by Bobby Akart
Cam raced out of the study and into the grand hall. She began looking around at the walkways and stairwells. She studied the furnishings.
“Maybe I’m wrong?” she asked.
Gunner joined her. “We can’t leave empty-handed if this place is gonna blow. You take that stairwell into the north tower, and I’ll look below the castle.”
Cam started toward the rotund tower that curved in to the Great Hall. Then she suddenly stopped and turned.
“No. Gruber said at your feet,” she said. Then she repeated his words. “In this room and at your feet. Gunner, he was directing us into the lower levels of the castle.”
“Come on!” shouted Gunner as he led the way to the same winding stairs they’d used to enter the main level. Cam ran through the sofa seating in front of the fireplace and hurdled over the dead body on the area rug. Seconds later, the two operatives were rushing down the steps as the circular staircase wound its way lower and lower into the castle.
Suddenly, a cavern larger than Gunner could imagine opened up at the bottom. It was cold and dimly lit. It was wider than the base of the castle by at least double. As the duo wandered into the enormous space, Cam pointed out the stalactites that dropped from the ceiling on the outer edges of the room. Castle Bariloche was built on top of a massive cave.
Most of the floor was smooth, matte stone although the outer edges were natural rock that had been chiseled flat and then swept clean. The room was divided by half-walls and cubicles. Even though it contained overhead lighting in the form of small gas lanterns suspended from the ceiling, the room appeared to have been vacated by any Odessa personnel.
A rush of air swept over them, instantly causing them to raise their weapons, as they presumed a door had been opened. The two operatives ran deeper into the cavern in search of another opening. They didn’t find the source of the air, but they did locate something else.
“Jeez, Cam. Those are the sarin canisters.”
“I gotta film this.” Cam retrieved her cell phone and began filming, narrating as she walked through the rows of shiny canisters.
Gunner continued to inspect the space. He marveled at the weapons cache located beneath the castle. He then found the source of the cool air that had swept over them earlier. A dark tunnel led away from the space. He found a pair of steel doors with small air vents built into the top of them. An internal lock could only be released with a retina scan.
He caught up to Cam, who had just finished recording. Then something caught Gunner’s eye. It was a single red blinking light near the shelves full of ammunition. He raised his rifle and zigzagged through the crates of weapons, which included rocket-propelled grenade launchers.
He pushed through several boxes of bullets placed in front of the device. The timer was blinking rapidly as it approached its end.
5:00 a.m.
Four minutes.
And then it would detonate the explosives wired to it.
Gunner retrieved his phone and fired up the flashlight app. He studied the wiring and traced them in both directions to C-4, a plastic explosive used by the military. More wires rose through the ceiling via gray conduit. Gunner was about to dismantle the device when Cam called out for him.
“Gunner! I’ve got a bomb over here! It’s on a timer counting down to five.”
“I have one, too!” he shouted back. “We’ve gotta go. It may have a backup trip wire.”
Cam didn’t hesitate as she turned and ran for the stairwell. The timer had just passed the four-minute mark. Gunner ran and tried to reach Bear on the comms as he started up the steps. They were too far underground to make contact.
“Come on!” Cam shouted, who had a healthy head start on Gunner.
“Get outside! Call Bear!”
By the time Gunner reached the Great Hall, Cam had located the front door and exited the castle. He turned toward Henry’s study and rushed through the doorway. He pulled his knife from his sheath, cut off the man’s bony thumb, and shoved it into his pocket.
“DNA,” he mumbled as he ran into the Great Hall and raced toward the foyer of the castle. Just as he reached the twelve-foot-tall carved wood doors, an enormous explosion shook the ground beneath his feet, sending him into the air and onto the concrete entry steps. Gunner tried to recover, but several additional explosions rumbled beneath him.
The ground lurched upward and then began to drop downward. The groan of the castle’s foundation giving way sounded like the side of a mountain falling down.
“Gunner!” Cam’s voice could barely be heard through the rumble of the castle’s collapse and another series of explosions, smaller but devastating nonetheless. The castle wall broke apart, separating from the north tower, the sanctuary designed to pay homage to Heinrich Himmler and that acted as the meeting room of the twelve heads of Odessa—die Zwölf.
The deafening roar of the castle’s collapse confused a stunned Gunner. He fought to regain his orientation. Suddenly, two powerful arms lifted Gunner off the ground. Bear wasn’t gentle as he pulled his partner away from the collapsing building that had imploded and was now sliding down the ridge into the lake. The ground shook as if an earthquake or volcanic eruption had triggered a massive landslide.
Gunner made it to his feet, and the two men ran to Cam, who stood near the car a hundred yards away. By the time they arrived by her side, Castle Bariloche, for the most part, had either been reduced to rubble or had fallen a thousand feet or more into the water. The only part of the castle left standing was the north tower although it was perilously close to the edge.
“We need to contact the Den and have them warn the town,” said Gunner after he got over the shock of being so close to the initial blast. “The sarin might spread downwind, but it will certainly affect their water supply.”
“I’ll do it,” said Cam, who immediately dialed the number.
Bear patted Gunner on the back. “We got ’em.”
“This time, maybe. Somebody got away in that chopper.”
“I heard it lift off. I was in the middle of a kill when it happened.”
Gunner turned to look at the north tower, which appeared to have survived the destruction. Not knowing what was inside the tower built as an exact replica of Himmler’s, he wouldn’t know the symbolic victory it would have on the remaining members of Odessa. However, something inside Gunner told him this was only one more battle in an upcoming war with the Nazi idealogues.
He took a deep breath and viewed the carnage. He shared his thoughts with Bear. “They’re well funded. Organized. And they continue to follow a dead leader who built a nation on hate. I don’t think this is over.”
Part IV
“The only thing predictable about life is its unpredictability.”
Chapter Forty-One
The Den
Fort Belvoir, Virginia
Gunner and the Gray Fox team returned stateside via the same Gulfstream jet that had delivered them to Argentina from Munich. They all slept hard on the flight and were somewhat rested by the time the plane touched down in nearby Arlington. A chopper was awaiting their arrival to immediately ferry them to their homes for a night of showers and some downtime. The next morning, they were to report to the Den at oh-nine-hundred for a debriefing.
As they arrived the next morning, the debriefing was placed on hold, as the Den was once again abuzz with activity. In the early morning hours, President Taylor had raised the threat level for New York City to critical. Working with the governor of New York, the president ordered mandatory curfews, nonessential business closures, and public transportation to be shut down. The mayor of New York ordered some parts of the city, namely the Wall Street financial district and the hotels in Midtown, to be evacuated.
Gunner was the first to arrive that morning and was immediately whisked into Ghost’s office, where the two had a frank discussion behind closed doors.
“This is much bigger than we initially thought,” he began with a dour expression on his face. He took a sip of h
is coffee and set it down. Ghost rubbed his temples, which drew Gunner’s attention to the stress his former mentor was undergoing. “I’ve assigned Jackal to undertake certain aspects of this investigation. Although I trust our team implicitly, some of the evidence we’ve uncovered boggles the mind.”
Gunner tore open the Velcro flap of his cargo pants and retrieved a Ziploc baggie with Henry Gruber’s thumb in it. He gently set it on Ghost’s desk.
“Here’s some more evidence for ya. You know what they say. Thumbs up, big guy.”
Gunner rarely joked with Ghost during a tense moment, but he felt this was a time his boss needed a laugh. It worked, and the change in the color of Ghost’s face and his overall demeanor revealed why the two men shared an excellent personal relationship.
“Gee, thanks,” said Ghost with a chuckle. He reached for the bag and held it up to examine all sides of the severed thumb. “Mr. Gruber, I presume?”
“Unless the old man who bit down on the cyanide was lying,” replied Gunner. “I wouldn’t put anything past these people. The more we talked about it on the ride back, it was obvious he was stalling us in the final moments of his life so we’d blow up with the rest of his damn castle.”
“I’ll have the team analyze it against all known DNA databases. This was quick thinking on your part.”
Gunner leaned back in the chair, and his eyes grew wide as he exhaled. “Well, if I had been any less quick, you’d be looking for my body parts floating in the lake.”
Ghost got back to what was troubling him. “As you’ve heard, Homeland Security, based on supposedly credible sources, has elevated the threat level for New York City to the highest level since 9/11.”
“What are they expecting?”
“That’s the thing. They don’t have specifics. They’re focused on everything from the contamination of the regional water supply to multiple targets for the release of sarin gas throughout the city. The president, governor, and mayor are working together to shut everything down.”
“Okay.” Gunner stretched out the word as if he was skeptical of the decision. “Until when?”
“That’s the thing. It’s indefinite. Are they shutting down until Odessa strikes? Or are they going to shut down until, say, a week from Tuesday? Or until somebody gives the all clear?”
Gunner shook his head. “That’s a lot of questions. Terrorists tried to take down the World Trade Center in ’93. They waited eight years to try again.”
“And during those eight years, America became complacent and let its guard down. The administration is pulling resources from around the country. It’s a decision that’s logical but leaves other targets highly vulnerable to attack. At least now we know who and what we’re dealing with.”
Gunner wasn’t so sure. “Do we? Okay, we’ve proven Odessa is real. Ghost, you should’ve seen that place. There was Nazi shit everywhere. I mean, huge, three-story banners with swastikas, bronze busts of Hitler, Himmler, Goebbels, and some I couldn’t identify. It was like a shrine to the Third Reich.”
Ghost furrowed his brow and became pensive. “Jackal has provided me a lot to think about. There were strong ties between Nazi Germany and America dating back to the war. Operation Paperclip infused thousands of scientists, all of whom were once Nazi sympathizers, into our universities and government. At the time, the biggest names in our financial markets, like Rockefeller and Kennedy, supported the rise of the Third Reich. International banks are knee deep in their stolen money and gold. Hell, they still are.”
“Obviously, they never stopped fighting the war while America and the rest of the world rebuilt Germany for them,” added Gunner.
“Gunner, I want your gut feeling on all of this. Do you think Odessa is out for revenge on behalf of the failed Reich? Or is it something bigger like taking over the Motherland or some such?”
Gunner sighed and responded, “I don’t know, Ghost. I’m a patriot not a politician. I do have a gut feeling about this guy Gruber. He was almost like a man without a country. He, or his family, created this castle like all the others you can visit in Germany. Only, their choice of décor was vintage Nazi.
“The evidence we’ve uncovered and the historical information provided by Professors Bale and von Zwick confirm our belief that Odessa was formed to continue the Reich. As I said earlier, terrorist organizations, whether al-Qaeda or Odessa, are very patient. They’re idealogues.
“Sure, there’s an element of revenge, I guess. But these guys seem different. They’re calculating. I haven’t seen Jackal’s research into Knight Gruppe, but I can only imagine they’ve got a lot of fingers in every pie around the world.
“These recent attacks all came to fruition after they beat us to the sarin in that submarine. It’s as if they’ve been waiting for a weapon that leveled the playing field. Revenge is part of it, but I believe destabilization of governments and society is their broader goal. When America and the West is in turmoil, they’re weak and also vulnerable. It opens the door for despots and tyrants like Nazis.”
Ghost mindlessly examined Gruber’s thumb. “Your analysis makes New York the logical target. When most people talk about 9/11, they don’t mention the Pentagon or that field in Pennsylvania. The conversation always centers around the World Trade Centers and New York City.”
“Okay, let me play devil’s advocate for a minute,” countered Gunner. “Why attack Levi’s Stadium in Santa Clara? There was an NFL game scheduled in New York. MetLife Stadium is adjacent to the Hackensack River. They could’ve delivered the sarin in the same manner and struck their primary target.
“Also, consider the cyberattack on Detroit’s power grid. Why Detroit? Con Ed has been hacked before, and it sent the city into a tailspin. Nobody outside of Michigan cared.”
“Misdirection?” asked Ghost.
Gunner shrugged. “Maybe? Or is this a different kind of attack? It’s not designed for worldwide headlines like New York City generates. It’s aimed at hitting all parts of America. Spreading the love, in a morbid sense.”
Ghost stood and began to pace the floor. He opened his door and bellowed for Jackal to join them. Cam and Bear had arrived also. He summoned them all into his office.
The three filed in and immediately sensed the tension. None of them spoke.
Jackal had her laptop tucked under her arm and awaited Ghost’s directive.
“Take a seat, everyone,” said Ghost. He turned to Jackal. “Earlier, I asked you to search Knight Gruppe’s corporate holdings for ownership in any shipping companies. What did you find?”
She promptly opened her laptop and began to type on her keyboard. “Nothing owned directly by Knight, but I did find a connection. Based on the team’s discovery of Henry Gruber, I began cross-referencing the name Gruber to all known transportation companies. I got a hit.
“Henry Gruber Jr., son of the man the team identified at the castle, is the president of ASTARSA, a shipyard in Mar del Plata, a small city two hundred fifty miles south of Buenos Aires. ASTARSA is owned by a subsidiary of Knight Gruppe. A week ago, a container ship made its way north. After a one-day stop in Natal, Brazil, it continued on to the Port of New Jersey.”
“What was its cargo?” asked Ghost.
“Varied and sundry,” she replied. “Food products like soybean, corn, and wheat. Also, the new Mercedes X-Class pickups and related parts. However, we just dug a little deeper into the ship’s manifest. There was medical equipment manufactured by Airgas Healthcare. They manufacture everything from medical gas canisters to the cylinder valves that hospitals connect their hoses to. They also make ventilators liked they used during the pandemic years ago.”
“There ya go!” shouted Gunner.
“That’s it,” added Cam.
“Okay, okay, people. Hold on.” Ghost tamped down the enthusiasm. “What’s the status of this shipment?”
“It arrived at the Port of New Jersey two days ago.”
Ghost clapped his hands. “Get on it, Jackal. Now! Everyone needs to identi
fy and track those containers.”
Jackal scurried out of the office. She closed the door behind her, but her voice could be heard barking out orders.
Gunner stood and wandered behind the desk. He gestured toward Ghost’s computer. “May I?”
“Go ahead. What are you thinking?”
“I said these people are only partly ideological, and their overall purpose may be to breathe new life into the Third Reich. That said, there were less than two hundred canisters left in the castle. Their next attack may be very large. Why wouldn’t they try to make a huge impact on the American way of life while taking out the very people they sought to exterminate during the thirties and forties?”
“Jews,” replied Ghost. “All the more reason they’d target New York.”
“Maybe,” mumbled Gunner, who opened Google and searched for the largest Jewish-populated areas in the U.S. “Okay, let’s see what we have here.”
Everyone huddled around Gunner as he scrolled through the results. He found a website with a chart including ranking, area, population and percentage.
“New York, two million,” said Ghost.
“LA is second with six hundred thousand,” added Cam.
Gunner scowled and shook his head side to side. “Yeah, but that’s on the West Coast. I don’t think they’d deliver the sarin to New Jersey when they could cut through the Panama Canal and save a lot of time. Take a look at number three on the list. South Florida. From Miami to West Palm Beach. Well over half a million. They also have the second largest by percentage of the total population, almost equal to New York.”
Ghost patted Gunner on the shoulder and paced through his office again. “It’s a possibility. We need Jackal to confirm where the contents of that container went; otherwise, we’d be chasing the proverbial wild goose.”
Gunner stood. As he made eye contact with Cam and Bear, he made a suggestion. “The feds are pouring everything into New York. The three of us aren’t gonna make a difference. Let us stage in South Florida and wait for the results of Jackal’s research. If something breaks in New York, we can always come back. But, if my hunch is right, we may be too late, especially if we’re sitting here waiting to react.”