GOLDEN REICH

by Mark Donahue

  Lester, despite the violence that had become part of his life, was a man with deep convictions and an unwavering sense of right and wrong. Rolle was far more pragmatic in his use of violence. It was simply a means to an end. Unlike Lester, Rolle would not lose a minute’s sleep over someone he had ordered killed or had killed himself.

  Facing each other in the darkness of the office, each man had the opportunity to kill the other, but their respective responsibilities dictated that they maintain their partnership, at least for the time being. While Lester never doubted that he was the intellectual equal of the man across the table, Rolle had only arrived at that conclusion an hour earlier. While the recognition of that fact made Lester a far more formidable adversary, it also made him a more valuable ally, even if only for the next twelve hours.

  The agreement between the two men was simple. Lester would help Rolle temporarily disarm the remaining six guards at the front gate and await the delivery of the gold. After it arrived, the majority of the twenty-four guards from the twelve incoming trucks would be ordered to leave the Jasper in ten of those trucks and await further orders at a predetermined point, fifty miles from the mine.

  The reality was those guards would never hear from Rolle or anyone else again. As a result, they would eventually disappear into various parts of America to start new lives or perhaps even return to Germany after the war. They would also be warned if they ever returned to the Jasper, they and their families back in Germany would be executed.

  From the six remaining guards in the Jasper and several from the twenty-four delivering the gold, Rolle would select a handful to help him secure the gold until the war ended, and it could be returned to Germany. Of course, Rolle was already thinking how he could kill those guards whom he would choose because he could never risk that many men knowing the gold’s exact location within the mine.

  After the gold was delivered, and in exchange for his help in neutralizing the six remaining guards left in the mine, Rolle agreed to allow Lester to take one of the twelve gold-laden trucks and leave the mine.

  Despite his agreement with Lester, Rolle had concluded that when the opportunity arose, he would kill Lester as well, rather than allow him to drive off with millions of dollars of German gold into the Arizona night. It was not just the gold that Lester would be taking that prompted Rolle’s decision; it was also that Lester was a loose end that Rolle would prefer to eliminate, if possible. But Rolle also knew that killing the American hobo was not going to be an easy task.

  Lester obviously did not trust him, and Rolle knew that. Yet, for some reason, if he was not able to kill Lester, he believed him when he said he would take no more gold than they had agreed to, and he would never tell anyone about the gold or what had transpired at the Jasper.

  After making his agreement with Rolle, Lester had melted into the darkness of the cavern and embarked on the plan to neutralize the six remaining guards. Walking through the remnants of the blown-up wooden door at the back of the cavern, he entered the shaft and saw the three dead guards. Using his flashlight, Lester found his old Colt that he had let slide down the shaft the night before. He lifted two Lugers and a machine gun with five clips from the dead German guards. Lester reentered the wider of the two shafts and found his ascent to the surface considerably faster and easier than the night before given how the grenades had augured the shaft by at least six inches.

  Back on the surface of the mine, Lester began to make his way down the eastern slope of the hill, one which would bring him a half mile north of where the six remaining guards, including the major, were manning their posts. Even though it was the long way off the hill, over the next hour Lester would slowly move southward, which would place him just fifty yards from where the remaining guards were positioned.

  Once he was in place, Lester would wait for Rolle to order the major to join him in the cavern office to discuss the arrival of the trucks later in the afternoon. That would leave only five guards at their posts and increase Lester’s chances.

  Arriving on schedule and within yards of their position, Lester was unable to see the guards who were hidden in the rocks that overlooked the road. The guards were all within a fifty-yard radius of one another and made audible sounds to ensure that each was still at his position and alive. The men also talked to each other in low murmurs that carried easily over hundreds of yards in the thin desert air before fading. Sometime a nervous laugh would emanate from one of the men. Lester could hear the tension in their voices.

  Picking up some of the German words, Lester determined the men were talking about home. He remembered his soldiering days and recalled that was all he and his men talked about while lying in the blood and muck of the trenches so many years before. Lester hoped the men could be disarmed without any more killing. Too many had already died.

  Wedged in a cluster of rocks, Lester waited twenty minutes and finally heard Rolle’s voice in the distance. All other talking stopped as the major left the others, walked back toward the mine, and engaged in conversation with Rolle who was apparently asking him to bring two or three men with him and join Rolle in the cavern. While he could not pick up all the words, Lester figured out the major objected to leaving his men and depleting his strength at their current position. Calming him, Rolle explained that he felt vulnerable in the cavern and wanted to make sure that he had some armed protection inside as well as outside. In addition, he needed to discuss the truck schedule with the major.

  Hearing nothing for several seconds, Lester assumed the major was mulling over his situation and that of his men. The major was also keenly aware that an unknown group of men somewhere in or near the mine had systematically killed thirteen of his troops the night before. Whoever these men were, the major now knew they were highly trained, disciplined, and fearless. They also knew the terrain far better than his men. The major realized his men were, despite their experience and bravado, jumpy and although they would never admit it, scared.

  The major finally agreed to take only one man from his post, and along with Rolle, the three men began the half-mile walk back to the cavern. Hearing the men’s voices moving away from the rocks that hid the four remaining guards, Lester waited until he was sure that Rolle and the two other men were out of earshot.

  The four guards that remained in the rocks soon returned to their muted conversations. By the sounds and intonation of their voices, Lester could tell they had all moved to within twenty-five yards of the main entrance and appeared even more nervous than before.

  The guard closest to Lester was on his stomach facing south with a clear view of at least three miles of dirt road. Twenty-five feet to his left and twenty feet above him, a second guard could also see the dirt road and into the main drive leading to the mine. The other two guards were east of their companions and could see the dirt road heading north. While each guard could see the entrance into the mine and the dirt road in both directions, they covered a limited area geographically and more importantly, they couldn’t see each other.

  But Lester couldn’t see them either, and while he knew their general locations, he was not in a position to get a shot at any of them. Even with the odds now only four to one, Lester did not underestimate the remaining Germans. He knew their edginess made them all the more dangerous.

  Trying to get in a position where he could see at least one of the guards, Lester tried unsuccessfully to climb up a four-foot high rock. As he slid back down the slippery surface, the sound reverberated, and he knew the guards had heard him skitter down the rock face. Suddenly quiet, the guards listened for the sound to return, but Lester was motionless. Hearing muffled voices, the guards were trying to determine what to do next. Finally, echoed footsteps emanated from the position of the guard nearest Lester. The scraping of leather boot against rock indicated that the guard had decided to investigate the sound and was trying to navigate the boulders around him.

  Tucked up and under the overhang
of the rock he had tried and failed to climb, Lester held his position. Hearing the footsteps of the guard coming closer, Lester pulled one of the .45’s from his belt. Without warning, two large feet suddenly came flying from above and landed with a dusty clomp three feet in front of Lester. Now staring at the back of two knee-high brown military boots, Lester moved quickly and from a kneeling position on his left knee shoved the barrel of the .45 into the back of the scrotum of the young German. Motionless, the soldier looked down between his legs and let out a low moan knowing the result of a .45 shell tearing through his testicles on its way to his intestines, stomach, heart and lungs.

  Staying in his kneeled position, Lester moved to the left side of the guard and looked up at the tall German, smiled, and put his finger to his lips. Taking the guard’s rifle with his left hand and placing it behind him, Lester slowly rose on the guard’s left side and as he did so, he brought the .45’s barrel upward and placed it on the left temple of the guard. With his lips next to the guard’s ear, Lester whispered, “You speak English?” Nodding slowly, the guard kept his eyes forward not looking at Lester.

  “That’s good, ’cause my German ain’t what it used to be. What’s your name, boy?” Rolle asked.

  “Eric.” A hoarse voice whispered.

  “Last name?”

  “Schneider. My name is Eric Warner Schneider.”

  “How old are you, son?”

  “Twenty-one.”

  “Damn I was twenty-one once, ’bout a hundred years ago. Well, Eric Warner Schneider, we got ourselves a little problem here, don’t we? But if you decide to help me out, you and your friends may be able to be home in a few weeks. If you don’t help me out, it’s real likely you and your friends will be as dead as the rest of the men you sent after me and my troops last night.”

  Saying nothing, the now sweating guard continued to stare ahead. Lester was taken by how young the guard looked. While a muscular six feet five and well over 200 pounds, it did not appear that the handsome young man had even begun shaving. Yet, here he was trying to protect the future wealth of Germany in an American desert.

  Motioning the guard to move from their current position to an area further east, the two men made their way up and over several large boulders and came to rest in a position that allowed a clear view of the alcove they had occupied minutes before.

  With the .45 pressed in the back of Eric’s head, Lester waited for some activity or sound from the three remaining guards. Finally, a half-whispered “Eric?” came from the rocks. After thirty more seconds, another “Eric” came forth, this time a bit louder. Then two of the remaining three guards, weapons drawn, leaped over the rocks into the alcove. The larger of the two landed in the same spot Eric had come down on moments before, his partner landed four feet to his left.

  Lester wasted no time. He pocketed the .45, then raised the machine gun and fired a burst in the air. The two guards fifteen feet below them in the alcove froze. While he could not be seen, Lester had a clear view of both guards who were on their knees back to back with their weapons at the ready.

  Lowering the machine gun and placing it under Eric’s chin Lester quietly asked, “Do your friends speak English, Eric?”

  Saying nothing, the young German continued to stare straight ahead.

  “Eric, I could have killed you and both your friends just now. I’m tryin’ my level best to get you boys back home to your mamas, but you ain’t helpin’ me none. Now, I’m gonna ask you one more time, do your friends speak English?”

  “Yes.”

  “Thanks, boy.”

  Speaking in a calm, slow voice almost like a fatherly coach talking to his players before the big game, Lester said, “Hey boys, I think ya’ll might be in a tough situation. I can see you, but you can’t see me. I could shoot you both right now along with Eric here, but don’t rightly want to do that. If you throw your rifles and those pistols out of that pit ya’ll are in, and then tell that friend of yours to join ya’ll, then there ain’t no reason in the world why you boys can’t be home in a few weeks.”

  With the sound of his voice bouncing off the rocks the two young Germans could not tell where Lester’s voice was coming from. They turned their heads constantly trying to pick up the direction. The smaller of the two guards suddenly tried to scramble up the rocks and out of the alcove. Using Eric’s shoulder as a platform, Lester squeezed off two quick rounds from his machine gun and the shells hit the rock the German was trying to scale two feet above his right hand. The sound of the ricocheting bullets made it sound like ten shots, not two, had been fired, and the young German fell backward on his butt at the feet of the second guard who in one motion threw his weapons up over the rocks and stood with both hands in the air.

  Saying something in German to his braver but not wiser companion, the guard on the ground also unbuckled his sidearm and tossed both weapons in the same direction as the first.

  “That’s good, boys. Now tell your friend to join you and do the same thing.”

  Without having to say a word, the final guard jumped into the increasingly crowded alcove, and almost eagerly threw his weapons over the rocks.

  The four tough German guards suddenly looked like four young boys who would at that moment have much rather been just about anywhere else in the world but in a hot desert in a strange land surrounded by American troops.

  Moving from his position, Lester pushed Eric in front of him, and they made their way to a position six feet above the three guards now sitting in the sandy alcove. “Why don’t you boys make some room for Eric here.”

  Motioning for Eric to join his friends, the young German jumped into the sand pit and all four guards sat in a circle and looked up at Lester in silence like boy scouts looking up at their scout master.

  “Like I said before, ain’t no reason why you boys can’t be home soon if you all cooperate and...”

  Lester was interrupted by the sound of two quick shots in rapid succession then a third and fourth several seconds later.

  Reacting to the shots, the four guards in the pit started to rise.

  “Why don’t you boys just sit right on back down and relax.” Lester said motioning with his machine gun.

  Clearly shaken over the events of the previous twenty-four hours, the young Germans offered no resistance to Lester and immediately sat back down.

  Maintaining his position, Lester was able to keep an eye on the four guards and still see most of the dirt road that led to the cavern. Five minutes after the four shots, Lester saw a lone figure walking toward his position. Pistol dangling by his side, Rolle walked slowly and deliberately. Calmly, he called out in German for the remainder of the guards not knowing that Lester had already neutralized them.

  “Mister, over here,” Lester yelled.

  Rolle appeared surprised that it was Lester who had responded to him as he moved toward his position. As he walked closer, Lester briefly thought about shooting Rolle right then and there thus eliminating any potential problems that he was quite certain would eventually arise with him. Problems like Rolle killing him. But Lester didn’t shoot.

  Moving from the shadows of the rocks, Lester could see blood stains on Rolle’s shirt and when he was in earshot he asked, “What was all the shootin’ about?”

  Nonchalantly, Rolle answered, “The major and lieutenant have been eliminated.”

  The detail he neglected to provide was that Rolle had decided on the spur of the moment to kill the two guards when they turned their back on him to look over maps that were laid over the hood of the Lincoln after they had seen Becker’s body in the front seat.

  As the major turned to Rolle to ask about Becker, Rolle pulled the Luger from his belt and shot him in the forehead. Shocked, the young lieutenant stood motionless as Rolle shot him once in the chest. As the two men thrashed in the dust, Rolle shot each in the temple and then walked back toward Lester and the re
maining guards.

  Lester had killed men before both in the heat of battle like in the last twenty-four hours and once because a man deserved it, but it wasn’t something he enjoyed and often suffered nightmares about having shot a man thirty years before in the war. Rolle’s apparent arrogance and indifference about killing two countrymen confirmed what Lester had believed about Rolle from the time he met him; only one of them would be alive when this adventure ended.

  Chapter 36

  Elsa’s—2014

  After their confrontation with Jim the Asshole, Tom, Jon, and Ben spent the rest of the morning in the booth at Elsa’s getting to know one another and sketching out some plans. They stayed so long they felt obligated to order lunch. As they spoke, it was clear that Ben’s stated indifference about finding a large cache of gold was not entirely accurate. However, his reasons for wanting to find gold were different than most. As he had stated to Jon and Tom before, he was too old at 73 to really care about becoming rich. That was because he was already rich. Very rich. Speculating in Southern California real estate in the thirty years after World War II, Ben had made tens of millions by the time he was forty. Later, through shrewd stock market and other investments, including going into the aviation business that furthered his love of flying, he decided to retire and take up full time his hobby of archeology. Flying throughout the world, he studied and participated in archeological digs in Egypt, Greece, Mexico, Peru, and even looked for dinosaur bones in the Badlands of New Mexico.