Alpha Threat

by Ron Smoak

  “Ah, bull,” said Hugo, “No way.”

  “I swear that was what he said,” Sherrie retorted. “I couldn’t believe it either.”

  “Good morning, everyone. How’s the beach today?” Dane asked, trying to get their minds back on work.

  “Morning!” said Sherrie in her best bubbly voice.

  “Hey, boss,” a typical reply from Hugo.

  “How are things going out there?”

  Sherrie responded, “Beautiful. No problems at any towers. The crowds seem to be thinning. I guess the weekend is finally over for the hard chargers. The folks out there seem to be handling themselves well, although it is still early in the morning for most of them. What’s up on the home front?”

  “Not much. Wayne is trying to sell me on the gold market,” answered Dane. “Other than that all’s quiet.”

  “Gold again, Wayne?” asked Hugo. “Watch out, Dane. He was trying to sell me on it the other day.”

  “Speaking of gold, did you hear about that guy getting killed last night? It’s all over the news this morning,” added Sherrie. “That’s all we heard on the radio while we were checking out the beaches. Someone cut the poor guy’s head off.”

  “Cut his head off?” asked Dane. “Good God! How did that happen?”

  Hugo chimed in, “Evidently he was walking somewhere downtown and someone jumped him, took his briefcase and valuables and literally cut off his head right there on the spot.“

  “Holy crap, who did he piss off?” asked Wayne, walking over to hear more. “It must have been some drug cartel. Now, those guys can get real brutal. I’ll bet we will find out that this dude was buying drugs with gold and someone decided to do somebody wrong.”

  “I don’t know, but I don’t want to run into ‘em,” said Hugo. “They sound like bad folks. It had to be some sort of drug type thing if I had to guess.”

  “One would think that but this guy was a gold dealer here in Miami. Those folks usually don’t get tied up with the drug guys,” said Sherrie, fixing a cup of coffee. “Anybody want some coffee, Dane?”

  “No, thanks. I have some here.”

  Wayne stepped up. “Who was this headless guy? Did the news reports have a name?”

  “Nader, I think, was his name. He had something to do with International Investments,” answered Sherrie, taking her first sip of coffee. “Mmmm, the coffee is good this morning.”

  Wayne stopped dead in his tracks. “My God, did you say Nader?” Wayne burst out. “Klaus Nader?”

  “Yeah, I guess so. I didn’t catch the guy’s first name. What gives?” asked Hugo.

  “Klaus Nader is Wayne’s friend’s father,” Dane said standing. “Is this the same guy you told me about a few minutes ago, Wayne?”

  Wayne leaned against a desk looking stunned. “Klaus Nader. Yeah, that is him. He’s my friend Nathan’s father. I didn’t know Mr. Nader very well, but he handled some gold transactions of mine.”

  “Damn. Sorry, Wayne,” said Sherrie walking over to him. “I’m very sorry.”

  “No, that’s okay. Like I said, I didn’t know him very well at all. I had only met him once in person. He was a very nice guy. I need to call Nathan and find out what happened.”

  Wayne walked over to his locker and dug through the mess to get his cell phone to make the call. Meanwhile the rest of the group returned to their normal duties. Dane walked out on the balcony. Dane loved the beach, especially Miami Beach. The sun was as bright as always and the sea breeze warm. There was always something going on. Between the topless little old ladies and the gorgeous tanned college girls, life was fine here. He watched a young couple strolling down the beach, a family of four playing at the edge of the surf and two middle-aged guys standing knee deep in the water, beers in hand talking about something. It must have been a bathroom break. Dane smiled.

  His attention went from the beach to offshore. He could see several cargo ships about four miles out passing the Miami area. Dane always wondered where they were going. He also loved watching the myriad of cruise ships as they left port. It was a weekend thing since most cruise lines sailed from the Port of Miami on Saturday and Sunday evenings. The ships were filled with all of the happy folks ready for their time at sea. Since it was Wednesday the cruise ships were not due back in until early Saturday morning. There was always something going on at the beach in Miami.

  After a few minutes Wayne stepped out and stood beside him.

  “Find out anything?” Dane asked.

  “Yeah, probably too much,” Wayne said softly. “Evidently Mr. Nader was not the sweet man I thought.”

  “Well, none of us are that. What happened?”

  “Nathan was down at the police station. The Feds have been called in. Nader was carrying millions of dollars worth of gold stocks. The FBI and Homeland Security have been crawling all over his books and have questioned Nathan. He’s been down there since late last night. They believe he may have something to do with his father’s dealings.”

  “Sounds like there was more behind this than just a robbery then, especially with Homeland Security being involved,” said Dane.

  “Mr. Nader, from what they have been able to piece together so far, is up to his armpits with some pretty bad folks funneling gold all over the world. It certainly looks like this guy was a real live smuggler. Can you believe it?”

  “I’ve seen worse,” said Dane, not wanting to say I told you so. Wayne’s story about a friend of a friend and gold investments did not sound too kosher from the start. But Wayne was so intent to invest. Dane didn’t feel it was his place to tell him what to do.

  “Anyway, Nader was killed by professionals, according to the FBI and Miami Police. Nathan says they are asking him about his knowledge of his father’s network in Miami and around the world. Mr. Nader’s company, Investments International Group, was raided this morning. Nathan said they got a load of evidence on the whole operation but haven’t arrested anyone yet. Anyway, Nathan is in shock and scared to death.”

  Dane looked out over the water again. Then he turned to Wayne. “You think he had something to do with his father’s dealings?” asked Dane. “You think they will want to talk to you? You know we would have to report that downtown. That may cause you some problems.”

  Wayne jerked his head around toward Dane. “Hell, Dane, I don’t know anything. All I did was invest a few thousand in gold. I didn’t do anything wrong. I swear!”

  “Calm down, Wayne. I’m sure you didn’t, but I would have to report it. I doubt anything would come of it but we have to be completely open about this; especially with the FBI and other Feds involved.”

  “Yeah, I know,” a slightly calmer Wayne answered. “Boy, did I step in it this time.”

  “Nader’s gold network must be pretty big if the FBI and Homeland Security are looking into it. Homeland Security usually only gets involved with national security issues,” explained Dane. “Look at it this way, Wayne. You did nothing wrong. If the authorities want to talk to you, so be it. Tell the truth and everything will work itself out. Remember, we are all behind you,” reassured Dane.

  “Thanks, Dane. I didn’t want to keep anything from you.”

  The door to the office cracked open. It was Hugo. “We have an emergency call from South Point Park. Sounds like some dumbass cracked his head on the jetty rocks. I dispatched the EMS and I’m running down there. Want to go, Boss?”

  “Yeah, sure. Meet me at the truck.” Dane turned to Wayne and gave him a pat on the back. “Don’t worry. Talk to you later.”

  “Thanks,” smiled Wayne grimly. He knew from what he heard from Nathan this was bigger than merely a street murder. Nathan’s father was in with some very nasty folks and there must have been millions involved. It was not the first nor last time someone died over gold. Wayne watched the patrol truck leave, turned and walked back into the office.

  “You all right?” asked Sherrie, clearly seeing that Wayne was upset.

  “I guess so. I just can’t believe it. I
’ve never been this close to a real murder. It’s weird,” explained Wayne. He sat down at his desk and put his head in his hands. Sherrie walked over and tried to console him.

  “I know it’s a shocker but you’ll get over it. Hey, want to go with my cousin Stacy and her fiancé, Bill, and I to dinner tonight? We’re doing sushi at that place you like.”

  “I don’t know. I probably wouldn’t be good company,” Wayne lamented. “I probably should go see Nathan.”

  “Come on with us. It will take your mind off of all this. It sounds like Nathan has his hands full right now anyway. It might make more sense to stay out of there while the cops are still looking into all of this.”

  Wayne looked up and smiled at Sherrie. One couldn’t look at Sherrie and not feel better. She was one of those people that exuded nice. Besides, sushi was one of his favorites.

  “Okay. You win. It’s hard to stay worried with you around,” he said, shaking his head with a weak smile.

  “Great! Meet us at Sushi Siam at seven.” Sherrie tapped her hand on Wayne’s desk and said, “Oh, bring some cash. I may be running a bit short.”

  Wayne burst into laughter. “Now I know why you asked me!”

  Sherrie shot out of the door onto the balcony. She did her job. She cheered Wayne up and got his thoughts away from the Nader situation.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Wednesday, July 6, 2011

  In Captivity Somewhere in the Amazon; 8:00 a.m.

  It was three days since their capture. Dana, Randall and Manolo were separated and each thrown into a dank, dark cell that smelled of mold and human waste. The only light was from a tiny air vent about eight feet above the gray steel door set deep into heavy stone. The light was consistent so Randall figured it was not illuminated from outdoors. The light had to be coming from a hall or other room outside the cell.

  Each of their cells was identical. There was a large five-gallon bucket of nasty smelling drinking water with a small metal cup. Twice a day a packet of food was thrust through an eight-by-eight inch hatch in the wall near the door. The toilet was two twelve-inch long by ten-inch tall stone protrusions on the floor on opposite sides of a dark, foul smelling four-inch hole in the floor against the wall. This was not a nice place by anyone’s imagination. The bed consisted of a small amount of hay thrown in the far corner of the eight-by-six foot cell and a very dirty, rough canvas blanket. To any normal person this was Hell.

  When they took off his hood, Randall was thrust into his cell without any communication as to where or why. No one visited or talked to him during the three days that passed. He spent time yelling trying to get someone to answer but to no avail. He seemed to be in this hellhole by himself. He had no word of Dana or Manolo. They could be dead for all he knew. All he could hear was heavy footsteps several times a day. When he tried to communicate, there was no reply.

  Randall had no idea what time it was or what day for that matter. All he could see in the cell was the four stone walls and the poured concrete floor and ceiling. He knew this was a man-made cell and not a cave. The concrete floor was the giveaway. The walls were made of various shaped large stones instead of the most common material, brick. The musty smell permeated the cell because of seeping moisture. But the walls were dry. Randall figured they were underground, quite possibly deep underground.

  The only wet areas were near the water bucket and toilet, which had an awful stench. There must be more cells or rooms because he could tell that the latrine system dumped into a sewer system several feet below the opening in the floor. When he relieved himself, he could hear his stream going down and hitting a shallow body of water. A toilet for one cell would not have been built so intricately. He also noticed that periodically there was a distinct sewage flow from other cells or areas. How many, he could not guess. But he knew there must be other cells down here.

  Dana and Manolo must be somewhere nearby although he could not hear or contact them. To calm himself he had to believe they were still alive. He wondered to himself… Who put him here? What did they want? Why weren’t they killed like the others? Hundreds of questions blazed through his mind as he sat there…alone.

  In another cell on the other side of the jail complex Dana was sobbing deeply. She’d hardly stopped crying since they threw her in the cell. She too was left alone in near darkness, her surroundings similar to Randall’s. She had not seen nor heard from him since they were trekked through the jungle and brought into this place three days ago. Her screams and protestations were unanswered and she was beginning to feel she was the only one alive. She was scared she would die in this hellhole. Thousands of thoughts raced through her mind. What was happening? Are they, whoever they are, going to rape me? Or worse, kill me? Although she tried to think of better times her mind circled back to the present. She wondered how Anne Frank survived her ordeal when she was forced to hide from the Germans in World War II.

  The trio had been force marched for several hours after their capture. The men dressed in black were under orders not to talk to them and under no circumstances take the heavy hoods off of their heads. They went down open trails and slogged through a muddy swamp-like area but were unable to ascertain where or even which direction they had taken.

  After several hours, they were brought to some sort of an opening or cavern and taken several levels below ground. It felt cool to the skin like there was air conditioning. They were taken deep into some sort of complex to separate cells where their handcuffs and hoods were removed. There was no air conditioning here. It was hot and smelled terribly. They were supervised by a pair of huge guards. In Dana’s case the guards had watched a bit more intently. It had been a while since they had seen a woman captive.

  “What are we to do with these intruders?” asked Jorgen Maas, captain of the guards, to the tall, svelte female dressed in a crisp German military uniform.

  “What do we know about them? I need to find out who they are and why they are here,” answered Kaete Grimme.

  “They did not have much on them when we picked them up,” Maas answered stoically. “We did get their gear that was left behind. It looks as though they were on some kind of educational expedition from the United States. They are probably well funded. Their gear looks new and top rate.”

  “How far out did we catch them?” Grimme asked.

  “They found one of our vent markers about two kilometers from entrance 22-A. They did not stumble across anything else. The one thing that bothers me is they had an active GPS and a radio.”

  Grimme’s eyes locked on Maas. She pursed her lips and cursed under her breath. She didn’t like the idea of a GPS unit and radio. “This could cause a major problem,” she hissed. “Somebody out there may know the location of these missing people. I assume you have your guards on alert.”

  “We have doubled the guards and set out several additional monitors throughout the area where they were picked up,” answered Maas. “If anyone comes after them, we will know about it.”

  “Excellent. As you are aware, we cannot suffer a single security breach. We cannot afford to have a search party roaming through the area looking for these people. If we need to, massacre any group that gets close to the compound. Slaughter everyone and make certain it looks like a native attack,” ordered Grimme.

  “I understand. We will be safe and thorough,” answered Maas. “Should we kill this bunch and get rid of them?”

  Grimme narrowed her eyes thinking. “No, not yet. I want more information from them before we kill them.”

  Maas smiled. “I can make them talk, I assure you. “

  “I’m certain you can,” she said matter-of-factly looking at Maas. “But I want to do this my way. It is important they stay separated for the time being,” she said. “I want to build their desperation. They have been isolated in their cells for three days. It is time to add some physical pain increasing their despair. Take two of your men and punish each of them. Without any communication beat them and leave them in pain. I want them hu
rt badly but not in any danger of dying. Do you understand me, Maas? Hurt them but be certain they are profoundly hurt. I want them to be scared out of their wits and ready to talk when the time comes.”

  “Yes, I understand. I will attend to it personally,” Maas answered as he turned to carry out Grimme’s orders. These were orders a sadist such as Maas loved to hear. His mind raced at what he could do to these people. One thing Maas was exceedingly good at was causing physical pain in others.

  Kaete Grimme commanded Fortress Alpha deep in the Amazon jungle. She was the Führer. Her grandfather, Gestapo Agent Karl Grimme, was one of the handpicked operatives Hitler himself chose to establish this operation in the Amazon. She was as chilling and ruthless as her grandfather and father, Hientz Grimme, from whom she took over at his death four years ago. Standing at nearly six feet, thirty-five-year-old Kaete was a strong woman singly bred by her father to make hard and ruthless choices. Her short blonde hair was always perfectly set, always very formal. She let down her guard to no one. The reality was she was more ruthless than any of her predecessors. She was in many ways pure evil. It took a strong will to maintain the future of the Fourth Reich and see their plans of world domination flourish.

  Near the end of the Second World War, Hitler ordered Heinrich Himmler to establish a fortress in South America to house Germany’s most closely guarded secrets. Only a handful of the highest ranking Germans and highly trusted scientists and technicians knew of the operation. Many of the people and soldiers involved were murdered when there was no use for them. It was Hitler’s first step to rebuilding the Third Reich, which was crumbling around him thanks to the encroaching Red army and the Americans who were outside of Berlin. The plan was to move all secrets and those responsible for the secrets to a stronghold in Brazil. This site would become a base for reviving the Reich and provide a safe place for Hitler, Himmler and their inner circle to survive the inevitable downfall of Germany. They had moved tons of gold and other valuables as well as several key scientists who worked on their sinister projects back in the 1940s. Each scientist was given everything they needed to fulfill their experimental needs. For some that included money and specialized equipment. For others it included people, guinea pigs for experimentation. All was furnished by Grimme’s Fortress.