by Gary Jonas
They collapsed at her feet.
“The Master Race will have concussions when they wake up,” she said.
“Nicely done,” Cole said. “I think I’m in love.”
“Keep it in your pants, Cole,” Kelly said.
Maria pointed to Carl and Curtis. “You two keep an eye on the soldiers.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Carl said.
The rest of us went up the walkway to the front door.
Esther tried again to pass through the door, but it bounced her back.
“Wards,” I said.
“And how,” she said.
Cole tried to open the door, but his hand bounced back from the doorknob.
“I can’t touch it,” he said.
“I’ll do the honors,” I said, and turned the knob.
It was locked.
“Hold on a second,” I said, and took a few tools out of my wallet. I worked thin metal sticks into the lock, and went to work jiggling and prodding. I’d learned to pick locks, but it had been a while since I applied that skill, so it took longer than it should have.
Finally, the tumblers fell into place, and I opened the door. I stepped into the house, and looked around at the large entryway. A stairwell went to a second level, and a library room stood off to the left. Straight ahead was a hallway to other rooms.
“Come on in,” I said.
Kelly tried to follow me, but she bounced off the wards.
“Dammit,” she said.
Maria reached out and couldn’t push her hand through either.
“Powerful magic,” she said. “How did you get through the field?”
“I walked,” I said, and scanned the top of the doorway for any magical wards. There weren’t any.
I went into the library room, and opened a window. There wasn’t a screen. I leaned out. “Come in this way,” I said.
Again, they tried to enter, but were blocked.
“I guess I’m on my own,” I said. “I’ll search the house. Maria, try again to make contact. Maybe with the open window, you can communicate.”
“I’ll try.”
“Cool. I’ll be back in a few,” I said, and set off to investigate the house.
CHAPTER TEN
The main level of the house looked like a typical building with updated modern furnishings, and no one was home. It could have been any home in any well-to-do neighborhood. A mix of old fashioned classic taste with more modern additions.
In a back room, a table stood on a rug, and that struck me as odd since the rug seemed to be at an off-angle. I bent down and pulled on the edge of the rug. It slid with ease, taking the table with it, and revealed a door in the floor.
I lifted the door up and over to reveal concrete steps going down into a bunker. I pulled out my cellphone, clicked on the flashlight app and descended the stairs.
The flashlight illuminated a large room with big red flags hung on the walls with white circles and black swastikas. Seeing them someplace other than a museum gave a twinge to my stomach and my instant reaction was a visceral feeling of being surrounded by evil.
Swastikas were originally a symbol of protection, but after the Nazis commandeered it, the symbol had been forever tainted.
“What the hell?” I said softly.
A row of bookshelves lined one wall, and a glass case filled with curiosities stood in the center of the room. I went to the case, and held my light on a variety of Nazi items. A death’s head ring sat on a piece of red silk with yet another swastika emblazoned on a white circle. The ring had a small white card in front of it as if it were from a museum. The card read, totenkopf.
Black boots stood on the bottom shelf, and a black SS uniform sat folded on the center shelf. A bunch of trinkets and booklets were spread out on the sides.
“That’s one of the original SS-Ehrenrings,” a male voice with a heavy German accent said from behind me.
I spun around, instantly dropping into a fighting stance, but the light showed an obese old man holding up puffy hands.
“I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said, reaching over to flip on an overhead light. “I rarely get visitors. “You should take the ring. I understand they bring significant prices on the black market.”
“Who are you?”
He shook his head. “That no longer matters.”
“Tell me anyway.”
“My name is Theodor Morell.”
“The name sounds familiar.”
He nodded. “I was Adolf Hitler’s physician.”
“No way,” I said. “He died back in the forties.”
“Yes, the story is that I was captured by American forces, interrogated, and held at Buchenwald, where I died, but that was not me.”
I’d read Elie Weisel’s Night, a short book that made a big impression, so I knew a bit about the horrors of both Auschwitz and Buchenwald.
“And you expect me to believe you’re over a hundred years old?”
“One hundred thirty-one at the moment.”
“You don’t look a day over eighty.”
He shrugged. “Please, join me in the other room.”
He led me around a corner to a bedroom. It was spare. Just a rickety bed with old sheets, and a beat-up dresser. He sat on the bed, and clicked a lamp on.
I shut off the flashlight app.
“They will be back in a few hours,” Theodor said. “Who sent you? Was it Himmler?”
“Heinrich Himmler died in 1945,” I said.
“He was here last year, and I can assure you, he was very much alive at that point.”
“Nonsense.”
“You are American?”
I nodded.
“Are you one of Strughold’s men?”
“Who?”
“Dr. Hubertus Strughold.”
“Never met him.”
Theodor nodded. “He was one of the doctors taken to America under Operation Paperclip.”
I’d lived a lifetime since learning about Operation Paperclip, and I couldn’t come up with anything about anyone other than Wehrner Von Braun, and that was mostly because of the Tom Lehrer song.
“Was he one of the doctors at Dachau?” I asked.
Theodor nodded. “Yes, he was. Are you from his group?”
“Maybe you should fill me in on what’s going on here.”
“You’re not from any of the groups, are you?”
“Tell me about the groups.”
He smiled. “I will answer your questions if you make me a promise and keep it.”
“What’s that?”
“Kill me before you leave this room.”
That wasn’t what I expected to hear. “Really?”
“I should have died many years ago. I’ve been a prisoner here for decades. Sometimes they forget to feed me, and leave me here for months.”
“That would kill you,” I said, remembering Maria’s comment about sensing someone more dead than alive.
He shook his head, then pointed at the dresser. “Open the top drawer.”
I did as he said. When I slid the drawer open, I saw a wooden case with a swastika carved into the top. I lifted the case, set it on top of the dresser, and opened the lid.
Inside was a syringe. There was a glowing yellow liquid inside the tube, and a bunch of vials of the yellow stuff stacked underneath the syringe.
“Strong magic,” he said. “A dose per year, and provided I remain inside this house, I’m essentially immortal. Anything that does not destroy the body or brain is not fatal. I don’t need to eat or drink, though I feel better if I do. I’ve been holding out for so many years, hoping someone like you would show up. I’ll tell you what I know so you can stop them. But you must promise to kill me.”
I lifted the syringe, and stared at it. The glowing liquid gave off an energy that made the syringe feel alive in my hands. I put it back in the box.
“Is this some kind of super serum to create invincible Aryan soldiers?”
“Not quite. If you survive the injec
tions, you’ll initially grow younger, but if you spend time in the world, away from a spell like the one protecting this house, you’ll need more and more injections to maintain, and eventually, you grow old and die anyway. I gave injections to the Führer for years. He had stomach problems, and developed shakes and twitches, but eventually, the serum worked.”
“Hold on a second,” I said. “You’re telling me Hitler is alive?”
He shook his head. “No. Hitler died in 1970 on the orders of his betrayer, Heinrich Himmler.”
“Where is he buried?”
“I don’t know.”
“What do you know about Hitler getting out of the bunker and making his way to Argentina?”
“Is that the information you want? I can tell you of far more important things.”
“I need Hitler’s skull,” I said. “So I need to know where he went.”
He waved his hands and an image appeared in the air of Hitler speaking before a group. There was no sound, but the image was in color.
“After his final public appearance on April 20, 1945, he went to the Führerbunker, but the next morning, we left through the tunnels.”
He moved his hands and the scene shifted to underground tunnels, dark except where lit by flashlights.
“What is it about Nazis and tunnels?”
“We could hide our movements, and follow tunnels anywhere in Berlin. Hitler shaved his mustache, and I led him and his wife, Eva, through the tunnels to Tempelhof, where we met up with Hanna Reitsch.”
His hands waved and the image shifted to Hitler sans mustache moving with Eva Braun to join a dark-haired woman in front of an airplane that had a swastika on the tailfin.
“The Russians were closing in,” he continued, “so we had to get out of there. Nine flights left the airport that day, including ours. Hanna flew us to Spain.”
“Just like that?”
He gave me a sad smile. “We were nearly shot down, but we made it. We landed in a field in Spain, spent some time in a monastery, then worked our way to the port of Vigo, where we caught a ride on a U-boat to the Canary Islands.”
Again the image shifted from a dark field at night to the inside of a small room, probably from the monastery to more tunnels, to a U-boat in a bay.
“This was April or May of 1945?” I asked. “I thought the U-boats were ordered to surrender.”
“Many did. But many did not. We’d been transporting wolfram from Vigo for years.”
“What’s wolfram?”
“A chemical we used to make Tungsten steel for our tanks. In any case, Franco was supportive of our plans, so we had no problem leaving Spain to go to the Canary Islands.”
The image between his hands turned to a massive base with a hoist running from one end to the other as it loaded torpedoes into a U-boat.
“Why stop? A U-boat can travel thousands of miles without refueling.”
“True, but I was still giving Hitler his magical injections, and he needed time to recover. We took another U-boat to Argentina, and arrived in June 1945 at San Antonio Oeste. From there we went to Bariloche, and I finished the treatments. We’ve improved the formula since then, of course. Now, if the subject remains in a protected area, a treatment per year is sufficient, though it doesn’t bestow any additional power. Hitler wanted power.”
Now the image shifted to another underground bunker. No windows, but plenty of furniture, books, and Nazi tapestries on the walls.
“Where is Bariloche? Sorry, Argentina geography is not my strong suit.”
He shook his hands and the image disappeared.
“It does not matter. We have a compound near there on an island, but you can’t get there. It’s heavily guarded whenever anyone important is staying there.”
“Like Hitler?”
“When he was alive, yes. These days, Himmler is the Führer. He doesn’t come to Argentina much. He prefers his castles in Germany.”
“So Himmler took the injections too?”
“Not at first. When he grew older and his health failed him, he decided to try the serum. He didn’t have the same adverse effects that Hitler did because of the adjustments to the formula. As such, he took to the injections much better, and regained his youthful vitality. He felt his occult rituals helped. But the effects are wearing off faster with each shot. He doesn’t want to spend his days in a magically fortified compound. Himmler wants real immortality.”
“And all of this is leading to what, the rise of the Fourth Reich?”
Theodor nodded. “With the armies they’ve assembled, and the recruits they have throughout the world, they will rise up and take over, and there’s nothing anyone can do to stop them.”
“If only I had a nickel for every time someone said that to me,” I said. “All right, Theodor, on your feet.”
“You will kill me now?”
“Your info has to check out first, and I’ll need more to go on than what you’ve told me so far.”
“I can’t go with you.”
“Sure you can. We’ll pack up some clothes for you, and we’ll be on our way.”
“In order to get in here, you had to use some powerful magic, so you have to know the purpose of the shielding around the house.”
“Not really,” I said. I looked around the room for a suitcase or duffel bag. “You have something to pack some clothes in?”
“I can’t leave this place.”
“I’m not giving you a choice.”
“With the injections, and within the shield, I’m fine. If I step through the shield, I will set off an alarm. In addition, I will age quickly and die, which is fine, but it will be painful. I wish to have a quick death.”
“Right, Theodor. The problem here is that I don’t believe you. I’ll give you some credit. You spin a fun yarn, but if there were armies of Nazis all around the world, I think I’d know.”
“There are signs,” he said. “Impossible to miss. When they are nearly ready, they will walk in the open and fly their flags. If there’s little to no resistance, they will grow bolder, because it will mean the world leaders in America and Russia are under Himmler’s control.”
I thought about Charlottesville where Nazis and white supremacists walked with tiki torches through the town. I considered the lack of resistance from the President.
“Fine people on both sides, my ass,” I said under my breath.
“What?”
“Nothing,” I said. “Pack your bags. You’re coming to Córdoba with us.”
“You shouldn’t stay in Córdoba. Himmler has men there.”
“Good for him,” I said.
“Please,” Theodor said. “Just kill me. You promised.”
“I’m not a murderer,” I said. “But if your info checks out, you can take the final exit if you want.”
I grabbed the box holding the syringe and the vials. I opened the lid, and flipped the box over, giving it a hard shake.
The vials fell to the concrete floor and shattered.
“If you’re telling the truth, I don’t want any more long-lived Nazi assholes to deal with.”
“Assholes?” he asked.
“It has an SS in there, so it fits.”
“They have more of the solution in Bariloche and at Wewelsburg.”
“I’ll worry about that another time. Get your stuff.”
“You wish me to die in pain?”
“I want you to help us get Hitler’s skull. You speak at least German and English.”
“And Spanish, French, and Italian.”
“Cool. You’ll be extra useful.”
He sighed. “If I’m leaving here, I won’t need anything. I won’t make it fifty feet.”
“Whatever, dude.”
“I told you, I’ve held out for so many years, hoping someone would finally put an end to Himmler and his plan. You are the one who can succeed.”
“And I’ll need your help. Let’s go.”
He shook his head. “You were able to enter the house while the s
hield is active. You can step through the barrier Himmler will set up at Wewelsburg. My work is done. Shoot me so I can die quickly. I don’t mind dying. Just promise me that you’ll stop Himmler.”
“Let’s get out of here. We’ll get you some new clothes, a nice, hot shower, a safe place to sleep, a good meal, and you’ll feel like a brand new man.”
Theodor smiled. “That’s not how it works. Let me tell you what will happen. If I step through the front door, alarms will go off. I will die. Then men with guns will show up and try to kill you.”
“At least you qualified it by saying they’d try.”
He walked into the next room, where he opened the case and took out the death’s head ring. He tossed it to me.
“Take this. It’s worth a lot of money. Now kill me here so the alarms don’t go off. I’m ready to die, but you need to survive to deal with Himmler.”
I looked at the ring. I didn’t want it, but it wasn’t worth arguing about, so I tucked it into my pocket.
I motioned for him to go up the concrete stairs.
Theodor sighed and led the way out of the bunker.
We walked to the front door, and he stopped. “I gave you the information you asked for. Please, this is your last opportunity for you to just kill me inside the house.”
“How many times do I have to tell you no?”
“And how many times do I have to tell you the shields are to keep me inside, and to prevent intruders from entering? Alarms will alert the true believers.”
“You’ll be fine,” I said. I opened the door, and when he tried to move away, I grabbed him and pushed him out onto the porch.
As soon as he stumbled outside, he screamed and dropped to his knees.
“Jesus,” I said, thinking he was faking it.
He put his hands to his head as he crumpled forward. His skin slid off his bones and dropped to the steps with a splat. Blood spilled on the ground, and he collapsed.
His scream ended and all that remained was a bloody clothed skeleton with pieces of rotting flesh in a puddle of blood on the porch.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Kelly slipped out from her hiding place and gazed at the mess. She raised an eyebrow. “Hmm,” she said. “Did you show him the Ark of the Covenant?”
Esther popped into view and stared at the remains. “That’s disgusting,” she said.