As lights began to go on in the building, Cockran quickly scanned the windows. “The first and second floors look like some sort of light manufacturing space. The third and fourth floors appear to be offices. What I can’t figure out is the fifth floor.”
The fifth floor was essentially an oval like the rest of the building but it was set back a good fifteen feet from the building’s edge, a three-foot high stainless steel railing encircling it.
“With the sun at our backs reflecting off the glass, I can’t see in the fifth floor unless someone turns on a light,” Cockran said. The fifth floor’s windows curved around at either end but the rest of the fifth floor had no windows of any kind. Strange because that meant most of the fifth floor had no direct view of either the Danube or the cathedral, the city’s most well-known landmarks.
“If they’re in there,” Sturm said, “it will be on the fifth floor. The rest of the building is devoted to commerce. How do we proceed?” he asked, once more deferring to Cockran.
“Let’s get you dressed up again,” Cockran said, referring to Sturm’s SS uniform, stowed in the boot of the motorcar. “We’ll drive past the main entrance and have you pull another surprise inspection. If you see SS in the lobby, let’s hope no one tipped them off about you.”
“And if there are no SS in the lobby?” Sturm asked.
“Hell, dress down the receptionist anyway. Demand to see the man in charge of building security. If they don’t have one, that will tell us a lot.”
“Yes. The twins are not there,” Sturm said.
“Exactly. But if there is security …,” Cockran continued.
Sturm nodded in agreement and went to retrieve his SS uniform. “If the twins are there,” Sturm said, once he had the uniform on, “we can decide whether it is prudent to seek the assistance of that Kapitän Bloem I mentioned moments ago or even the local party gauleiter, Herr Vokshul. Once they hear from me that Verschuer is using a pair of Jewish twins in his experiments and that I’m here to stop it, we may see some cooperation.” Sturm paused and looked both men in the eyes. “It all depends how this uniform is received and how I assess the building’s security. We must proceed as if time were of the essence. Because it may well be.” Sturm then lowered his voice and spoke almost confidentially to Cockran. “The Nazis will soon be the largest party in Germany because Hitler is not like other politicians. He does not pander to narrow interests like other parties. He does not appeal to them as farmers or laborers, middle class or intellectuals. He urges them to rise above their personal interests and think first of Germany.” He shrugged. “Unfortunately, anti-Semitism is prominent among some of those people around Hitler. Himmler is one of them. Goebbels is another. I regret this. I wish it were not so. I do not share their beliefs and there are many party members who feel as I do. Even Hitler once said to me ‘A man cannot help how he was born’.”
Cockran didn’t reply. He wasn’t so sure about Hitler but Sturm seemed to be seeking understanding from him for having joined the party, apologizing for the ugly underside of its more prominent members. Cockran didn’t know what to make of it. Why did Sturm care? Whatever the reason, he was beginning to see the complex side of this poster boy for Aryan manhood which had so attracted and still fascinated Mattie. He already knew about the man’s ruthless side. Had that also fascinated Mattie? It didn’t matter. It just felt good to have someone as ruthless and competent as Sturm by his side as they set out to rescue the woman they loved.
Fifteen minutes after dropping Sturm off in front of the building, Cockran returned and pulled the big Mercedes up beside the main entrance. With a soft cap over his forehead and Sullivan in the back seat, he could pass for a chauffeur as they waited for Sturm to appear. The other two Apostles were waiting for them at a café in the next block. Ten minutes later, Cockran began to be concerned. Both Apostles could speak German, but no one would mistake them for natives. They needed Sturm as much for his language abilities as they did his skill with firearms. Five minutes later, Sturm strode out of the building as if he owned it.
“All the guards are on the fifth floor.’ Sturm said. “It’s accessible by a passenger elevator but a key is needed to unlcock the elevator controls to make it to the fifth floor. There’s also a freight elevator to the fourth floor and a stairwell from there to the fifth floor. But the door to the fifth floor is locked. No one makes it to the fifth floor without a key.”
“Damn!” Cockran said as he ran his hand through his hair. “I have no idea how to pick a lock on an elevator. That leaves all five of us bunched up in the stairwell while I pick that lock.”
Sturm smiled, reached inside his black tunic and pulled out a ring of keys. “The office manager was very helpful. This is the key for the passenger elevator; this one for the freight elevator and this one for the fifth floor door off the stairwell. The freight elevator only goes to the fourth floor so I suggest, Herr Cockran, that you take the freight elevator to the fourth floor and the stairwell to the fifth. The rest of us will use the passenger elevator. If we synchronize our watches, the focus of the SS will be on the passenger elevator opening while you attack from their flank.
“Only two guards?” Cockran asked.
“Six, actually, but they pull eight-hour shifts. Two will be sleeping and the two who just went off duty will be having breakfast in the small fifth floor cafeteria.”
“Are the twins there?” Cockran asked.
“It seems likely. The receptionist said the night clerk’s log showed that five people signed in to the fifth floor in the middle of the night.”
Bingo! Cockran thought. That would account for everyone. Mattie, Hudson, Ingrid and the Andersen twins. “Silenced weapons?” he asked.
Sturm said nothing but Cockran caught his eye and gave him a crisp nod.
“So we don’t visit local party headquarters or call in the police?” Cockran asked.
Sturm looked at Cockran, his face still cold as he slowly shook his head from side to side and slowly drew his thumb across his neck, its meaning unmistakable..
83.
Because We Are Patriots
I.C.E. Building
Regensburg, Germany
Friday, 3 June 1932
WHEN will you kill the two women?” Hudson asked as he rubbed his wrists with his hands after Verschuer’s scalpel had severed his bonds.
Verschuer shrugged. “Tomorrow at the latest. It’s not my choice alone.”
“It’s not?” Waterman asked.
“The women are useless to us but Mengele will claim they should be kept alive until he has performed his sperm migration studies. I have serious doubts as to his scientific motivation. Don’t get me wrong. Sperm migration studies when impregnating twins helps to unlock the secret of multiple births. But studies on woman who are not twins? I’m not so sure. Still, our Josef rarely passes up an opportunity to insert a speculum inside attractive women.”
Verschuer watched closely to see how Waterman and Hudson reacted to this. After all, they were important men. Hudson was the liaison between the Gemini Project and the U.S. Army’s MID, the primary government sponsor of his clinic near Passau. Waterman was the conduit for Rockefeller and Carnegie money as well as untraceable funds from him and MID itself.
“Otmar, my people are not pleased at how this entire project has been handled,” Hudson said as he pulled out a long cigar and lit it. “Leaving ten bodies scattered around the United States is not the smartest thing you Germans have ever done. Our people, after all, were only following your orders. May we assume that at least the SS ambush in the forest has taken care of Cockran and the Irishman as well as that nosy kraut von Sturm?”
“I’ve received no report as yet because the telephone lines are down at the clinic. I expect Josef will have a full report for me when he arrives. I have no doubt as to the outcome.”
“Nor do I,” Hudson said, “which means these two women are the only loose ends. I want those ends tied up and tied up this morning. Permanently. Screw the
sperm studies. Got that?”
Verschuer was nervous and his eyes blinked rapidly. He didn’t like being ordered about by this arrogant American but what could he do? The German Army had turned him down flat when he requested funds for his twins study. Had Harry Laughlin not gone to Wesley Waterman who in turn led them to the U.S. Army’s MID which organized the nonprofit funding, well, perhaps there would be no Gemini Project.
“Let’s face it, Otmar,” Waterman said. “You are the one who directed this operation in America. We were successful in locating twenty subjects yet you couldn’t even kill one female journalist. And in Germany, you couldn’t even keep the clinic’s location from her or my wife.”
Verscheur stiffened at the criticism. But his dear wife—may she rest in peace—had never made a cuckold of him like Waterman’s wife had done with Sturm. But he said nothing.
Hudson paused and blew a perfect smoke ring. “Nothing is more important to the future of America than weeding out the mongrels and misfits who have swarmed into our country since the turn of the century. Thank God we locked the door with immigration reform in 1924. Now, we must make sure that we outbreed all the inferior scum—wops, micks, polacks, slavs and kikes. America must again look like America. Like our Army officer corps has always looked. We’re the only ones willing to stand up to the godless Bolsheviks and the Christ-killing Jews.”
“Please, Major Hudson, do not be concerned. Our facilities here at the I.C.E. building equal those at the clinic. While their capacities differ, the equipment is identical. This has been only a momentary setback. Our autopsy protocols will continue here uninterrupted.”
“What about the bodies?” Hudson asked. “You couldn’t even keep ten bodies from being discovered in the United States. How will you do it in Germany?”
Verschuer smiled. How naïve and unimaginative these Americans were. “Quite simple, actually,” Verschuer replied. “As Herr Waterman knows, there is a furnace in the sub-basement. Made in America. A regular crematorium. After the autopsy protocols are concluded and their blood and eyeballs preserved, all our subjects will be reduced to ashes and scattered to the wind as human smoke.”
Hudson stood up and retrieved from the floor beside him a long, narrow canvas bag which he slung by a strap over his shoulder and walked to the window, where he looked out over Regensburg to the Danube River in the near distance, glitering in the early dawn.
“Heed my words, Otmar. MID helped arrange financing for the Gemini Project and supplied American twins for you to study because we are patriots. Wesley agrees with me that all Americans owe a higher duty to their country than to themselves. But the twenty two Americans we provided for the project must not have died in vain. We need your research. We are involved in a long twilight struggle against the Jews and the Bolsheviks, and it will not end with this generation.”
“Have no fear,” Verschuer said. “MID will have my research. I guarantee it.”
Hudson said nothing and turned back from the window as the light from the rising sun began to fill the window and highlight the American’s blond hair as if there were a halo behind him. Verschuer was frightened by that proud and handsome face. The Americans were vital, even critical, to his science. At least until Germany had a new government.
“We know our jobs,” Verschuer continued. “Once our research is concluded, the twins and the other two women will all be reduced to ashes. What could be better than that?”
“The red-haired journalist and the blonde Manhattan society broad dead now, not tomorrow. Like that loose-lipped secretary in New York whose tongue I cut out before I slit her throat. With Cockran and the other two men dead, those women are the only witnesses who have seen everything. Don’t wait for Mengele. Kill them now. If you don’t have the stomach for it, I do. But that would make me unhappy.” he said to Verschuer, staring coldly into the man’s eyes. “Trust me. You don’t ever want to make me unhappy.”
Hudson turned back toward the window, looked at his reflection in the glass and ran his fingers through his blond hair. Then he reached inside his breast pocket and pulled out a pair of gold-rimmed aviator sunglasses, put them on and left the room without saying another word. Verschuer suppressed a shiver. He couldn’t stand the American officer’s arrogance but he sensed the man meant every word he said. He didn’t want to think about the consequences of displeasing that cold-hearted killer.
“I suggest you take Major Hudson’s advice to heart, Otmar,” Waterman said. “No need to keep my wife alive any longer on my account.”
“As you wish, Herr Waterman.”
Waterman took a pocket watch from his vest and looked at it. “Wait until Max has finished fucking her and then kill the faithless bitch. Mind you, don’t cause her unnecessary pain. Use the same stuff you did at the Clinic. What’s its name?”
“Evipol as a sedative injected in the arm. Then chloroform directly into the heart.”
“Yeah, right. Use those.” Waterman said as he pulled on his gray herringbone Chesterfield coat topped by a velvet collar. “Send me a copy of all the twins’ autopsy protocols as soon as they’re ready. Don’t bother with one for my wife. Just make her into smoke.”
84.
They’re All Dead
I.C.E. Building
Regensburg, Germany
Friday, 3 June 1932
COCKRAN glanced at his wristwatch as the freight elevator lumbered slowly up to the fourth floor. The elevator lurched to a halt, and Cockran, Schmeisser slung over his shoulder in a ready-to-fire position with his finger on the trigger, reached with his left hand and pulled the protective scissored gate open and, after that, the heavy elevator door itself.
Cockran’s eyes went wide as he stared into the equally startled face of Ted Hudson, a long canvas bag slung over his back alongside a Schmeisser which was not ready to fire.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Cockran asked.
“The SS captured us in the forest and brought us here. I just escaped.”
Cockran kept his Schmeisser trained on Hudson as he watched the man move into the elevator and place the canvas bag down on the elevator floor.
“What about them? Mattie, Ingrid, the twins?”
Hudson shook his head. “I’m sorry Cockran. They’re dead. They’re all dead. There were just too many of those SS bastards. I’m lucky I got out alive.”
Hudson turned to pull the elevator door closed but Cockran stayed his hand. Something in his voice told him the man was lying. “Follow me, Ted. We’re going back up. The odds have changed. Sturm and three others will hit the SS in,” Cockran paused and looked at his wrist watch. “Four minutes and fifteen seconds.”
“No way, Cockran. Keep out of it. I told you they’re all dead. Besides, while I was up there, I learned that what Verschuer is doing here and at the clinic is a matter of national security. American national security. You and that ball-busting bitch of a girlfriend have caused America enough problems. Quit now while you’re still ahead. And alive.”
“Fuck you, Hudson!” Cockran said as he shoved past Hudson and out of the elevator. He felt Hudson’s hand grab his shoulder and he spun to knock it away just in time to see the flash of a knife blade as it thrust forward, aimed at his kidneys. He slashed his arm down, deflecting the blow and knocking the knife from Hudson’s hand. Unable to use the Schmeisser, he leaped at Hudson and with a flying tackle took him back into the elevator.
Locked together, they rolled from the elevator and out into the hallway. Cockran was taller but Hudson outweighed Cockran by a good twenty pounds and it was all muscle. Fists flew as each grappled for control. Cockran pounded Hudson beneath his ribcage but the blows did not have enough force at such close quarters. He forced Hudson back against the hallway wall when he heard excited shouts and voices from down the hallway. He looked to his left and Hudson took advantage, delivering a clean blow to Cockran’s jaw. Dazed, Cockran toppled over. Hudson disengaged and crawled into the elevator. Prone on the elevator floor, he propped himself on
one arm as he slowly reached up to close the elevator’s scissored gate. The fight had taken as much out of him as it had Cockran.
Groggy from the solid blow to his jaw, Cockran leaned against the wall and helplessly watched Hudson’s face behind the scissored gate as the elevator door slowly began to close.
“Hey, Cockran!” he gasped, his breathing ragged. “About your girlfriend? Just so you know. Our last trip together? I did stuff that horny broad six ways to Sunday. The same way I did in Paris. Ask her. She took it anywhere I put it quicker than a high class hooker.” Hudson shouted, his voice rasping through a small space as Cockran watched the elevator door close.
Cockran’s eyes narrowed. Fuck you, Ted. His lies meant nothing. What was more important was that he had just admitted Mattie was alive. But if she were harmed in any way, Hudson was a dead man. There was nowhere he could hide. That was a promise.
By now, four men in shirtsleeves and ties had arrived and were standing around him, all talking at once. In German. He had no idea what they were saying but they weren’t armed. Cockran pulled the Webley from its holster, pointed it at the Germans and shouted, “SS! SS!” They backed off and he inserted the key into the door to the fifth floor. He opened it and raced up the stairs, glancing at his watch as he did so. Damn! He was forty five seconds late.
Cockran inched the door open at the top of the steps and moved into the corridor.
“Halt!”
Cockran was startled. He turned to see two SS submachine pistols aimed directly at him.
“Der handwuffe!” the taller of the two men, the blond-haired one, shouted.
Cockran slowly knelt down and laid the Webley carefully on the floor. While the blond kept his weapon pointed at him, his dark-haired companion came up to Cockran, patted him down and removed the .45 automatic tucked in the back of his waistband. His commando knife on his left calf was not touched.
The Gemini Agenda Page 41