  “So is Tom but that hasn’t stopped us,” Dawn whispered and then began walking away to climb onto the bus.

  “Wait, what?” Axel asked as he chased after her.

  “Welcome to the Falklands,” Art said to each of them as they boarded the bus.

  Once everyone was aboard Art slipped down into the seat beside Tom. “I received your message about some international terrorist plot, but I must admit, I’m a bit bewildered,” Art said. “You were extremely cryptic.”

  Tom nodded. “Yes, well you should be used to that in this business, old man,” he smiled.

  Art nodded. “Perhaps, but if you expect Her Majesty’s assistance you are going to have to be a bit more forthcoming.”

  “Fair enough,” Tom said. “You know those rumors that the Nazis had built a secret U-boat base in Antarctica?”

  “Of course,” Art replied.

  “Well, they aren’t just rumors. We have coordinates for it,” Tom said. “What’s more, we have it from a top source that they have a wonderwaffe.”

  “What type?” Art asked his curiosity suddenly peaked.

  “I’m not sure exactly,” Tom lied, “but it’s considered extremely valuable and dangerous.”

  Art nodded. “Alright,” he said. “But why do you need us? You yanks can get down to Antarctica just as easily as we can.”

  “Well, that’s where it gets touchy,” Tom replied. “It’s become clear that our office has been infiltrated. We need to keep this hushed up. I don’t want to be ambushed by a battalion of SS just waiting for us.”