“It was wonderful. Once you had seen it, you could never forget. It cannot be described. You will never see anything else like it. Never in all your years.”
And in that moment, the arrogance and bravado vanished. His lips trembled, and a tear ran down his face.
“I….” His voice broke and his hands became tremulous as he reached into his pocket and retrieved a handkerchief, with which he dabbed at his eyes. Urban-Smith and I sat silently as he fought to compose himself.
“Every day, I would see the processions down to the bunkers, see the dead stacked in neat piles outside the barracks, waiting for the trucks to come and take them away. And every day, I would ask myself, is it worth it; all these deaths? And every night, I would hold the Atman in my hand, and the answer was always the same; yes, it is worth it. Every last one.”
“What became of it?” Urban-Smith insisted. “What became of the Atman?”
*
“At the start of 1945, with the Red Army marching through Poland, Reichsführer Himmler ordered Auschwitz to be evacuated, and made the safe relocation and secreting of the Apple of Eden the priority. The contents of the Apple were loaded into several trucks and transported west across Austria and into Switzerland.
“We were lucky; the evacuation of the camps preceded the Allied victory by several months, by which time we had disseminated across Europe, adopting new names (often Jewish), buying forged papers, and converting our money into jewellery or bonds (much easier to carry across a border).
“Sebastian and I spent several weeks in Switzerland before heading towards the newly liberated Paris. The French were in buoyant spirits, and the young Parisian women extremely accommodating. Sebastian and I were sad to leave, but our French was poor compared to our English, and we knew that the French, having been occupied by our troops, would be resentful and more scrupulous in their pursuit of those whom they believed to be war criminals.
“Some of our colleagues endeavoured to surrender to the Americans, and many were rewarded via Operation Paperclip. The Americans offered them falsified employment histories and new identities in exchange for their loyalty and expertise. Sebastian and I, however, were not so trusting, although in retrospect we would have been both wealthier and safer.”
*
“Safer from prosecution?”
“No, Mr Urban-Smith. Safer from the Fervent Fist and the KGB. More specifically, from my nephew, Saxon.”
“Saxon Schwarzkröte is your nephew?”
“That is correct. While stationed at Auschwitz, Sebastian and I would frequent the taverns and alehouses in the neighbouring villages, and often spent the nights in the company of the local ladies. What my brother lacked in eyes and fingers, he more than made up for in charisma and fleisch-speer.”
“You mean chutzpah?”
“No, not chutzpah; fleisch-speer. Knorpel-rüssel.” Schwarzkröte racked his brain for the right words. “He had an enormous hosenschlange.”
“Ah, yes. I see. Please continue, Herr Schwarzkröte.”
“Although we were both careful, it was inevitable that eventually one of us would sire a child. One morning in January, Sebastian received a letter from a recent acquaintance indicating that she was expectant, and that her father was sending her to Warsaw to stay with her auntie, not to return until the summer when the baby had arrived. Before Sebastian could do the honourable thing, the order came to evacuate the camps, and we had to leave immediately.
“We left Paris and travelled north to take up residence in England. Our government bonds were extremely valuable, and we had little difficulty bribing our way through customs and into prominent positions in the engineering industry. During this time, the Apple of Eden remained in Switzerland, but as the Nuremberg trials progressed, we realised that it had to be moved lest it should be offered by one of the defendants in exchange for clemency.
“In view of our technical prowess, Sebastian and I were entrusted with the Apple, so we designed a storage unit, a vault that would keep the contents both safe and secure.
“The design was simple; a steel chamber, sealed and pressurised and lined with explosives on a pressure-sensitive switch. If the vault were penetrated, the resultant change in air pressure would trigger the explosives and destroy the contents. It was easy to construct and arrange for we had many sympathisers in England, many in power who had invested much of their interests in a Nazi victory and who clung to the hope that the rise of a Fourth Reich would allow them to recoup their losses and maintain their privileged positions.
“Access to the vault would be via a lock and key. The key was unique, impossible to counterfeit or copy; the Fourth Atman. The Atman was sealed in a small glass sphere and entrusted to Sebastian’s keeping, whereas I was charged with the concealment of the Apple itself.
“I had found work with an engineering firm in Cambridge. My comrades and I still had access to significant resources set aside by Reichsführer Himmler for this project. Several thousands of pounds were channelled into the formation of a dummy company, and we hired a storage unit on the outskirts of the city, where we constructed and loaded the vault. There it remained for several years until a more permanent resting place could be found.
“I did my job well. For more than three decades, the location of the Apple of Eden was known only to myself, until in 1989, I was diagnosed with cancer of the kidney. The prognosis was guarded, and it became apparent that I would have to pass my secret to Sebastian, who was in rude health. It was dangerous to meet in person, and we had not seen one another for several years, but the information was too sensitive to be entrusted to a letter or telephone call. We arranged to meet in Hyde Park; somewhere public, with less risk of being overheard or abducted by the agents of the KGB. Unbeknownst to us at the time, our meeting was secretly filmed by a KGB agent in London. Several months later, one of our sources in Moscow became aware of the existence of this footage and secured a copy, which he passed to me.”
*
“This is the footage that you sent to me, is it not?”
“Yes, Mr Urban-Smith. What did you make of it?”
“I enhanced the sound as best I could,” Urban-Smith replied, “but ultimately I had to resort to lip-reading, and was only able to make out a small amount of what was said. Something about a tower and the BBC.”
Schwarzkröte grinned. “Yes. The KGB struggled also. When nothing came to my attention for several years, I thought that they had abandoned their efforts, but on September the eleventh 2001, it became clear the search for the Führer’s archive had resumed with vigour.” Here he paused to allow the significance of his words to sink in.
“Are you saying,” I asked incredulously, “that the KGB were behind the nine-eleven attacks on the World Trade Centre?”
“Not the KGB. The Fervent Fist.”
◆◆◆
17. I Got Soul
I was stunned. All I could do was sit and gawp with my mouth opening and closing silently like a landed trout.
I had heard Kenneth Badgerton speculate that the nine-eleven attacks had been perpetrated by the American Government in order to rally public support for a full-scale invasion of the middle-east, but never had I imagined that the Fervent Fist could be behind the attacks.
“Is that where the archive is?” asked Urban-Smith.
“No,” replied Schwarzkröte. “I believe that the footage had been transcribed by a lip-reading expert who misinterpreted what I said. They thought me to have stated that the Apple of Eden was beneath the towers of the WTC (World Trade Cente), whereas it is actually located beneath the terraces of the WTFC (Wottenham Town Football Club). The KGB would never have shown the audacity to launch an attack on U.S soil, but once my nephew’s alliance shifted to the Fervent Fist, he took with him information about the Apple. When no sign of it was found at Ground Zero, he must have re-examined the footage, and this time he made no mistake.”
I had finished my fish impersonation and elected to rejoin the conversation. “But sure
ly without the Atman, he has no hope of accessing the archive.”
“I have no doubt,” said Schwarzkröte, “that Saxon knows of the Atman, and will be making every effort to acquire it.”
“Did your brother have no desire to contact his son?” asked Urban-Smith.
“We all had to make sacrifices, Mr Urban-Smith; some greater than others.”
*
“Saxon knew nothing of his father, except his name, and Sebastian and I made sure that we left the Schwarzkröte name safely behind us. The Apple of Eden was a different matter, however. It was coveted by the Red Army, and later, both the KGB and the CIA devoted much time and resource to locating it.
“Sebastian and I kept in touch by post with our ex-comrades. Telephone calls were too dangerous; too easy to intercept. More recently, we have switched to email and texting, although there are few of us left now. But I digress.
“It became too dangerous to keep the Apple above ground, so it was decided that it should be buried until such a time as the Fourth Reich had need of it again. In the mid-1950s, one of our affiliated construction firms was awarded the contract to construct a football ground in Wottenham Town, and I arranged to have the Apple buried beneath the south terrace. I had considered having it encased in the concrete foundations of the clubhouse, but I worried that drilling it out again could breach it and trigger the explosives.
“Once the site had been prepared, I hired a small group of private contractors to bury the Apple. They had no idea of its true nature, and I paid them handsomely to not speak of it. The football ground’s construction then continued as planned, and I kept the Apple’s resting place a secret.
“Responsibility for the Atman’s safekeeping remained with Sebastian. It was too dangerous for one person to know the location of both lock and key, but when my cancer was diagnosed, I had to pass the information on, and Sebastian was the only person I trusted with all of my heart. Some of our comrades were developing reputations for unscrupulous behaviour, illegally trading in gold and bonds in return for pieces of artwork or lavish properties, but Sebastian remained true. His loyalty to the Reich never faltered, even upon his deathbed.
“During the 1980s, the name Saxon Schwarzkröte was becoming well known in certain circles. I learned that this man was a brilliant chemist who had defected to the East, rising quickly through the ranks of the KGB. One of my contacts obtained a photograph, and I knew immediately; it could have been my brother staring at me from the picture.
“Sebastian was deeply conflicted. On the one hand, he yearned to contact his long-lost son, but on the other, he knew that to raise his head above the parapet would spell catastrophe for all of us. The Apple of Eden had to remain secure until the Fourth Reich rose again.
“We had comrades in the KGB, and they passed us information about Saxon’s activities; about his rise to Head of Special Projects, his involvement in assassinations and torture, and his eventual estrangement from the FSB and defection to the Fervent Fist. When the World Trade Centre was attacked, it was obvious that my nephew was responsible. I didn’t know what else to do; once again I changed my name and moved on.”
*
“So your nephew had your conversation at Hyde Park re-examined and learned that the Apple of Eden is located beneath the terraces of WTFC. Now he is working his way through the list of possible football grounds until the archive is found.”
“Exactly, Mr Urban-Smith.”
“But he cannot access it without The Atman.”
“Saxon is no fool.” Schwarzkröte tapped the side of his head with a crooked finger. “Would he go to so much effort to find The Apple of Eden if he had no way to open it?”
“What is in the Führer’s archive that the Fervent Fist covets so greatly?”
“Knowledge. Arcane texts, experimental data, archive footage from Unit 731, ancient artefacts, rare biological specimens, chemical formulae and blueprints for weapons of mass destruction, government bonds, bank account details, and a list of storage areas for over two hundred tonnes of Nazi gold. Everything needed to ensure the rise of The Fourth Reich.” His lip curled into an ugly snarl. “Gott!” he spat. “We were such fools!”
Schwarzkröte clenched and unclenched his fists, and a muscle jumped at the corner of his mouth. “Do you know,” said he, leaning forward and raising his voice, “what the Fervent Fist is? What it represents?”
Urban-Smith and I sat silently for a few seconds until it became apparent that the question was not rhetorical.
“Well?” Schwarzkröte demanded.
“I believe that the Fervent Fist is the London franchise of The Illuminati,” said Urban-Smith.
“That is correct. What do you know of The Illuminati?”
“That they are a network of powerful and connected criminal franchises working towards a single goal; a New World Order.”
“Yes, a New World Order. Does that sound familiar, Mr Urban-Smith?”
“For Heaven’s sake, man,” I spluttered, “cut to Hecuba, this place closes at five.”
“Very well, Doctor. Let me explain. After Sebastian’s death, his worldly effects passed to me. Amongst them was a roll of microfilm containing copies of several-hundred documents, the originals of which are in the Apple of Eden.
“One of these was a communique between Illuminati agents, intercepted by the Gestapo. It contained less than two-hundred words, but it was almost enough to change the course of history.”
*
“The Illuminati are not a large organisation. They have barely a million employees worldwide; less than the British National Health Service. Yet despite this, it wields enormous power and influence.
“In order to exercise control over the many by the few, it is in the Illuminati’s interest to maintain a large central government, and it is moving towards this goal by centralising power wherever it can.
“After the American Civil war consolidated the principle of central government in America, the Illuminati devised a plan to bring the governments of Europe and America together by giving them a common enemy; Germany. The first war acted as a catalyst for the creation of the League of Nations, but the League did not have its own military force, and so the Illuminati sought to incite a second war with the sole intention of creating a large military alliance between Europe and America; NATO.
“The war was plotted to the last detail, and would have resulted in victory for the Allies in the spring of 1943, had it not been for the interception of an Illuminati communique pledging its dedication to supporting the Allies against Germany during the imminent Battle of France.
“Such betrayal! The Illuminati had been fundamental in facilitating the Generalplan Ost, offering strategic advice, financial support and personnel, but all along it had been a deception; just a ploy to galvanise the rest of the world against my beloved Germany.
“The Führer was incandescent with rage. He ordered the Gestapo to round up all known Illuminati members to be tortured for information and executed. It quickly became apparent that a Nazi defeat was inevitable if Hitler continued to follow the Illuminati’s military plan, and so our tactics changed, with more focus on rapid attainment of air superiority.
“Our victory over France was rapid and decisive, and this Blitzkrieg strategy was implemented in subsequent campaigns. It proved so successful that the Allies’ only hope lay in recruiting the United States of America, but they had a problem; the Americans had tired of war in Europe, and their president, Roosevelt, had won the 1940 election on the back of his promise not to enter into another foreign war. It took the attack on Pearl Harbour to generate a shift in public opinion, much like the September the eleventh attacks paved the way for the American invasion of Iraq and Afghanistan.
“Hitler knew that the truth would be disastrous to German morale, and so the communique and transcripts of the prisoner interrogations were made classified.”
*
“Can you imagine how I felt when I read that communique? Everything that we had fought
for, all a lie. The Third Reich was nothing but a puppet in the hands of The Illuminati, just a ploy to ensure that we continued to fight until the very end.” Schwarzkröte ground his teeth and his nostrils flared with indignation. “And now they seek to use the Apple of Eden to advance their plans further. Well, I shall not allow it. The Fervent Fist must not be allowed to exploit us further.”
“How can we stop them?” asked Urban-Smith. “They will find it soon enough.”
“You must find the Atman, Mr Urban-Smith. Find it and destroy it.”
“Why should we help?” I asked. “Why not simply approach the authorities, and have the Apple of Eden moved somewhere secure?”
“Which authority did you have in mind, Doctor Harker? The police? The army? Do you think that the Fervent Fist have not infiltrated them both at the highest levels?”
“Where is the Atman, Herr Schwarzkröte?” asked Urban-Smith. “What did Sebastian do with it?”
“Therein lies the mystery,” replied Schwarzkröte. “I understand that you have a talent for unravelling mysteries. That is why I contacted you. In September of 1998, I received word that Sebastian had been taken ill, and I raced to Oxford to be at his side. I was almost too late; his physician was in attendance, as was the local priest. As soon as I entered his bedchamber, I could see that he was not long for this world.
“My poor brother. He was wasted almost to nothing, a mere ghost barely clinging to this life, and I was almost frightened to hold him in case I should break him in half. Although he was delirious, he recognised me and was frantic to speak. He clutched at my sleeve and opened and closed his mouth, and I leaned in close to listen. ‘The Atman,’ he croaked, “you must take the Atman.’ ‘But where is it?” I asked.
“His eyes closed, and for a moment I thought he was gone and his secret with him, but with his dying breath he managed one last whisper. ‘I got soul,’ he said. Just that and nothing more, for then he was gone.”
The Werewolf of Wottenham Wood Page 15