Odessa Reborn: A Terrorism Thriller (Gunner Fox Book 4)

by Bobby Akart

  “Reichsführer Himmler, may I speak freely now?” asked Dr. Blome.

  “Yes, of course.”

  “Based on our present manufacturing capacity at Riems Island, we are capable of producing twelve thousand kilograms of sarin within twelve months. Currently, we have two thousand kilos stockpiled.”

  “You will be provided the resources to step up production,” said Himmler.

  “Yes, thank you, Reichsführer Himmler. There is the matter of the delivery system. Am I to understand that the use of aerial armaments is off the table?”

  “Yes, but only in our battle zones,” Himmler replied. “We are in the process of identifying experten, our highest scoring flying aces, to lead a special fighter force organized under General der Jagdflieger. Herr Herbst from Messerschmitt AG is here to speak to their aircraft.”

  “Thank you, Reichsführer Himmler. We have increased production of the Messerschmitt 262, the Sturmvogel.” Sturmvogel, or Storm Bird, was the fighter-bomber version of the Messerschmitt aircraft. It was faster and more heavily armed than any Allied fighter jet.

  Himmler interrupted. “These advanced aircraft will be dispatched on strategic bombing runs behind our enemies’ lines. They will be capable of carrying a total of five hundred kilograms of sarin.”

  “Am I to focus on other potential delivery systems?” Dr. Blome asked.

  Himmler paused and studied each of the men in the room. He had a response to the scientist’s question, but it was not necessary to inform the others. He’d divulged enough to get Project Tabun underway.

  Chapter Seven

  August 14, 1944

  German Army Kommandantur

  Palais du Rhin

  Strasbourg, France

  After the Franco-Prussian War of 1871, Strasbourg and the rest of Alsace-Lorraine in France was annexed by the kaiser of the German Empire. As the new capital of the province, the kaiser needed a residence symbolic of his imperial power. During the many decades of war in Europe, the massive structure passed hands until it was occupied once again by the Germans in 1944.

  Reichsführer Himmler called a meeting of trusted members of the Nazi party and the military. It had been three weeks since the failed attempt on the life of Hitler at the Wolf’s Lair, his headquarters, in Poland. Known as Operation Valkyrie, or the 20 July Plot, a group of military conspirators and their civilian allies became convinced the only way to save Germany from destruction was to remove Hitler through assassination.

  Led by a young staff officer, Lieutenant Colonel Claus von Stauffenberg, the conspirators stayed one step ahead of the Gestapo, who’d received word that a coup attempt was imminent. Himmler was aware of the coup, and many of the conspirators saw him as a potential ally.

  By mid-July of 1944, Himmler was convinced the war was unwinnable, hence his decision to initiate Project Tabun. However, he wanted no part of the assassination plot. Nor did he want to expose it. Most likely, it was he who would become Hitler’s successor, which would allow him to negotiate a peace with the Allied forces.

  The bomb planted in the Wolf’s Lair conference room was not powerful enough to kill the Nazi leader. The failed assassination attempt served to strengthen the ties between Himmler and Hitler. As a result, Himmler was able to pursue his endeavors counter to the Führer’s wishes with impunity.

  After Operation Valkyrie failed, the upper echelon within the Nazi party began to see the handwriting on the wall. They viewed Hitler as a weak, increasingly unhinged leader, who’d lost the respect of most of his immediate underlings. There were calls for surrender. Also, many contemplated leaving their beloved homeland before they were killed in battle or murdered by the Soviets.

  Himmler was attuned to all of this. Throughout the chaotic events of that summer of 1944, he was able to observe and catalog the activities of the highest-ranking members of the Nazi party as well as business leaders. With his network of political spies, Himmler could identify whom he could trust, and who was still foolishly loyal to Hitler.

  Against that backdrop, the forward-thinking Himmler developed a plan B. While he still had confidence that Project Tabun could turn the tide of the war, on the outside chance it did not, he was looking for an alternative. A means by which he and trusted associates could live to fight another day.

  The idea for his proposal came from Grand Mufti Amin al-Husseini, a Palestinian and Muslim cleric named the chief religious and spiritual leader of Jerusalem by the British government. Al-Husseini was decidedly against Zionism, and as a result of Himmler’s hatred of the Jewish people, the two men had struck up a friendship a year prior to the war.

  When the war broke out, he quickly aligned himself with the fascist governments in Berlin and Rome. As the war turned sour for the Reich, he offered letters of encouragement to Himmler, and in one of those letters, al-Husseini introduced the concept of an escape plan.

  The Mufti warned Himmler that whether the Germans surrendered or were defeated, their country would be a difficult place to live because of their association to the Reich. He suggested they begin to plan for the inevitable—the departure from Germany for a place where they could live out their years in hiding.

  Switzerland remained an option because of its neutrality, but there were no guarantees they’d protect war criminals. The Vatican was also seen as a place of safe refuge. Certain Northern Africa nations were considered as well as South America.

  In any event, to proceed with such a plan required advance planning, and the purpose of this initial meeting in Strasbourg was to lay the groundwork. Himmler reached out to the highest-ranking Nazi party officials whom he knew he could trust. They were important for another reason. These men would form the backbone of a resurgence of the Nazi party after the war, not unlike what Hitler had accomplished after Germany’s defeat in World War I.

  Himmler brought with him Dr. Johann Scheid, director of HESCHO AG, a major military equipment supplier of the Third Reich. Dr. Scheid was also an SS Obergruppenführer, one rank below that of Himmler’s.

  Himmler’s two most trusted associates, Field Marshal Rommel and Adolph Eichmann, arrived a day early to discuss the plan. Eichmann was known as the architect of Hitler’s Final Solution—the elimination of the Jewish people from Europe. He masterminded the Nazi network of death camps, including Auschwitz, Treblinka, and Dachau. The Desert Fox would lead the military.

  The next to arrive was Josef Mengele, the Angel of Death, who conducted macabre, sickening experiments on the prisoners held at Auschwitz. His reputation for utter ruthlessness was admired by both Hitler and Himmler.

  Two SS commanders, Josef Schwammberger and Erich Priebke, arrived together. The two friends would be considered the leaders of a revitalized Gestapo when the time came. One of their counterparts, Gerhard Bohne, arrived at the meeting alone. He was both an SS commander and a lawyer. He was known for his understanding of government affairs, a role that would help shape a future administration led by Himmler.

  The last to arrive was a surprise to all the other attendees, but once the discussions ensued, it became apparent his reasons for joining this who’s who of the Nazi party were obvious. Martin Bormann was the head of the Nazi Party Chancellery. As Hitler’s private secretary, he controlled the flow of information and access to der Führer. If their plans were to evade the scrutiny of Hitler, it would be because of Bormann’s ability to protect all involved.

  In addition, over the years, he had been instrumental in creating an extensive bureaucracy within the Nazi party. He had a hand in every aspect of its operations and could therefore manipulate any information as necessary.

  “Gentlemen, once again, thank you for joining us here today,” began Himmler after dinner and drinks were shared. “I intentionally avoided the topic of conversation during our dinner together so we could all reconnect. The trials and tribulations of war have prevented most social opportunities. I wanted us all to remember we’ve been friends for a very long time.

  “I want to explain what I propose and
, more importantly, how this is not a betrayal of Mein Führer. If anything, it should be viewed as an opportunity to continue our work in the event of defeat or forced surrender.

  “We all have suffered loss during this epic struggle on behalf of our beloved Deutschland. We have also profited. Our efforts should not be wasted because of miscalculations or bad luck, at times. I still believe in the oath to Mein Führer and my promise to Deutschland. In the event our time is not now, then we should prepare for another.”

  “Heinrich, we are but a few,” began Bormann, one of only a handful in attendance who could refer to Himmler by his first name. “I envision an exodus of party leaders and industrialists that would gut the Reich. We can’t all jump ship like a bunch of rats at once. Der Führer will be helpless without us.”

  Himmler nodded. “Understood. This is why I have brought all of you together. Over the next two days, we will talk about the logistics associated with this plan. It will involve smuggling gold, art, and other valuables out of Germany. We will approach our top scientists and industrialists. Our legal experts will secure patents around the globe to protect our work. Our industrialists, bankers, and financiers will make arrangements to expand their existing businesses to other nations.

  “Every aspect of the successes we’ve enjoyed over the last decade will be replicated elsewhere, including the Far East, the Middle East, and even directly under the noses of the Allied forces.”

  “I always wanted to live in New York!” said Eichmann with a chuckle.

  “No, actually, my friend, you’d hate it there,” replied Himmler bluntly.

  “Hollywood?” Eichmann asked.

  “Oh, yes!” replied Mengele. “Lots of communists and whores and little boys.”

  The group began to laugh, and Himmler allowed them a moment of brevity. He was not interested in their depravity. Unlike a few in the room with the exception of Rommel, Himmler believed in the Nazis’ quest for a pure Aryan race. He had no need for immorality or the degeneracy of American show business.

  He continued with a stern voice. “By doing this, we will have the ability to re-establish the Nazi Party through an underground movement, just as we did in the twenties and thirties. The difference will be our vast resources and experience this time.”

  Dr. Scheid spoke up. “I can carefully approach the executives from Volkswagen, Krupp Steel, Brown-Boveri, Zeiss and Leica. May I assume our friends at Messerschmidt are on board?”

  Himmler nodded and winked. “From now on, German industry must realize the war cannot be won and that it must take steps in preparation for a post-war campaign. Our bankers must recognize the future may lie temporarily outside Europe, but the void they leave behind can be filled by our financial allies at Union Bank of Switzerland.”

  “Yes,” exclaimed Mengele. “UBS, the pillar of the banking world in supposedly neutral Switzerland. Those high and mighty fools financed the war for us. They were just too stupid to know it.”

  Once again, the Nazis shared a hearty laugh. Even the usually stoic Himmler smiled. UBS laundered more money for the Nazi Party than any other financial institution in the world. Their numbered accounts were tailor-made for the Nazis’ ill-gotten gains.

  “These are all details that will be worked out over the coming days. From this point forward, this plan will be discussed outside the official quarters of any military or political office of the Reich. Tomorrow, as more join us for discussions, we will be meeting at the Hotel Rotes Haus. The day after that, we’ll convene at the Maison Rouge hotel. Despite our agreement, and for the protection of Martin, we must remain clandestine in our activities. That means no pillow talk with your wives and women. Understood?”

  The group all agreed. The two SS commanders, Schwammberger and Priebke, had remained mostly silent during the conversation. Finally, Priebke asked, “Does this operation have a name?”

  “Yes, it is quite simple,” replied Himmler. “Odessa.”

  Chapter Eight

  Aboard the Victory Casino Cruise Ship

  One Hundred Five Miles East of Brownsville, Texas

  Gulf of Mexico

  Garland was familiar with the insurance company’s approach to piracy on the high seas. When he was with MSC in South Africa, he’d conversed with other captains who’d proposed a contingency plan in the event of an attack of this kind. A senior captain presented it to management, who had insisted upon changes to protect the company from lawsuits. It was later approved with the consent of the insurance companies.

  In South Africa, cruise ships did not carry weapons of any kind, not even a pistol to take down a raving-mad, homicidal heavy loser at the gaming tables. America was different. Over the past decade, it became customary to arm employees of all types. Society had begun to show signs of collapse as Marxist protestors demanded change in the wake of heavy losses to the nation following an asteroid’s remnants striking part of the planet. The ever-impatient Americans were unwilling to allow the nation time to repair, and demanded that more be done. The result was chaos in many cities across the nation.

  The plan adopted relied upon speed and mild maneuvering to keep the boatloads of armed pirates at bay. However, the cruise line was not willing to have the marauding pirates slaughter a great many of its employees and passengers, so they adopted a surrender tactic. Lloyd’s of London, one of the world’s largest ship insurers, apparently agreed. Hence the stand-down order.

  Abduwali strode confidently through the carpeted hall leading to the bridge. He knew exactly which passageway to use and where every door was located as he walked past. He’d carefully studied the deck plan of the Victory after downloading it online several weeks prior.

  Two men accompanied him, armed with AK-47s, holding them at their hips, prepared to fire. He had a sidearm tucked into his black cargo pants, covered by a black tee shirt. To finish off his ensemble, he wore his preferred battle cap bearing the New York Yankees logo.

  The door to the bridge was ajar, and the space was dark except for the ambient light coming from the control panels of the ship. He walked through the entry into a scene from an American slasher movie. He’d seen bullet-riddled bridges before, but this was the worst. All of the windows were shot out, and three dead bodies lay on the once spotless floor covered in glass mixed with blood.

  A man’s silhouette caught his eye. Abduwali pulled a tactical flashlight off the waistband of his pants. He clicked the button and shined the light on the man standing erect near the helm. The captain was spiffily dressed in white with four stripes on his tabs. His once clean uniform was now sprayed with a bloody mist that had turned his shirt a variety of colors from crimson red to light pink.

  The world-renowned pirate pointed the flashlight around the bridge to check for other members of the crew. He paused to survey the carnage. He turned his attention back to the captain, who appeared to be unharmed.

  “Check for weapons!” he ordered his men, who moved toward the captain. They patted him down and then checked the bodies and any compartments on the bridge. The captain remained silent throughout the process.

  Abduwali slowly walked through the bridge to avoid stepping on bodies and blood. He looked through the shattered port windows and craned his neck to check for activity at the rear of the ship. His men were hoisting cans of ammunition and additional weapons with the use of grappling hooks. His orders were to secure all parts of the ship and then prepare for any rescue effort. His fellow pirates, with their special forces training, were fast and efficient in completing their tasks.

  Without a glance, he walked to the other side of the bridge, ignoring the dead and the captain, who continued to stand completely still. His boat had been emptied and tied off to the rear of the ship.

  “You are Captain Garland, correct?” he asked politely, addressing the sole survivor on the bridge for the first time.

  “Yes.”

  “You are going to talk to your crew and passengers on the ship’s communications system. You will say what is written on t
his paper and nothing else. Understood?”

  “Yes,” said Garland as he took the folded sheet of copy paper from Abduwali. He read the typewritten instructions and nodded.

  Below deck, the passengers scrambled for their staterooms and locked the doors. Donna Ruiz, her daughter, Sofia, and her niece, Jenna, hid in their room and barricaded the door with furniture. It was Jenna who had the presence of mind to access the ship’s internet with her iPad.

  They could hear shouting and the cries for help of passengers in the hallway. Occasionally, gunshots rang out as passengers were forced to submit to the orders of the pirates. Because their porthole window had been shot out, they could hear a loud splash just outside their stateroom. The women chose to believe someone had jumped overboard in a desperate attempt to escape.

  She accessed her Gmail account and sent all the details she’d observed to her father’s personal and official congressional email addresses. Then she copied and pasted the email and forwarded it to her uncle, her mother, her boyfriend, and her best friend. She relayed to them she’d email as often as possible, and if the ship’s bandwidth allowed, she’d broadcast live on Facebook.

  She paused as the sound of footsteps outside their room could be heard. The door handle twisted slightly, but the lock prevented it from opening. Seconds later, another gunshot rang out, and the person outside their door rushed off.

  Jenna sent the last email, and the three women huddled in the corner of the room as far away from the door as possible. Then the captain made an announcement.

  On the bridge, Garland’s hand shook as he held the note. Abduwali used his flashlight to illuminate the words the captain was to announce to the ship. He was growing impatient with Garland’s hesitation, so he shouted in his ear, “Now!”